Page 25 of Vargan

The question catches me off guard. I could lie, give her some line about keeping busy. But in the firelight, with her eyes on mine, I find I don't want to.

"Because I won't be here to protect you when Victor Hargrove makes his move," I say quietly. "I want to know you're safe, that your house is secure, that you can lock your doors and keep danger out."

The honesty in my voice surprises even me. Savvy's eyes widen slightly, her lips parting on an inhale that I can hear across the room.

"I can take care of myself," she says, but there's no bite in it.

"I know." And I do. She's the strongest human I've ever met. "But that doen’t keep me from wanting to help."

She's quiet for a long moment, watching me with an intensity that makes my skin hot. "Why did you walk away? That night, after..."

After I kissed her. After I crossed a line that can't be uncrossed. After I let myself pretend, for just a moment, that I could have something good and clean and untainted by what I am.

"Because I was afraid," I confess, the words dragged from some deep, honest place inside me. "Not of you. Of what I feel when I'm near you."

Her eyes never leave mine as she unfolds herself from the couch and moves toward me, each step deliberate. She stops just before the armchair, close enough that I can smell the rain on her skin, the hint of vanilla that clings to her hair.

"And what do you feel?" she asks, her voice barely audible over the storm.

The beast inside me stirs, but it's not rage driving it now. It's something far more dangerous—need. Want. A hunger that has nothing to do with food and everything to do with the woman standing before me.

I rise from the chair, bringing us chest to chest. She tilts her head back to maintain eye contact, fearless in a way that stuns me.

"Like maybe I've been wrong," I say, my voice rough with restraint. "About some humans."

Her hand lifts to my face, fingers tentative as they trace the line of my jaw, the curve of my tusk. I stand perfectly still, afraid to move, afraid to break whatever spell has fallen over us.

"Vargan," she whispers, and my name on her lips is almost my undoing.

Lightning strikes somewhere very close, the simultaneous crack of thunder making the house shudder. Savvy jumps, startled, and the moment shatters.

She takes a step back, then another, confusion and something like fear crossing her face. Not fear of me—fear of what almost happened. Again.

"I should check the windows upstairs," she says quickly. "Make sure they're closed. With this wind—"

"Savvy—"

"I'll be right back," she promises, but I can see the retreat in her eyes, the walls rebuilding. "Just... give me a minute."

She's gone before I can respond, footsteps hurrying up the stairs. I stand in the firelight, pulse hammering in my ears, wondering if I imagined the connection between us or if she felt it too.

It doesn't matter, I tell myself firmly. Tonight I'll finish the bike, let Hammer know I’m ready to move on, and I'll be gone. She'll be safe from Victor, from Royce, from me and the chaos that follows my kind like a curse.

This is for the best.

So why does it feel like I'm ripping out a vital organ with each step I take toward the door?

I pause, hand on the doorknob, one foot already over the threshold into the storm. Through the rain, I can see the diner's lights are back on—the power returning to at least part of town. I should go. Finish my bike. Leave before I do something we'll both regret.

But as lightning illuminates the yard between the house and garage, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the window—tusks, green skin, scars mapping a life of violence and loss. And behind me, the warm glow of a home I've never had, a woman I can never claim.

I close my eyes, torn between what I want and what I know is right. The decision should be easy. It's not.

With a growl of frustration, I step back inside, closing the door against the storm. I'll wait until the rain passes, make sure she's safe, then leave. One last night to watch over her.

Then I'll do what orcs always do—survive. Move forward. Forget.

Even if forgetting Savvy might be the hardest battle I've ever lost.

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