Page 34 of The Orc Who Saved Christmas

We surge together again, a brutal ballet of fists and axes. Our roars blend with the clash of steel, the sound a primal song that speaks of survival and dominance. I feel the sting of Vorrak'sblade as it grazes my side, a line of fire that only fuels my determination.

I push through the pain, my own weapon finding its mark. Vorrak grunts, staggering back as blood blossoms on his thigh. "Is that all you've got?" I challenge, circling him like the predator I am.

His lips peel back in another snarl. "I'll grind your bones to dust, traitor," he seethes.

We clash again, our axes meeting in a shower of sparks. I can feel the eyes of the Icefangs on us, their breaths held in anticipation. They see Vorrak as their champion, their hope for victory. But they don't know me. They don't know the depths of my resolve, the strength born of loss and redemption.

I drive Vorrak back with a flurry of blows, each one a declaration of my refusal to yield. "You're nothing without your clan," he spits, his voice laced with venom.

My jaw tightens, and I strike with renewed fury. "I am the clan," I roar. "I am its memory, its vengeance."

Our battle rages on, a testament to the warrior code that binds us both. We are evenly matched, our blows landing with brutal precision. Vorrak and I are locked in a dance of death, our weapons clashing with a ferocity that could shake the heavens. Each strike is evidence of our brute strength, each parry a display of our skill. This is the way of our kind—honor won through combat.

But then, a sound pierces the night, a sound that chills my very soul. Screams erupt from the cave, not the battle cries of warriors, but the terror-filled shrieks of the innocent. My heart sinks, and for a split second, my focus wavers.

Vorrak seizes that moment of distraction, barreling toward me with renewed vigor. Pain explodes across my ribs and the metallic taste of blood fills my mouth as Vorrak's fists pummel into me like the relentless hammering of a blacksmith. Eachblow is a brutal reminder of the cost of failure, of the precious lives hanging in the balance.

But it's the thought of Claire, her warm brown eyes filled with trust and hope, that fuels my iron will to push beyond my limits. I stumble, my vision swimming with stars, but I refuse to fall. I’m suddenly overtaken by a desperate need to protect what's mine.

"Claire," I whisper, her name a sacred mantra that strengthens my resolve.

Vorrak laughs, a cruel, mocking sound that grates against my every nerve. "What's the matter, Thrag? Missing your little human pet?" he taunts.

Rage courses through me, hot and wild. No, I love Claire. The realization is as sharp and clear as the glint of Vorrak's axe in the moonlight. Love, a sentiment once foreign to my warrior's heart, now defines it, beats for it. I cannot—will not—let this be the end. Not for her. Not for us.

With a roarthat tears from the depths of my being, I channel all my fear, all my love for Claire, into one final, devastating attack.

I drive my axe into Vorrak's stomach, the blade sinking deep into his flesh. His eyes widen in shock, his laughter dying in his throat as the lifeblood pours from his wound, staining the snow a deep, dark crimson. I twist the axe, pulling it free with a sickening squelch. His lips move, forming silent words, but no sound escapes. With a final, shuddering breath, Vorrak collapses, his body going limp in the snow.

The Icefang orcs watch in stunned silence as their leader falls. I stand over Vorrak's body, my chest heaving, my axe dripping with his blood. I've avenged my clan, I've protected thehumans, and I've proven myself as a warrior and a leader. But as I turn to look at the cave, my victory feels hollow.

Flames lick at the cave's entrance, their fiery tongues consuming the sanctuary we've built. Smoke billows into the night sky, a dark plume that serves as a grim beacon. The screams grow louder, more desperate, and my heart shatters into a thousand pieces.

"Claire..." Her name is a prayer on my lips, a plea to any god who might be listening.

My knees buckle, and I drop to the ground, my body screaming in protest. Pain lances through me, a stark reminder of the toll this battle has taken. I can feel the warmth of my blood seeping into the snow.

I try to rise, to go to her, but my battered body refuses to cooperate. My vision blurs, the faces of the villagers swimming before my eyes. I can hear the Icefangs murmuring among themselves, their voices a low, ominous rumble. They are leaderless now, uncertain of what comes next. But their uncertainty is nothing compared to the fear gnawing at my gut.

35

CLAIRE

The air inside the cave is thick with the acrid stench of smoke, and the glow of the raging fire dances across the faces of the villagers, casting long, twisted shadows on the walls. My heart pounds in my chest as I watch the chaos unfold. The heat of the flames is a cruel mimicry of the warmth we'd hoped to share on this Christmas Eve.

Around me, the villagers are in a state of pandemonium, their shouts echoing off the stone walls of our makeshift sanctuary. The fire spreads rapidly, consuming the few belongings we managed to bring with us. "It was me," a voice cuts through the chaos, heavy with guilt. I turn to see Samuel, a man I've taught and trusted, stepping forward with his head bowed. "I told the Icefang clan where we were. I did it to save my family!"

My heart plummets. Betrayal is a bitter poison, seeping into the cracks of our fragile community. Angry shouts erupt as the villagers close in on Samuel, their faces contorted with rage. "How could you do this?!" they scream, their fists flying. Each word is a punch to the gut, a reminder of the fragility of our existence.

Samuel crumples under the impact of their outrage, his body convulsing with each blow. "You've doomed us all!" they scream.

I should feel something—anger, perhaps, or a sense of profound disappointment—but all I can think about is Thrag. My Thrag, out there facing an enemy that shouldn't have found us, all because of a selfish act of desperation.

"Stop!" I shout, my voice barely audible over the din of the crowd. "We need to help Thrag!"

But my words are lost in the frenzy, their focus solely on the traitor in their midst. I push through the throng of bodies, my gaze fixed on the cave's entrance. I can't just stand here while the man I love fights for our lives.

Outside,he's facing down the Icefang orcs, his life hanging by a thread. I can't bear the thought of losing him, not when we've just found each other in this bleak, unforgiving world. I need to get to him, to stand by his side.

---