Page 29 of Her Orc Protector

We crossed the tavern toward a narrow staircase at the back. The second floor was quieter, a long hallway lit by wall sconces that cast flickering shadows across wooden doors. Uldrek led me to the third door on the right, fitting the key into the lock with a soft metallic scrape.

The room beyond was simple but clean—a narrow bed with a wool blanket, a small table with a single chair, and thick curtains drawn across a window that presumably overlooked the street below. A single oil lamp burned on the table, casting the room in soft, amber light. It wasn't luxurious, but it was private. Safe.

Uldrek stepped inside after me, closing the door with a solid click. He set the key on the table, then leaned back against the door, just watching me. The distance between us couldn't have been more than a few feet, but it felt vast—a space filled with possibility and uncertainty.

"Still time to change your mind, you know," he said after a moment, his voice rougher than before. "I'll tell everyone we came up here to nap if that makes it easier."

The joke was familiar, but there was something different in his tone—a tension that hadn't been there before. I realized with a start that he was nervous. The thought was strangely reassuring. I wasn't the only one stepping into uncharted territory.

I moved closer, close enough to see the rise and fall of his chest, the slight flare of his nostrils as he tracked my movement. Close enough to catch his scent—warm leather, fir, and something distinctly him, earthy and clean.

"I won't change my mind," I said firmly.

His eyes searched mine, looking for hesitation or doubt. I wondered what he saw there. Fear, yes—but not of him. Of what this meant. Of how it might change us.

"This isn't just a bite," he said, his voice low and serious. "This is..." He trailed off, seeming to struggle for words. Instead, he lifted his hand and touched my jaw, his fingers surprisingly gentle against my skin.

The touch sent a shiver through me that had nothing to do with fear. I leaned into it, just slightly, a silent affirmation.

"Then make sure you do it right," I said, surprised by the steadiness in my own voice.

Something flickered in his eyes—a heat, a hunger that was quickly controlled but not hidden. His thumb brushed my cheek, a fleeting caress, before his hand dropped back to his side.

"It will hurt," he said bluntly. "Not just the bite. The bond. It's… intense."

"I've experienced pain before," I said quietly.

A shadow crossed his face. "Not like this. This isn't punishment or control. It's connection. Recognition." He paused. "Choosing."

The word hung between us, heavy with meaning. He was still giving me space to walk away. Still making sure this was truly my choice.

I reached up and undid the clasp of my cloak, letting it fall from my shoulders to puddle at my feet. A simple action, but it felt symbolic—removing the first barrier, showing I wasn't hiding anymore.

Uldrek's eyes darkened further, tracking the movement. His throat worked as he swallowed.

"Tell me why you're doing this," he said, the words almost a command. "Not for the Council. Not for protection. Why are you really here?"

The question caught me off guard, but I found I had an answer ready. "Because I'm tired of being afraid," I said honestly. "Because every time I've trusted you, you've proven worthy of it. Because this started as a lie, but it doesn't feel like one anymore." I took a breath. "Because I want to."

He held my gaze for a long moment, searching for truth in my words. Whatever he saw seemed to satisfy him. He straightened from the door, closing the distance between us with a single step.

"Where?" he asked.

I reached up and pulled at the collar of my tunic, exposing the junction between my neck and shoulder. "Here," I said. "Where it will be seen."

His eyes fixed on the spot, his expression intensifying. Slowly, deliberately, he lifted his hand again, this time brushing his fingers against the exposed skin. I shivered at the contact, my body responding to his touch in ways that surprised me.

"Are you cold?" he asked, mistaking my reaction.

I shook my head. "No." I didn't elaborate. I didn't need to. The way his eyes darkened told me he understood.

Uldrek's hands moved to my shoulders, strong and steady. "Sit," he said, guiding me toward the edge of the bed.

I sat, my hands folded tightly in my lap. He knelt before me, bringing his face level with mine. In the amber light, his features seemed softer, the hard lines of his jaw and cheekbones less severe. His eyes, though, were intense—focused entirely on me.

"I need to hear you say it," he said quietly. "One more time."

I met his gaze without flinching. "I choose this, Uldrek. I choose you."

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