Page 2 of One Stolen Night with Her Orc

But safe from what?

Chapter 2

Poppy

“Sorry for the inconvenience,” I say as I scrape the bowl of stew clean and take another drink of the best beer I’ve ever had. Actually, it’s the best food I’ve had in a long time. My sister, Addy, and I mostly eat sandwiches and cheap pasta. I feel like a wild animal, hunched over my food. My eyes scan the room, taking in the group of tentacled monsters and orcs playing Rummikub in the corner. The kitchen and brew area must be behind the swinging door by the bar.

The fire in the stone hearth crackles as it warms me. The copper pipes and kettles reflect the flames in a mesmerizing dance of nature and architecture. It melts away all my embarrassment at having fainted. I would love to curl up in this booth with a book. Cozy and safe.

But that’s not why I’m here.

“You could never be an inconvenience,” Koru, the orc, says with an intense frown on his face as he sets down a mug of tea for me. His one broken fang sends a tingling shiver up my spine—I wonder how he broke it. I imagine the other guy looks worse.

Empty dishes picked up, he looks like he’s about to say something else, but then turns and walks away. It’s for the best; I’m here for one purpose. Flirting with the orc is not on my schedule. And if I want Addy and me to be safe, I need to stay focused.

Standing, I gather my scarf, hat, and layers to wrap up, trying to ignore Koru stoking the fire. Even though there’s still snow outside, his flannel shirt is cuffed over his forearms, exposing his thick, ropey muscles to the world. I’ve never thought much about orcs one way or the other, even though my family certainly does—which is why I’m here. My core flutters with something like anticipation as I gawk at him. His shirt must be thin as his back muscles ripple under his shirt as he makes the fire grow, hypnotizing me. My heart rate increases, a steady thump of,get closer.I’d love to feel those muscles flexing under my hands.

No, Poppy, focus. You have a job to do. Look away.

Begrudgingly, I look away. The brewery is atmospheric with wood and stone walls, big furniture—comfortable for both human and monsters, and a neat row of metallic steins lined up neatly behind the bar. It’s got such a great feel for it. My stepdad’s attempt at building a brewery is like child’s play compared to this place. Not that he would ever listen to my input.

Ah! There it is! An old-timey parchment paper rolled up and tied with a golden ribbon. It sits on a special shelf just above the golden, engraved stein.

It can’t be this easy. Can it? The recipe worth my freedom and my sister’s safety, just sitting there on a shelf in a brewery in this tiny town. I thought orcs were more possessive than this. A step closer, and I can see a small sign next to it that says, “Award winning recipe from the Great Northern Beer Rack Competition.” The idea that it sits there, unguarded for anyone to see, touch, take...takes my breath away and makes my hands itchy.

Marcus, my stepdad, said this would take a while. That it would be hard to find the recipe, seeing as orcs aresneaky vile creatures,his words, not mine.This one cast a spell on the judges. Be careful.One meal in, and I think orcs, especially Koru, are majestic and powerful. It’s possible his fire and body have already put a spell on me. From all I’ve seen, I’m okay with that. Though, they may be a bit gullible if they’re leaving prize-winning recipes lying about in plain sight.

Then again, when do I ever trust Marcus? Never.

Except for now. I’m here only because I have to hope that he’ll uphold the end of his promise. This will be my last theft. Ihaveto believe that he’ll keep his word. That my sister Addy, and myself, will be free after this. She’ll have an education paid for, and I’ll no longer have to be his pawn and thief. I will be free to make my own choices, forge my own path.

Flannel, sweater, coat, six feet of blue scarf that Addy knit for me, the matching hat she also knit, fingerless gloves, and mittens. Oof, I’m already sweating. When Koru stands and stretches, the fluttering sensation inside me feels out of control. I put my hand on my heart to steady myself—but my stupid heart sends me messages that conflict with what I need to do.

What I need to do is get away from here, quickly, with the recipe, and hide to wait for Marcus to collect me and his prize that he swears will change his life. My stepdad is such a sore loser. He raged for days after the beer competition, swearing that the orc had put a spell on the judges. That there was no way possible that an orc could make a better beer than him.

After he calmed down and sobered up, he concocted this plan. To steal the recipe, claim it for himself, and make himself rich off the work of this orc. I stopped questioning Marcus’s schemes years ago. It’s safer that way. I do what I’m told so that one day, very soon, I can be free.

---