Page 23 of The Orc's Promised Bride

As beautiful as it appeared, it also reminded her of how far she was from home. No power lines crossed the sky. No cars moved through the streets. The smoke rising from chimneys came from wood fires, not industrial stacks.

A gust of wind whipped her hair around her face, and she wrapped her arms around herself, chilled by both the breeze and the reminder that she was in another world.

Lothar pulled a heavy cloak out of his pack and draped it over her shoulders. The wool was rough but warm, smelling faintly of him, and she was grateful for the additional layer. She was still wearing one of his shirts, now tucked into a pair of his pants that he’d cut off and tied around her waist with a brightly colored sash. It was better than being naked but she suspected it was far from flattering.

“Stay close to me when we enter the town,” he said quietly. “I will not allow anyone to hurt you, but human females are not common here.”

She nodded and pulled the cloak tighter, suddenly feeling exposed even though no one in the town below had glanced up in their direction. She could see people moving through the streets - all of them much larger than her. Some had green skinlike Lothar, others were pale or dark, but none looked quite human. The unfamiliar architecture and strange people should have terrified her, but his solid presence at her back made her feel oddly secure.

She turned to face him, tilting her head back to meet his eyes. The warmth in his eyes caused a corresponding warmth to unfurl in her chest. Without thinking, she rose on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his.

For one perfect moment, everything clicked into place - but then she realized he’d gone completely still. She pulled back, studying his face.

“What’s wrong?”

His jaw clenched, muscles tight.

“I’m trying to control myself. Don’t want to frighten you again.”

The memory of their kiss by the stream flashed through her mind - how right it had felt until his arms had tightened around her. But this was different. She wasn’t trapped or confined. She was choosing this.

“I’m not afraid,” she whispered, reaching up to trace one of his tusks. “Not of you.”

She kissed him again, gentle at first. This time he responded, his lips moving against hers as one large hand came up to cradle the back of her head. The bond between them pulsed, and her heart raced. His tongue teased her lips, coaxing them apart, and she opened eagerly.

The taste of him filled her senses and heat pooled in her core, making her ache for him. His other arm went around her, gently pulling her close as the kiss deepened. He was careful, so verycareful, not to hold her too tightly, but she wanted to melt into him, wanted his strong arms to surround her.

His tusks should have been awkward but somehow they weren’t, and when they finally broke apart, she was breathless and trembling, her head spinning. He kept his arm around her, supporting her as she steadied herself with a hand on his chest, feeling his heart thundering beneath her palm. His eyes were dark with desire as he looked down at her, and she felt an answering warmth curl through her body.

“Are you sure that was a good idea?” he asked hoarsely.

She frowned at him.

“Why would you say that?”

“I don’t want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable.”

He was giving her an out, a way to pretend it had been an impulse or a mistake. He understood that acknowledging her attraction meant facing her own vulnerabilities. The thought terrified her, but for the first time in years, she didn’t want to accept that she was broken.

“I was the one who kissed you,” she reminded him. “I don’t regret it. Do you?”

“Gods, no. But-”

She stopped his words with a kiss, quick and light, then stepped back.

“No buts.”

“We should head down to the town,” he said after a pause, though his voice was still rough.

“Yes, we should.”

As they made their way down off the ridge and into the winding streets of Port Cael, she tucked her hand in his arm, comforted by the powerful muscles beneath her hand.

Despite the strangeness of the buildings, the streets were surprisingly clean. There were a number of what looked like shops, each displaying their wares in small, clear windows. The first few doors were closed, but the next was open, revealing a shop that sold an assortment of household goods. She wanted to slow down and look around, but his earlier caution was enough to keep her moving.

As they made their way closer to the market by the harbor, the scents hit her first - exotic spices that tickled her nose, the sweet perfume of ripe fruit, and something savory that made her stomach rumble. The marketplace was a riot of color and motion. Vendors called out from behind stalls draped in vibrant fabrics, their wares displayed in neat rows. Fresh produce gleamed in wooden crates, and intricate handmade goods caught the sunlight.

But what really caught her attention were the people. Massive orc males dominated the crowd. Their builds varied from burly to lean, but all moved with surprising grace. The few orc females she spotted were tall and striking, their features softer than the males but no less commanding.

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