Page 49 of Her Rugged Orcs

I cup Eira's face in my hand, tilting it up to meet my gaze. "I won't break."

She scowls, but I see the smile she tries to hide. "You better not. I just got you back."

The possessiveness in her voice makes me want to kiss her senseless, but there will be time for that later. Right now, we need to move. Anyone who tries to stop us, to take her from us again, will meet my axe - wound or no wound.

I take point as we begin our journey, every sense alert for danger. Eira walks behind me, protected by Murok and Dren, exactly as it should be. Let the dark elves try to take her. I'll paint the forest red with their blood before I let that happen.

35

MUROK

The morning sun barely breaks through the dense canopy as we begin our trek back to the settlement. Grash takes point, his massive form cutting through the undergrowth. My eyes scan our surroundings, catching every shadow, every movement. Eira walks between us, protected as she should be. The way she moves now - confident yet cautious - makes my chest tighten with pride.

A breeze carries the distinct scent of leather oil and steel - dark elf scouts. My nostrils flare as I catch Dren's eye. He's noticed it too.

"Something's wrong," I mutter, placing my hand on Eira's shoulder to slow her pace.

"I smell them," Grash growls from ahead.

The forest goes quiet - too quiet. My fingers tighten around my blade as five dark elf scouts emerge from the trees, their armor gleaming dully in the filtered sunlight.

"Down!" I shove Eira behind a fallen log as arrows whistle past.

One scout raises a horn to his lips. Before I can reach him, the sharp blast echoes through the trees, signaling our position to the main force.

"Fuck," I snarl, driving my blade into his throat. Blood sprays across my chest as I spin to face another.

Grash roars, his axe cleaving through two scouts at once. Dren appears like smoke behind the fifth, ending him with skilled precision.

"They'll be coming," Grash says, wiping blood from his axe. "All of them."

"Then we run," I say, already moving to lift Eira.

"I can keep up," she protests, but I cut her off.

"Not fast enough. Let me carry you - we need speed now."

Her green eyes flash with defiance, but she nods, allowing me to lift her. Smart girl.

We push hard through the forest, covering ground quickly but not quick enough. The sounds of pursuit grow closer - boots crushing leaves, branches snapping, orders being shouted.

"Half a day's run to the settlement," I call out between breaths. "We need to move faster."

"They're gaining," Dren warns from behind us.

An arrow thunks into a tree beside my head. I curse, changing direction sharply. "This way!"

We've covered maybe half the distance to safety when I hear the horns again - closer now, too close. They're herding us, the clever bastards.

I scan our surroundings, calculating distances and angles. The settlement's too far - we'll never make it without engaging them.

"They're boxing us in," I say, my braids whipping as I turn to face the others. "Two squadrons, moving in formation."

Grash spits blood, his earlier wound still fresh. "Then we end this." His massive knuckles crack as he flexes his hands. Thesound reminds me of breaking bones - a promise of what's to come.

I unsheathe my blade. "Your wound-"

"Won't slow me down," he cuts me off with a growl.

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