Page 22 of Vargan

"No." The word comes too quickly, too forcefully. "Got business elsewhere."

"Mmhmm." Silas doesn't sound convinced. "Well, that part for your bike should be here around noon. Should be able to finish repairs today."

Today. The word hits like a stone in my gut. Today I could leave this town behind. Leave Savvy to face Victor Hargrove and his nephew alone. Face my freedom at her expense.

"Good," I say, the lie bitter on my tongue.

The diner is packed when we arrive with the breakfast rush in full swing. Deliberately, I've timed our arrival to when the most eyes will be on us. Let them see the orc moving freely through their town. Let word get back to Victor.

Helen seats us at a booth near the window. The usual murmurs follow me through the room, but they lack the fear of days ago. Shadow Ridge is adjusting to my presence, whether they like it or not.

Savvy is behind the counter, filling coffee cups with practiced efficiency. She notices us—I see the slight hitch in her movements—but doesn't approach. Instead, she sends Mandy, the new teenage waitress, to take our order.

"She's avoiding you," Silas observes after Mandy leaves.

"Good," I grunt, though something in my chest aches at the confirmation.

"You two have a falling out?"

I stare out the window at Victor's black truck parked just down the street. Always watching. Always waiting. "Something like that."

Silas follows my gaze. "He's getting desperate. Been calling emergency town meetings, trying to pressure the last holdouts. Says he's got a deadline with the developer."

"What's his endgame?"

"Resorts. Golf courses. Luxury condos for city folks wanting a taste of country living without the actual country part." Silas's voice is bitter. "Shadow Ridge becomes 'Shady Valley Estates' or some such bullshit. And he makes a huge profit in the mix."

"And you all are just letting it happen?" I can't keep the judgment from my voice.

"Easy to stand firm when you've got nothing to lose," Silas says mildly. "I'm old, no family left. My house is paid for. But most folks here have mortgages, medical bills, kids to feed. Victor offered cash. Not fair value, but enough to start over somewhere else."

Our food arrives, brought by Helen instead of Mandy. She sets down my plate, loaded with enough protein and carbs to feed two humans, and gives me a look that could strip paint.

"You're an idiot," she says with an impressive snarl.

I raise an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." She plants her hands on her hips. "That girl hasn't smiled in two days. Fix it."

Before I can respond, she's gone, leaving me to stare after her in confusion. Silas chuckles.

"Helen's been here since the very beginning," he explains. "Thinks of Savvy like a daughter."

I return to my food, trying not to look toward the counter where I can feel Savvy's presence like a physical weight against my skin. This is better. Distance protects her. From me, from what I am, from the violence that follows my kind like a shadow.

Humans can't be trusted. Even ones like Savvy, who seem different. She'd asked for my comfort that night, but in the light of day, she'd have seen me for what I really am. Monster. Killer. Orc. And she'd have hated herself for wanting me.

I did her a favor by walking away first.

So why does it feel like ripping open a wound every time I catch her scent on the breeze?

By mid-afternoon, I've replaced three rotting boards on the farmhouse's front steps. The work is mindless, allowing my thoughts to wander as I measure, cut, and nail. Orcs need constant activity—it's how we're built. In the camps, they'd work us from dawn to dusk, channeling our energy into construction, training, anything to keep us from turning that energy against them.

I've chosen to work outside where I can keep one eye on the diner across the street. Victor's truck has circled the block four times since I started. Message received, asshole. I'm watching too.

My phone rings—Crow, one of my brothers from the club.

"How's exile, brother?" he asks when I answer.

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