Page 8 of The Orc's Promised Bride

She had frozen as well but her weak ankle wouldn’t allow her to pull away.

“Your ankle won’t hold you,” he said. “Please. I promised you’re safe with me, and I keep my promises.”

She bit her lip, then gave a small nod. He scooped her up as gently as possible, but her entire body went rigid in his arms. The mate bond hummed between them, and his heart soared despite her obvious discomfort. She weighed almost nothing to him, fragile and precious. He tightened his grip, taking care not to hurt her. The feel of her against his chest was intoxicating but he did his best to ignore it.

“I am glad you can understand me,” he said, picking his way carefully through the underbrush. “Kari says I sound like a grumpy lion.”

That earned him a tiny smile.

“I don’t think you sound like a lion at all.”

“Good. Although, to be fair, I haven’t met a lion.”

“Giant wolves and no lions.” She shook her head. “Where is this place?”

“We are in the foothills of the Dragon’s Teeth. I suspect you are far from home,” he added gently.

“Yes.”

He could almost taste her sadness.

“Is there anyone who will be searching for you?”

The question left a bitter taste in his mouth, but he had to know.

“No.”

She wasn’t looking at him, staring out into the forest instead.

“What about family?”

“There’s only me.”

He carried her in silence for a moment, trying to figure out what to say. He wanted her to keep talking, wanted to hear her voice and discover everything about her, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead he resorted to his usual humor.

“Perhaps the gods are making up for my brothers,” he said lightly. “I have two.”

“I don’t have any brothers or sisters. My mother was… damaged, giving birth to me. She could not be fruitful and multiply.”

The sadness in her voice had been replaced by bitterness, but some of the tension leaked from her shoulders. She felt less like a board in his arms and he tucked her a little closer as he considered her words. Did humans also have problems with breeding? Kari had not mentioned it.

Her muscles gradually relaxed as he made his way back to his camp, stepping carefully to avoid jostling her ankle. She winced as he lowered her onto his bedroll, despite his care, and he frowned. The sooner her injuries were tended to, the better. He dug through his pack, pulled out a clean shirt, and held it out to her.

“Here. Much better than leaves.”

That earned him another small smile. He turned to give her privacy, focusing on rebuilding the fire. The sounds of rustling fabric made his ears twitch, but he kept his eyes fixed on his task until the flames caught and danced upwards.

When he looked back, his breath caught. The sight of her in his shirt did something strange to his chest, and he swallowed hard. She was so small and delicate and precious.

He studied her, unable to look away. Short, dark hair framed a heart-shaped face and her skin gleamed gold in the firelight. Those big dark eyes met his and the feeling of rightness, of connection, deepened.

The urge to wrap her in his arms and promise that nothing would ever hurt her again threatened to overwhelm him, and for a moment he couldn’t breathe. Rose tinted her cheekbones and she started to raise her hand to her hair, then winced, recalling him to his promise.

“I will bring water to cleanse your wounds.”

He stood and her eyes went wide with panic.

“Wait-” Her voice shook. “Don’t-”

---