Page 4 of Marked By the Broken Orc
She’s taller than most females I’ve met, athletic in build but delicate compared to my orc frame. The clothing she wears shows the lean muscle of someone who trains regularly. This female is not just beautiful, she’s formidable.
And I am inexplicably attracted to her.
This irritates me beyond measure. I did not come to Spokane to find a mate. I came here for my career, to establish myself as a firefighter in the human world, and possibly to search for any human relatives I might have. The last thing I need is a treacherous human female in my life.
And yet, I find myself entertaining the idea of taking this female to my bed and planting my seed in her womb. These types of destabilizing thoughts have never before entered my mind when meeting a female.
Why now?
I clench my jaw. Luckily, it’s only early fall. If this were the dark of winter, I would already have lost control completely, throwing back my head with a thunderous roar. She’d be in my arms, while I ran for the mountains to find a cave so I could keep her for weeks on end, making her mine.
But these are modern times and orcs don’t kidnap anymore.
“Do you live here?” I question, when she continues to silently stare at me. “Is this your apartment?”
She blinks out of her reverie. “Yes, this is where I live.”
Behind her, I can see into the small space. Three other human females back away from the door, their eyes wide as they gaze at my horns and tusks. The apartment appears to have the exact same floor plan as mine and is currently chaotic from their gathering. Music still plays loudly. “Turn down the music,” I growl again, louder this time, letting authority fill my voice.“I’m Kavin Irontree,” I repeat, wondering if they didn’t hear me clearly the first time. “I live next door with a shared wall between us. It’s past midnight and I need to be at work in the morning.”
The female’s blue eyes widen when I repeat my name. Does she know who I am? “Everyone out,” she says suddenly, turning to address her friends. “You heard him, we’re being too loud and he needs some sleep. We had fun, but the party’s over now. Thanks for coming, I’ll see you guys later.”
The music stops and I watch in amazement as my neighbor quickly complies with my demand and dismisses her friends without argument or negotiation. In my experience, humans—especially drunk humans—do not respond well to authority. Yet this one does, and I find myself both surprised and impressed.
Her friends gather their belongings quickly, shooting glances between her and me. I catch fragments of their whispered concerns as they collect coats and purses:
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“We don’t have to leave…”
“Text us when he’s gone.”
My neighbor reassures them with the quiet confidence of someone accustomed to handling herself. Even intoxicated, she clearly commands respect from her circle of friends.
As the other females file past me, I notice more details about my neighbor’s apartment. Everything is highly organized, despite the current party mess. Everything has its designated place. The discipline of someone with training.
I move aside as her friends exit, which causes me to enter the apartment and stand closer to the female. I inhale her scent, which is intoxicating. Heat spreads in my veins and I tamp it down quickly. My fists clench as I remind myself of my vows. I’ve seen what females can do to orc males, how they can destroy entire bloodlines with their betrayals.
I willnottake a bride. Ever.
The last friend leaves, and the door is shut behind them and suddenly we’re alone in the entryway of her apartment.
Her eyebrow crooks. “You’re the new firefighter,” she comments. “My name is Mia Martin, and you got my job.”
“Your job?”
“I wanted that position you got. I trained for years for it and interviewed but lost it, to you. As I said, you got my job.”
I look around, suddenly understanding what she’s trying to tell me. “This drunken celebration with friends wasn’t a celebration at all?”
“No, they were here to help me when I was down. I was mad I didn’t get the job because I couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t get it, considering I’m highly qualified.”
“Heh, I can understand how that would be difficult,” I answer. “Maybe you’ll get the next opening.” I refrain from telling her how I was offered this position six months ago and given a hefty signing bonus for my move across country.
She lets out a bitter laugh. “There won’t be a next opening for years. This was it.” Then she surprises me by stepping back, gesturing for me to follow her further into her apartment. I find myself accepting, stepping into her small space. The sudden intimacy of being alone with this female sets my body on high alert.
She moves to her small kitchen area and grabs a bottle of water. I notice she’s switching from alcohol, which shows good judgment. This female has discipline even when drinking.
“What are your qualifications?” I question, though part of me already knows they must be substantial.
