Page 34 of Protective Pucking Orc

“Mama, you got new pajamas!” Rosa held up a pair of flannel pants, her grin wide. “They have little moons on them!”

I swallowed hard, my chest aching. He’d noticed what I wore, what I used, what I⁠—

“He even got you shoes!” Rosa pulled out a pair of snow boots, since I’d been wearing my waitressing shoes that day he’d rescued us.

I pressed a hand to my mouth, my breath coming too fast. How? How had he known all of this? How had he⁠—

“Mama?” Rosa’s small voice cracked, her dark eyes worried. “Are you okay?”

I forced a smile, hurriedly wiping at my eyes. “Oh, yes, honey. I’m just—surprised.”

She beamed. “Dak’s the best, right?”

Yes. He was.

And that was the problem.

I helped her put away her new things, my hands moving on autopilot as my mind raced. He’d done too much, more than I could ever repay. The rent, the clothes, the books. Each evening he gently updated me on his friend’s search for Anthony; when it became clear my ex-husband had left Bramblewood, apparently their efforts had turned to forming a network of alerts in case he returned.

It had been days since my daughter had zoned out in front of videos as I worked too hard, and it was all because of him.

Guilt coiled in my stomach.

I couldn’t give him anything in return. Not really. Not the way he deserved.

I was a waitress with a sprained wrist and a bruised face, a woman running from her past. He was…amazing. A professional athlete, a male who could have anything, anyone he wanted.

And yet he’d chosen to spend his money on us.

I sank onto the couch, watching Rosa chatter to her new dragon, her voice bright and happy in a way I hadn’t heard in…how long?

Dakvaar had given her that.

And me?

He’d given me the first real breath I’d taken in years.

I just didn’t know how to thank him for it.

The front door burst open with a force that made me jump, my heart leaping into my throat. Rosa, who had been sprawled on the floor pretending to read to her dragon, shrieked in delight and scrambled to her feet.

“Dak!”

I turned just in time to see him fill the doorway—broad shoulders heaving, his dark hair damp with sweat, his eyes glowing faintly green as they locked onto us. His chest rose and fell like he’d run the whole way home, and for a wild second, I thought something had happened—that he was bringing word his friends had found Anthony after all.

But then Dakvaar’s shoulders sagged, just slightly, and the tension in his face eased, and I realized he’d been worried for us.

This morning, he’d said that he didn’t want to be apart from us. Dios, his protective streak was strong, wasn’t it?

I found myself smiling, not even caring if it pulled my bruises.

Rosa launched herself at him, and he caught her effortlessly, lifting her into his arms as she chattered a mile a minute.

“Dak! Look what you sent us! My dragon’s name is—” She lowered her voice comically in a passable imitation of Dakvaar’s— “Stormbringer, and I love my sparkly hair ties, and Mama got new pajamas with moons on them, and the books—oh! The books are so good!” She wriggled in his grip, pointing at the dragon still sprawled on the floor. “Bebkar is reading!”

His lips twitched, just barely, but his eyes—those glowing green eyes—never left mine. “Veth’kar,” he corrected softly.

She giggled. “That’s what I said!”