Page 53 of Her Rugged Orcs

"That's the last of them," Murok says, wiping sweat from his brow.

I glance over at Eira who sits beside Dren. Her fingers trace the fresh bandage at his side, her touch gentle but hesitant. Something twists in my chest at the sight. She says she loves us, shows it even, but I catch the way her eyes dart to the horizon sometimes.

"She's not going anywhere," Murok murmurs, reading my thoughts as usual.

I grunt, rolling my shoulders. "You don't know that."

The smoke rises thick and black against the morning sky. The haze stings my eyes, but I don't look away from Eira. Not whenevery moment feels like it could be the last. Not when I'm still unsure if she'll want to stay once we reach the settlement.

Eira looks up then, catching my gaze. There's still pain in those green eyes, still scars that might never fade, but there's something else too. Something that makes my blood run hot and my heart beat faster.

"You two planning to stare at that fire all day?" she calls out, a hint of her old spark in her voice.

"We’re finishing up burning the evidence. Just to be on the safe side. But with Dex dead, they won’t waste resources hunting us," Murok replies, his tactical mind already three steps ahead.

The flames leap higher, consuming our enemies, erasing all traces of the battle. But they can't erase what happened here. Can't erase the way Eira's hands shake when she thinks no one's watching, or how Dren's breath still catches with pain.

"We did what had to be done," I say, more to myself than anyone else.

Eira looks up at me again, those green eyes piercing straight through my soul. "Yes," she whispers. "We did."

The word 'we' catches in my chest like a blade. Because despite everything - the lies, the betrayal, the blood - she's still here. Still choosing us. For now, at least.

The wind carries the scent of smoke and charred flesh, but my focus remains on her delicate fingers as they trace patterns across Dren's bandaged side. She hasn't moved from his spot since the battle ended, her hair falling forward like a curtain as she leans over him. Each time his breath hitches, her hand tightens on his, anchoring him here.

My muscles coil with tension as I watch them. The choice ahead burns in my gut like molten steel. Return to the settlement, to our horde, deliver Eira to her sister like good warriors following orders - or take what's mine and disappear into the wild lands where no one could find us.

Murok hasn't said a word in a long while, but I know that calculating look in his eyes. He's weighing the same options, probably already mapping out escape routes in his head. Always the strategist, even now.

The tribal tattoos across my chest seem to burn as I consider betraying our chief, abandoning our mission. But watching Eira whisper something that makes even stoic Dren crack a smile, my chest tenses with a different kind of pain. The thought of losing her, of watching her walk away with her sister, makes my blood boil.

She belongs with us. With me. The way she fights beside us, the fire in those green eyes when she faces down death, how she fits perfectly against my chest at night - these aren't things you just let go.

But forcing her to choose between her sister and us... that could break whatever fragile trust we've rebuilt. And a broken Eira is much worse than no Eira at all.

I flex my fingers, remembering how it felt to sink my blade into Dex's throat, to watch the life drain from the bastard who dared cage her. I'd do it again. I'd kill anyone who tried to take her from us now.

The settlement lies less than half a day's journey ahead. Soon, I'll have to decide - be the good warrior or become the monster they always said orcs were. Claim what's mine or let her choose her own path.

Eira looks up then, catching my stare. Something flashes in those green eyes - understanding, maybe. Or fear.

As if reading my mind, Murok turns to Eira and blurts out, "What do you want now, Eira? Now that you're completely free."

My muscles tense as I wait for her answer, every fiber of my being ready to spring into action if she even hints at leaving us. My focus narrows to her face, watching every micro-expression.

Her green eyes catch the sunlight, burning with a new kind of fire - not the desperate flame of survival I'd seen in the pits, but something deeper, steadier. She lifts her chin, her golden hair catching the light as she looks at each of us in turn.

"I want to go home," she says, and my heart threatens to stop until she continues, "With all of you."

The tension drains from my body so fast I nearly stagger. My chest expands with a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. The urge to grab her, to crush her against me and never let go, nearly overwhelms me. But I hold back, watching as Dren's eyes soften and Murok's calculating expression melts into something warmer.

"You're sure?" I ask, my voice rougher than intended. "Your sister-"

"My sister has her life," Eira cuts me off, her fingers still intertwined with Dren's. "I want mine. With you. All of you."

Relief floods through me. I don't need to whisk her away into the wild lands after all. I can return to my horde with my head high and with Eira by my side. Because she wants it. Because she chooses us.

"Then it's settled," I growl, finally giving in to the urge to move closer, to rest my hand on her shoulder. Her skin is warm beneath my palm, and she leans into my touch like she's been craving it as much as I have. "You're ours for good."

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