Page 41 of Agor

Agor

Humans had wronged me, but I didn’t keep coming back to their settlement for revenge like I normally would. As my wounds healed, my temper cooled. Longing led me back here every time. And longing kept me here, near her.

I was supposed to return to the keep early in the morning. But I spent the day in the woods, setting and checking traps. When night came, I tossed a bundle of water rats over my shoulder and headed east, following the path that had become very familiar by now, to the place where Becca lived.

She’d been accepting my mating presents, and it gave me hope. I couldn’t put off seeing her any longer.

I’d given her what she needed and some of what she wanted. Now, I was going to offer her what she might not know she wanted or needed, but what I’d hoped would make her heart full—a lifetime spent with me.

Sneaking around the humans’ settlement, I climbed over their pathetic excuse for a fence right behind Becca’s wagon.

This place wasn’t safe for her. A predator could easily get in or a vagabond orc could sneak in and attack with no difficulty at all. Every minute Becca stayed here, I worried, losing sleep. She had to come to the keep with me where I could keep her safe.

Tiny growls came from behind her door as I climbed the three flimsy steps of the tiny porch in front of her wagon. Thehound pup defended his new home. Good. The pup might be too small for now to kill anything larger than a frog. But he already could warn Becca about any danger. As he grew, with Becca as his master, he’d become a great protector. Except that a dog’s place was on the porch. Why did she have him inside?

The door flew open, and Becca’s sword poked against my neck.

“Fuck.” She dropped the arm with the weapon. “I almost killed you.”

Heat shot through my body at the sight of her.

“Hi Becca,” I drawled, taking in every delectable curve under the thin material of her nightshirt.

She looked magnificent, wielding a weapon while wearing nothing but a nightshirt.

A glow of blush spread on her cheeks as she raked her gaze over me in return. This woman was born to be mine. I just needed to make her see it too.

The dog growled, jumping out between her feet.

“Back, Dumpling,” she commanded. “We won’t kill this one yet.”

Growling in warning, with his head low to the ground, the pup retreated. He knew his name already and obeyed commands from his master. Smart pup, just like his mother.

Wait a minute. What did Becca call him?

“You named the houndDumpling?”I couldn’t believe my ears.

“I didn’t plan it. It just kind of happened. And now, it’s stuck. So...” She waved a hand in a vague gesture. “But what are you doing here? If anyone sees you, they won’t spare your life this time.” She glanced around the settlement with concern.

I leaned with my hand against the door frame.

“Let me in then.”

“Come,” she stepped back, “before you lose your head and, quite possibly, some other body parts too. I don’t want to wash blood off my porch again. I already scrubbed it after your latest kill.” She opened the door wider, letting me in.

I ducked my head so as not to hit my head on the low door frame and turned sideways to fit my shoulders through the door.

Her space looked tiny but neat. The walls were painted with pretty designs that must’ve been bright and cheerful some time ago, but the paint had long dulled and chipped. A tapestry curtain separated the bed in one end of the wagon. In the middle, the metal stove still had embers glowing in it, left from the fire it had held through the day.

It smelled like her in here—invitingly warm, feminine, and fucking arousing.

“Behave, or I’ll sic my dog on you,” she teased.

“This is for him.” I took the bundle of spider rats off my shoulder and thrust them to Becca. “I’ve cleaned them already, so they’ll keep better.”

She paled, staring at my offering of half a dozen dead furry creatures. With each of them having eight legs and three tails, the bundle looked like a pompon of limbs.

“River hounds love these,” I explained. “Best food for the pup.”

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