Page 4 of Tempted By the Orc

“Careful,” he muttered, his voice softening just a little. “Your ankle’s not healed.”

I glanced down again at the bandages, feeling a knot tighten in my chest. He had taken care of me.An Orc. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

“Thank you,” I whispered, unsure of what else to say. I was grateful—my life had been in his hands, after all—but I also couldn’t shake the wariness that hung over me like a shadow.

Noel grunted, a low sound of acknowledgment, then moved away, disappearing into what I assumed was the kitchen. My eyes followed him, every muscle in my body tense. I didn’t trust him. I couldn’t. Orcs were unpredictable—dangerous. That was what I’d always been told.

But was it any different than the way people looked at me?

The thought tugged at something deep inside me. I was no stranger to being judged for what I was. I remembered the way people had stared when they learned the truth—that I wasn’t human. I was something else. A shifter. A rare creature that didn’t quite fit anywhere.

Kris Kringle—my father—had found me when I was a baby, abandoned in the forest, likely because of my oddity. I was a reindeer shifter, and that kind of magic wasn’t only rare—it was feared. People didn’t understand it, so they pushed it away. But my parents, Kris and Clara Kringle, had taken me in. They’d loved me as their own.

I’d grown up at the North Pole, raised with the magic of Christmas, surrounded by love and joy. I had a gift for navigation, an instinct that was part of who I was, part of my magic. I loved the animals, the children, and the way Christmas brought hope and light into the world. That was why my father had chosen me to lead the reindeer team each year. It was something I looked forward to, something that felt like it was in my blood.

But now, all of that was at risk.

Noel’s footsteps brought me back to the present. He returned with a wooden tray, and the smell of cooked meat and warm bread made my stomach growl loudly. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was.

“You need to eat,” he said, his voice a little softer now. He placed the tray on a small table beside me and sat down across from me, arms folded across his chest, watching.

I hesitated, glancing at the food, then back at him. I couldn’t shake my fear. Just because he hadn’t hurt me yet didn’t mean he wouldn’t. He could still turn me over to the Dark King in hopes of a reward. The thought gnawed at me, but my stomach’s protests grew louder. I had no strength left to refuse. I picked up the spoon and took a small bite of the stew. The rich flavors hit my tongue, warming me from the inside out, and before I knew it, I was devouring it, my hunger taking over.

Noel remained silent as I ate, his dark eyes trained on me, studying me. His presence was overwhelming, filling the space like a physical force, but there was no malice in it. Nothing in his gaze held the cold cruelty I had seen in Azrael Frost’s eyes.

My heart sank just thinking about him.

I had known Azrael since I was a child, back when things had been...different. But then his father had died, and Azrael’s heart had grown bitter, twisted by anger and jealousy. He had blamed my father for his own’s death, even though it had been a tragic accident—one my father had never forgiven himself for. Azrael’s thirst for revenge had poisoned his spirit, turning him into the Dark King who now ruled over the land with an iron fist.

And now, I’d become his pawn in his wicked quest for power.

“If you give her to me in marriage, I’ll free the elves,” Azrael had promised my father, his icy blue eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he sealed the deal.

Father had been desperate. Guilt-ridden. He had agreed, even though he knew what it meant for me. Even though it broke my heart. Santa Claus had promised me to Azrael, and I had run.

I would rather die than be the Dark King’s bride. I couldn’t imagine giving myself to Azrael. I had never…I was a virgin, and the thought of him touching me, of belonging to him in any way, made me sick to my core.

My mother, Clara, had found me as I was sneaking out of our home in the North Pole, bundled in furs, my bag slung over my shoulder in the dead of night. She hadn’t stopped me. She had hugged me tightly, wrapping her warmest woolen scarf around my neck, and let me go, watching silently as I hurried from the cozy warmth of our home and out into the bitter cold. There had been tears in her eyes, but she hadn’t said a word.

That was the last time I had seen her.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, pushing those memories aside as I glanced at Noel. He was watching me again, his eyes dark and thoughtful, though he said nothing.

When I finished the meal, I set the spoon down, feeling physically stronger but emotionally raw. I couldn’t stay here. I couldn’t let the storm trap me, even if my ankle wasn’t healed yet. If I stayed too long, Azrael’s soldiers would find me. It was only a matter of time.

“I need to leave,” I said quietly, my voice trembling. “I can’t stay here.”

Noel’s gaze flicked toward the window, where snow piled high against the glass. The wind howled outside, making the walls of the cabin creak. “You’re not going anywhere,” he said, his voice firm. “Not in this storm. You wouldn’t survive.”

My heart clenched. The storm might be deadly, but what waited for me if I didn’t escape was worse. I had less than two days.

Two days.

I had to be gone by Christmas Eve, I couldn’t let them find me and force me into a marriage I didn’t want. I couldn’t...I couldn’t let that happen.

“I don’t have time,” I whispered, more to myself than to Noel.

He glanced at me, his dark eyes narrowing. “Why?”

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