Page 27 of The Orc Who Saved Christmas

We share the bowl in silence. Each pass of the spoon is a dance, a delicate balance of give and take. When the bowl is finally empty, she looks up at me, her smile radiant.

"Thank you, but you didn't have to do that," she says, her voice soft.

I shrug. "You can't take care of others if you don't take care of yourself," I say with conviction.

She nods, her eyes shining with gratitude and something more, something that makes my chest tighten.

As we sit together, I turn my thoughts to this concept of a gift she mentioned earlier. It's a human tradition, one that seems so foreign to me.

"Why is a gift so important anyways?"I ask, the question tumbling from my lips randomly.

Claire blinks at me, her surprise quickly replaced by a thoughtful expression. "Why? It's... a way to show someone you care about them. It doesn't have to be big or expensive. Just meaningful," she says. She leans closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "It's also supposed to be a surprise."

One of the human men, a sturdy fellow with a beard, overhears our conversation and saunters over. "You're overthinking it, big guy," he says with a chuckle, clapping me on the shoulder like we're old friends. "Just make something with your own hands. My wife loves it when I do that."

The advice is simple, but it resonates with me. My hands, scarred and hardened from years of wielding an axe, have taken many lives. Perhaps it's time they created something life-affirming instead.

"Thanks," I grunt.

Later that afternoon, the light casts long shadows across the snow. I approach Claire, her figure framed by the mouth of the cave, as she's helping the others settle in. The humans have taken to calling this place their temporary home, but to me, it's just another hideout in a world filled with danger.

"There's a beast nearby," I say, my voice echoing off the stone walls. "I can track it. It'll feed everyone."

Claire's face pales. "You're going alone?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

I nod, the weight of my axe a familiar presence on my back. "I can handle it," I say with confidence.

She doesn't argue, but the worry lines etched into her forehead tell a different story.

I turn and leave as the familiar scent of the wild fills my nostrils. The trail of the beast is like a beacon, its heavy footprints a clear path through the snow straight ahead.

I've only gone a short distance when a familiar voice pierces the silence. "Thrag, wait!"

I spin around, my hand instinctively reaching for my axe. Claire is hurrying toward me with her boots crunching in the snow. Her chest heaves with exertion, and her breath forms little clouds in the frigid air.

"Why are you here?" I snap, concern flickering in my golden eyes.

She stops a few paces away, her cheeks flushed from the cold. "I... I was scared you wouldn't come back," she whispers.

Her words hit me like a physical blow. The vulnerability in her voice tugs at something deep within me. I step closer, my towering frame casting a shadow over her.

"I will always come back," I say, my voice softer than intended. "As long as you're there, I'll come back."

Her eyes widen slightly. We stand there, locked in a moment of unspoken understanding. The world around us fades into the background, and all I can see is her. She's beautiful, and for the first time in my life, I understand the meaning of the word.

I'm not one for softness or tenderness. I've lived a life of bloodshed and solitude, a wanderer with nothing to offer but protection and strength. Yet, here I stand, on the precipice of something new, something terrifying in its fragility.

"Claire," I say, my voice rumbling like distant thunder. "You should be back at the cave. It's not safe here."

She steps closer. "I know," she replies, her voice steady despite the chill in the air. "But I can't let you face this danger alone."

I grunt,a mix of frustration and admiration for her courage. "I'm not some helpless pup, Claire. I've tracked and hunted beasts twice my size," I say matter-of-factly.

Her lips curve into a small smile, her breath forming little puffs of mist in the frigid air. "I know that, too," she says softly. "But we're stronger together, aren't we?"

Her words strike a chord within me, a resonance that echoes the beat of my own heart. I've spent my life pushing others away, building walls to keep from getting hurt. But Claire... she's different. She's chipped away at my defenses, revealing a vulnerability I never knew I possessed.

Before I can second-guess myself, I lean down, capturing her lips in a fierce, passionate kiss. Her hands find their way to my face, her fingers tracing my skin.

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