Page 55 of Her Orc Healer

When I finally came back to myself, I was slumped against his chest, my face buried in the crook of his neck. His arms were around me, solid and warm, keeping me from falling. The world felt different—sharper and softer all at once, as if some lens had been wiped clean.

"Breathe," he murmured into my hair, one large hand rubbing soothing circles on my back. "That's it. Just breathe."

I did, drawing in the scent of him—herbs and leather and the faintest hint of musk. It was grounding, familiar in a way it shouldn't have been given how little time we'd known each other.

When I finally found the courage to lift my head, I expected to see smugness in his expression. Instead, there was only warmth, and something deeper I wasn't ready to name.

"Are you alright?" he asked, gently pushing a strand of hair from my face.

I nodded, not quite trusting my voice. My limbs felt heavy and languid, as if the tension of months had suddenly drained away.

With careful movements, Kazrek began to set my clothing back in order—pulling my skirts down, lacing my bodice with deft fingers. The act was strangely intimate, more tender than what had come before. He wasn't pawing or possessing; he was taking care of me, just as he'd promised.

When he finished, his hands came to rest on my thighs, warm through the fabric of my skirt. "You're not alone," he said. "Not with Maeve. Not with any of it."

The words hit me with unexpected force. I'd spent so long convincing myself that being alone was safer—that depending on someone else was a weakness I couldn't afford. But the man before me, with his steady hands and unwavering gaze, made me want to believe otherwise.

My eyes drifted to the cracked pendant still lying on the workbench, and reality rushed back in. The threat was still out there. Maeve was still at risk. The afterglow of pleasure receded, replaced by the familiar weight of worry.

But this time, it felt different. More manageable, somehow.

"We need answers," Kazrek said, following my gaze to the pendant. "Real ones. Not just theories."

I nodded, my mind already turning toward possibilities. "The Archives, maybe."

Kazrek considered this, nodding slowly. "First thing tomorrow, then."

"Tomorrow," I agreed, feeling oddly lighter despite the looming threat. Perhaps because, for the first time in years, I wasn't facing it completely alone.

He stood, offering his hand to help me down from the bench. I took it, steadying myself as my still-shaky legs readjusted to standing. His thumb brushed across my knuckles, the gesture almost absently affectionate.

"Thank you," I said quietly, the words inadequate but sincere.

His eyebrows lifted slightly. "For...?"

I gestured vaguely, heat rising to my cheeks. "For being..." I struggled to find the right word. Gentle seemed wrong for a man his size. Patient was true but insufficient. "Steady," I finally decided. "For being steady when I couldn't be."

The corner of his mouth quirked up, a rare half-smile that transformed his face. "Always," he said simply.

And in that moment, standing in the lamplight with his promise hanging between us, I almost believed him.

Chapter 16

TheEverwoodArchivessmelledof dust and aging parchment—a familiar comfort as I traced my fingers along worn leather spines. Afternoon light filtered through high windows, catching dust motes that danced in golden shafts between the towering shelves. It reminded me, oddly, of Kazrek's eyes in a certain light, and I felt my cheeks warm at the unbidden thought.

While nothing had fundamentally changed between us, everything felt... different. Softer around the edges. The way he looked at me across the shop when he brought lunch, the brush of his fingers against mine when passing herbs or ink pots—it was all careful, deliberate. It was as if he was making sure I knew he remembered, but I wouldn't push for more until I was ready.

I shook my head, forcing my attention back to the books. We were here for answers, not whatever this ridiculous flutter in my chest was.

"You're smiling," Kazrek's voice rumbled from behind me, low enough not to disturb the hushed atmosphere. "Found something useful?"

I quickly schooled my expression. "Not yet. Just... remembering something."

His quiet hum told me he knew exactly what I was remembering, but he didn't comment.

We wandered deeper into the Archives, the narrow stone corridors growing quieter with each turn. Kazrek walked beside me with his usual steadiness, one finger trailing absently along the worn spines of the old tomes.

I paused near a shelf labeledLinguistic Traditions of the Eastern Tribesand tilted my head. The lettering was elaborate, older than most of the others.

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