Page 6 of Protective Pucking Orc

Kardok, the bastard, didn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed. He just grinned, his tusks glinting in the dim light, and slung an arm around Lila’s shoulders. “Dakvaar,” he rumbled, voice rough with amusement. “You look like you just sucked on a lemon. What’s got you so sour?”

I exhaled through my nose, knowing my expression gave nothing away. It never did; I made certain of it. “Nothing. Just tired.”

Lila tilted her head, studying me with those sharp, knowing eyes of hers. She was human, but she’d been around orcs long enough to recognize when one of us was lying.

“I’ve heard that you’ve been distracted lately,” she observed, stepping out of Kardok’s hold to adjust her coat. “Even more than usual.”

Kardok chuckled, nudging her with his elbow. “He’s been like this for weeks. Missed two easy saves the other day. Coach was ready to bench him.”

I shot him a dark look. “I don’t need a recap.”

“No, but you do need to tell us what’s got you so twisted up.” Kardok’s grin widened. “Unless it’s a someone.”

Lila’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh?”

My jaw clenched. Fuck. I should’ve known better than to engage. Kardok had a nose for weakness, a wicked reputation, and a propensity for mocking males who weren’t as successful with charming human females. And right now, my preoccupation with Sofia was the biggest chink in my armor.

I shifted my weight, the duffel strap biting into my shoulder. “It’s nothing.”

Kardok snorted. “Right. And I’m the next captain of the Teal Terrors.”

Lila rolled her eyes at him before turning back to me, her expression softer. “You know, if you ever want to talk⁠—”

“He doesn’t,” Kardok interrupted, pressing a kiss to her temple. “He’s too busy brooding in silence. That’s what Dakvaar does.”

I ignored him, focusing on Lila instead. She was human, yes, but she’d grown up in this town, had been raised with wealth and privilege. If anyone knew what might make a little girl smile…

“Lila,” I said, cutting off whatever Kardok was about to add. “When you were young, what did you like? As a child.”

She blinked, clearly caught off guard by the abrupt change in subject. “Me? Um…” A small smile played at her lips. “Ponies. Unicorns. Princess dresses. The usual.”

Kardok barked a laugh. “She had a stable of toy horses. Her father nearly built her a real one.”

Lila swatted at him. “I was five.”

I exhaled, rubbing the back of my neck. A pony. Right. Because of course Lila Fairbanks, owner of the Bramblewood Ice Complex, had grown up with ponies.

If Rosa were mine, and she wanted a pony, I would get her one. The Terrors paid me well enough, and a part of me could understand Lila’s father’s attempts to make his precious daughter happy.

But Rosa wasn’t mine. And I wasn’t about to show up at the Sunrise Café with a damn horse.

Kardok’s grin faltered as he studied my face. “Wait. Why are you asking about little girls’ toys?”

I stiffened. “Just curious.”

“Bullshit.” He crossed his arms. “You’re not the ‘just curious’ type. Who’s the kid?”

My fingers twitched against the strap of my bag. I couldn’t explain it—not to him, not to anyone. Not when I barely understood it myself. Not when the thought of Sofia belonging to another male still gnawed at me.

Lila, thankfully, seemed to sense my discomfort. She elbowed Kardok in the ribs. “Stop badgering him.” To me, she said, “If you’re looking for a gift, art supplies are always a safe bet. Crayons, colored pencils, sketchbooks.”

Art supplies.

Something loosened in my chest. I could draw. Not well, not like the artists whose work hung in the galleries downtown, but I’d discovered a knack for it since coming to the human world. Sketching helped quiet my mind when my Kteer got too loud.

“There’s a stationery store on Main Street,” Lila continued, warming to the topic. “The Inkwell—it’s got a great selection. They even have those fancy markers that don’t bleed through the paper.”

Kardok’s eyes narrowed. “You’re actually buying a gift for a kid?”