Page 23 of Protective Pucking Orc

Dios, how could I say no?

I was too hurt, too tired to make a decision now. And he was right—I couldn’t run like this, not with my wrist sprained and my face a mess. Not with Rosa depending on me.

You already owe him so much.

But the way he was looking at me—like I was something precious, something worth fighting for—made my resolve crumble.

“Okay,” I whispered.

The word was barely out of my mouth before Dakvaar exhaled, his shoulders relaxing just slightly. His thumb brushed over my knuckles again, slow and soothing.

“Good,” he said, his voice rough. “That’s good.”

Rosa squealed and threw her arms around my neck, nearly knocking me backward. “Yay! It’s going to be so fun, Mama!”

I hugged her tight, my eyes burning but a dangerous little spark warming my chest.

Hope.

Sofia

The drive to Dakvaar’s home was a blur of snowflakes and the hum of the engine. Rosa chattered nonstop from the backseat of his truck—where had he acquired a booster seat for her?—her excitement a bright counterpoint to the dull ache in my bones. I tried to listen, tried to smile, but I kept looking over my shoulder, expecting to see Anthony’s headlights behind us.

No one followed us, just like Dakvaar had promised.

His home was nothing like I expected.

Not that I’d expected much—just that it would be big, maybe messy, the way most single men’s places were. But his house was…perfect. Clean lines, warm wood, huge windows that framed the mountains and the frozen pond in the back. The den—where he settled me on the sofa with a care that made my throat tight—was all dark leather and warm blues, the kind of room that begged you to sink into it with a good book and warm tea. There were framed sketches along one wall—mostly landscapes—and I knew he’d been the artist.

Rosa was already bouncing on her toes, eyes wide as she took it all in. “It’s like a castle!” she declared, spinning in a circle.

Dakvaar—who had just finished tucking a blanket around my shoulders—chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Not quite. But I’ll show you around.”

He led her away, his big hand dwarfing hers, and I listened to their voices fade down the hall. Rosa’s high-pitched questions, his rumbling answers. The way he explained things to her—not talking down, just…patient.

Like she was someone worth his time.

I closed my eyes, pressing my fingers to my temples. The painkillers were wearing off.

You’re bringing danger to him.

The thought coiled in my chest, sharp and insistent. Anthony wouldn’t stop. He’d find us. And when he did, he wouldn’t just hurt me—he’d destroy anyone who stood in his way.

A giggle cut through my spiraling thoughts. I opened my eyes just as Rosa came barreling back into the room, her cheeks flushed. “Mama! Mr. Dakvaar’s bathroom has a tub as big as a pool! And his kitchen has a fridge that makes ice all by itself! And he has books everywhere—he said you can borrow as many as you want! I’m going to sleep on the floor in the book room, like I’m camping!”

Dakvaar followed her in, his expression his usual stone mask, but I caught the way his claws flexed at his sides—like he was holding himself back. “I have one guest bed,” he said, his voice rough. “I thought you might be more comfortable without a squirmy bedmate.”

My chest tightened. He was thinking of me? Of my comfort.

Rosa’s eyes lit up. “I can’t kick Mama if I’m on the floor!”

He looked almost…embarrassed. “The library has plenty of space. Torrk dropped off an air mattress earlier.”

I swallowed hard. “Thank you,” I managed. “You’re right. She’ll love it.”

Rosa threw her arms around my neck, her small body warm against mine, and I couldn’t mind the way she was gripping every one of my bruises. “Goodnight, Mama! Mr. Dakvaar says he’ll tell me a story!”

I pressed a kiss to her forehead, breathing in her scent—soap and crayons and sweet, sticky warmth. “Sleep well, mija.”