Page 23 of Her Rugged Orcs

DREN

The flames dance before my eyes, casting shadows across the crumbling stone walls. Everyone else is asleep. Their breathing is a steady rhythm against the crackling fire. But sleep eludes me tonight. My thoughts keep fixating on Eira.

She lies curled on her side wrapped in my cloak. Even in sleep, tension lines her face. My fingers itch to smooth away the furrow between her brows, but I keep my hands firmly at my sides.

The way she jerked away from me that morning in the cave... It shouldn't bother me this much. I've seen the scars that mark her skin, can only imagine what she endured. Touch has meant pain or demands for her. Never comfort. Never protection.

The firelight catches on her pale hair, and my chest tightens. She killed those dark elves today without hesitation, her movements precise and deadly. The warrior she's becoming only makes her more... I can't even finish the thought.

My hand clenches at my side. Twenty-eight years I've lived, fought, killed - and never once has anyone affected me like this. I never wanted to hold someone just to feel them breathe. Neverached to protect someone not out of duty, but because their pain becomes my own.

But she's just a mission. Get her to safety, deliver her to her sister, return to the horde. Simple. Clean. Yet nothing about this feels simple or clean anymore.

The fire pops, sending sparks into the air. I watch them fade, just like any hope of her staying once she learns the truth. She already distrusts affection - how will she react when she discovers we were sent to save her? That every moment of protection was ordered rather than freely given?

A bitter laugh threatens to escape my throat. I've spent years perfecting the art of silence, of staying unseen. Now I'm undone by a human woman who sees too much, even when I wish she wouldn't.

I add another log to the fire, watching the flames consume it. Just like she's consuming me, bit by bit, whether she knows it or not.

I soon move closer to Eira, careful to keep enough distance between us. The stone floor digs into my side as I settle down, positioning myself where I can protect her if danger comes. Her breathing has evened out, but occasionally she shivers despite my cloak wrapped around her small frame.

Sleep comes in fits and starts, my warrior's instincts keeping me alert even in rest. A slight movement stirs me, and my eyes snap open. The realization hits me like a physical blow - Eira has shifted in her sleep, pressing herself against me. Her face is tucked into my neck, her warm breath ghosting across my skin with each exhale.

My body betrays me instantly. Heat pools in my groin, and my heart pounds so hard I worry it might wake her. Her scent fills my nose - rain and something uniquely her. One of her hands rests against my chest, her delicate fingers splayed over my heart.

I don't dare move. Don't dare breathe too deeply. The slightest shift and she might wake, might realize how her closeness affects me. My cock strains against my pants, and I grit my teeth, fighting for control.

She makes a small sound in her sleep, nuzzling closer, and it takes every ounce of willpower not to groan. Her leg slides between mine, innocent in sleep but maddening to my awakened body. Her hair tickles my chin, soft as silk against my skin.

The fire has burned low, casting just enough light to illuminate her face. In sleep, the sharp edges of distrust smooth away, leaving her looking young and vulnerable. My arm aches to wrap around her, to pull her closer still.

But I remain motionless, my breath shallow, my body rigid with need. This torture is sweeter than any pleasure I've known, and more dangerous than any battle I've fought. Because in this moment, with her trusting sleep-warm body pressed against mine, I realize just how deeply she's worked her way under my skin.

Every muscle in my body is locked tight as Eira shifts against me again, her soft curves molding to my harder frame. Her scent fills my lungs with each careful breath making my blood run hot. The thin fabric of her dress does nothing to hide the warmth of her skin seeping into mine.

"You're warm," she murmurs, her voice thick with sleep. Her fingers curl against my chest, and something inside me shatters.

Without thinking, I thread my fingers through her damp hair. The silken strands slip between my fingers like water. So delicate. So precious. I wrap my other arm around her waist, drawing her closer until there's no space left between us.

She sighs, a sound of pure contentment that shoots straight to my groin. Her leg slides higher between mine, and I have to bite back another groan. My cock throbs demanding more. But I won't take. Won't hurt her like others have.

Instead, I keep my touch feather-light as I stroke her hair, even as every instinct screams to claim her, mark her, make her mine. Her breath tickles my neck, sending shivers down my spine. Each tiny movement of her body against mine is exquisite torture.

I know I should push her away. This isn't part of the mission. She's meant for safety, for her sister's protection - not for a scarred warrior's desires. But as she nuzzles closer, making those small sounds in her throat, I know I'm gone. I'll never be able to let her go.

I've killed for her without hesitation. I'd do it again. I'd tear apart anyone who tried to harm her. But this - this gentle touch, this unconscious trust - terrifies me more than any battle will. Because I know when she learns the truth, she'll hate me. And still, I'll want her. Still, I'll protect her.

Her fingers flex against my chest again, but she doesn't fully wake. Just settles deeper into my embrace, fitting against me like she was made to be there. Like this is where she belongs.

The fire pops, sending shadows dancing across her face. I memorize every detail, knowing this moment can't last. But for now, she's in my arms. For now, I can pretend she's mine.

Sleep claims me like a gentle tide. My warrior's instincts finally yield to exhaustion. Eira's warmth seeps into my bones and my arms tighten around her unconsciously, pulling her closer.

In my dreams, she's mine. Not a mission, not a duty, but mine by choice. Those green eyes look at me with trust instead of wariness. Those clever hands reach for me without hesitation. I imagine teaching her to fight properly, watching her grow stronger under my protection. I dream of her laughter, free and unguarded.

The stone floor beneath us might as well be the softest bed. Her steady heartbeat against my chest lulls me deeper into sleep.For the first time since I was a child, I don't dream of battle or blood. I dream of her smile, of a future that can never be mine.

17

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