Page 14 of Orri

Those men,grabbing at me and pulling me and laughing. Watching as Bjornick fell right before my eyes, his mouth open in a final plea for mercy. Their rough hands and rougher threats as they led us far away and threw us into the cell. I’d tried to stand up for the others — they had a child, for god’s sake — but they took it out on me instead. Slapped me right across the face, threw me down hard enough that I twisted my ankle and heard something crack as I fell onto the concrete.

Their lewd gestures. Their terrible threats that we’d be good for breeding, that they’d take turns with us until we weren’t of ‘any use’ anymore. The cries. The whimpering. The fear. And on top of it all, the heat…

* * *

It all washesover me like a tsunami, and I crumple under the pressure, sliding down the wet, soapy wall and curling in on myself, not caring that the water’s still running.

It will wash away my tears, and I’ll try to forget about losing Bjornick. Someday.

RAIN SHOWER

ISABELLA

The shower pours down on me like rain, the deluge mirroring my emotional state. I’m ugly crying on the shower floor, my limbs shaking and my mind on fire as every cruel moment flashes through my head over and over, fresh as it was the first time. I’m frozen in place, caught like a helpless deer in the headlights, and all I can do is sob. For all the things I’ve lost, and all the things that could have been.

I thought I had a chance to rebuild my life here on Aesirheim. I thought it would be a new start, a new beginning.

I thought a lot of things, and none of them came true.

So here I am, sobbing and alone in this high-tech shower. Guess money can’t buy happiness after all. My mind drifts for a few moments as I drown (almost literally) in my sorrows, then the atmosphere changes slightly. The rush of moving air floats over my tired body, and then the shower spray suddenly stops. I open my eyes. Did something break?

No. Orri’s there, right in front of me, crouching between the shower water and myself. He’s still wearing a white shirt and something similar to boxers, but seems unfazed by the water. His gaze rests solely on me, and without a word, he reaches out and takes my sobbing body into his arms.

Confusion bubbles up first — I thought he’d changed his mind about me? — but the sheer need to be held wins out and I melt into his arms. I’m still sobbing, still shaking and clinging to the wet fabric of his white shirt. It’s getting soaked and it sticks to his skin, going translucent and accentuating each of his muscles. He doesn’t seem to care, just holds me closer. One hand finds the back of my head and brushes the wet strands away from my face.

I know he’s saying something, but I’m caught in a whirlwind of fear and confusion. The deep timbre of his voice glides into my ear, his sincerity carrying the words even when I don’t want to hear them. That doesn’t matter though, when I can feel the warmth of his skin and the gentleness of his touch. One arm holds me to his body and shields me from the spray while the other deftly turns the knobs and lets it all drain away. Without another word, he gathers me up in his arms and stands, carrying me out of the shower and back into the bathroom itself.

Tears stream down my face, wetting his bare chest, but he doesn’t let go. He doesn’t leave, even when I’m slumped and sobbing against his shoulder.

He works with incredible, determined efficiency. That much I can recognize as he grabs my clothes and sits me on the bathroom counter, looking up at him. He flicks a switch on the wall next to the lights, and a heated fan starts blowing from above, covering us with warm air and drying our bodies. The warmth soothes my muscles and lulls me into a soft, gentle embrace. He doesn’t let go of me the whole time, and though there’s still a war in my mind, having him here next to me is the tether I need.

Feeling his strength and his presence isn’t quiteenough, but it soothes something deep inside of me and keeps the worst of the panic at bay. Visions and snippets of the past few days fly in and out of my mind still, but they float by and go on their way now, like leaves on a stream.

The years I spent with my abusive asshole ex Adik. The crazy gleam he got in his eye when I defied him, or when he had too much to drink. The long nights in secret while I researched the Intergalactic Surrogacy Agency, and finally found the right time to sneak out and catch a shuttle over to the center. The fear and trepidation I felt as I went through their intake procedures, wondering if this would really work.

And then the awe and hope that came over me as we touched down on Aesirheim, and the charm of my alpha mate being the most kind and gentle man I’d ever met. More than I deserved. To the flames of the raid. The fear. The sickening crack of my bones breaking on the concrete floor as men laughed and jeered at me.

Then there was Orri. Only Orri. He saved me. More than once, actually. He saved me from the kidnappers. He made sure I got medical assistance. And then, in the depths of my heat, he was there, all raw lust and power and snarling alpha.

Except for one thing. The thing I needed above everything else…

When we’re both dry, he picks me up again and carries me to the bedroom, gathering several of the blankets in one arm while still holding me with the other. He’s so strong, he makes multitasking look easy. We go into the living room, where he lays down several of the blankets and sits me on top of them on the couch, making sure to wrap every inch of my body in their swaddling warmth.

Mmm. I know it must look kind of silly, but the warmth and weight of the blankets quells a little bit more of the rising panic. It’s nice, actually. Like a cocoon, protective and safe. He leaves the room for a few seconds, and a spike of fear crackles up my spine for an instant before he returns, this time without a shirt and wearing a clean and dry pair of shorts.

A few water droplets still cling to his toned body despite the dryers. My eyes follow one of them down as it rolls past his pecs and down the ridge of his abs before disappearing into his waistband. My mouth goes dry at the sight and my heart skips a beat, because those shorts leave nothing to the imagination.

But then he sits down next to me, wraps his arms around me, and just…sits there. Letting me feel his presence. Not demanding. Not expecting anything. Just being there.

And that’s more than any man has ever done for me before. It’s nice.

I sniff, the last of the tears drying on my cheeks. When I look up at him at last, his eyes are soft. Worried, even. This isn’t the face of a man who’s going to hurt me or betray me. He looks genuinely concerned.

Which is all the worse for me, because I shouldn’t be wanting him in the first place. I shouldn’t be feeling any of this at all, because Bjornick…

“Isabella.” The word finally breaks through the mental fog when I see it fall from his lips. “You are safe.”

Safe. Funny how for so long, that was something I took for granted. And yet it’s something I haven’t had the luxury to feel, not in a very long time. I blink up at him, my tear-reddened eyes burning. “I...” My throat burns. My voice cracks. “I shouldn’t…Bjornick…if he was here…”

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