Page 31 of Her Rugged Orcs

The mountain forest welcomes me into its shadows as I stride away from camp. Branches crack under my boots, but I don't care about stealth right now. Let the night creatures hear me coming. Let them run. I need something to chase that isn't her.

My fist connects with a tree trunk, bark splintering beneath my knuckles. The pain grounds me, but it's nothing compared to the ache within me. I've killed without hesitation, faced death without fear, but this? This rips me apart.

"You're a fool," I mutter to myself, pressing my forehead against the rough bark. "She's either innocent and you're hurting her, or she's guilty and you're a bigger fool for wanting her anyway."

The wind whispers through the leaves. Even here, surrounded by darkness and solitude, all I can think about isgoing back. Laying beside her. Pulling her into my arms where she fits like she was made for me.

I punch the tree again, harder this time, feeling my skin split. Blood trickles down my fingers. It's easier to focus on this pain than the one tearing my heart to shreds.

23

EIRA

The flames blur through my tears as I stare into the dying fire. My chest feels like it's being crushed by an invisible weight. After everything—the pits, the escape, the nights spent trusting them with my life—they think I would betray them?

"Stupid," I whisper, wiping furiously at my cheeks. "Stupid to think anyone would ever..."

The words catch in my throat. The mountain wind whips around me, biting through my thin dress, but I barely feel it. The physical cold is no match to the ice spreading through my chest.

I glance at Grash's pack lying nearby. Inside are supplies, enough to survive for a while. My fingers brush the hilt of my short sword, then trace one of my daggers.

"I should have known better." My voice cracks. "Should have known it would end like this."

The accusation in Murok's eyes, the way Grash turned away, how even Dren—gentle, quiet Dren—looked at me with doubt. It shouldn't hurt this much. I never fully trusted them either, did I? But somehow, they made me believe...

A sob tears from my throat. I press my fist against my mouth to stifle it, but the dam has broken. Tears stream down my face as my shoulders shake.

"I can't stay here." The words come out between gasps. "I can't—I can't watch them look at me like that anymore."

My hands tremble as I grab Grash's pack, securing it over my shoulder. I check my weapons—the familiar routine helps steady my breathing.

"They were just following orders anyway," I tell myself, but my voice wavers. "Just another broken thing to deliver. They won't really miss me."

I take one last look at the camp, memorizing the empty spaces where they should be. Where they chose not to be anymore.

"Goodbye," I whisper to no one, and then I run.

My feet pound against the mountain path as branches whip past my face. The moon casts silver shadows through the trees, but I barely notice the beauty. My mind keeps dragging me back to that night in the ruins when everything felt possible.

The way Dren's silver eyes had darkened with desire, how his usual silence had broken into soft groans under my body. His gentleness as his lips brushed the top of my head afterwards.

Then Murok, with his clever hands and that knowing smirk that melted into something raw and real. He'd whispered things that made me believe I was more than just a mission, more than just a broken thing to be saved.

And Grash... My heart beats faster remembering how he'd held me after, like I was precious. His fierce protectiveness had turned to such tenderness.

That night, I'd let myself imagine a future. Waking up between them, belonging somewhere, to someone—to three someones who might actually want me for me. Not as a possession or a mission, but as myself.

"Love isn't for people like me," I whisper to the darkness. The word feels foreign on my tongue. Love. Is that what this ache in my chest is? This feeling like my heart is being torn apart?

I've never known real love. How can I recognize its loss? But I remember Dren's quiet devotion, Murok's challenging faith in me, Grash's fierce care. If that wasn't love, it was the closest I've ever come.

I force myself to keep moving. "I thought maybe they saw me. Really saw me."

But they saw a traitor instead. And maybe they're right.

The mountain wind carries away my sobs as I run faster, trying to outpace the memory of their touch, their protection, and everything I'd foolishly begun to hope for.

The mountain forest closes in around me. Branches snag my hair and scratch my face as I run deeper into the darkness. My lungs burn, but I can't stop. Won't stop. The night wraps around me, but even its darkness can't hide the truth I've always known.

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