Page 16 of Claimed By the Wild Orc
Confusion.
Wanting andnotwanting.
What was I doing here? What washedoing? Orcs didn’t save humans. They didn’t haul them from the teeth of wolves or let them cook stew by their fire. And they certainly didn’t cover them with blankets when they slept.
I chewed on my lip, staring at the cave wall, thinking about the way his hands had felt when he pinned me earlier. Not cruel. Just… immovable. The memory made something knot deep in my stomach.
I don’t know how long I sat there before I heard the sound. Heavy footsteps. Slower than usual.
I stood quickly, and he appeared in the mouth of the cave.
My breath caught.
Blood streaked down his arm, soaking the leather strap across his chest. His dark hair clung wetly to his forehead, and his torso looked like something had torn through it. Those deep scratches weren’t from a blade, but from claws. Fromteeth.
I didn’t need to ask what he’d fought. I knew.
“You idiot,” I breathed, the word escaping before I could stop it.
He gave a low grunt, stepping inside, his weight shifting like every movement cost him. His arm was a mess—ripped open along the bicep, blood running down to his hand.
“You fought the rest of the pack,” I said, not a question.
His lips curved faintly, and I hated that the sight made my heart twist. “They followed. I dealt with them. What else was I supposed to do? Let them take us? Now you understand why you can’t escape. There are other wolves out there… and beasts you can’t even imagine.”
I sighed, wondering if it was better to stick with the monster that all the other monsters were afraid of.
The extent of his bleeding struck me all of a sudden. There was alotof blood.
What if he...?
Even orcs weren’t invincible.
“You’re bleeding everywhere,you absolute ox.” I scrambled to the shelf, grabbing cloth and a water flask. “Sit. Now.”
He didn’t move.
“Sit before you fall over,” I snapped, my voice sharper than I intended.
That grin—that infuriating, bloodied grin—spread a fraction wider. “You’re worried.”
“Worried? No. Just don’t want to be stuck with your corpse.” I knelt in front of him, tearing the cloth with shaking hands.
“You’re too stupid to die, aren’t you?” I muttered, pressing the wet rag to the gash on his arm. He hissed but didn’t pull away.
“Probably,” he said, teeth flashing. “You’d miss me.”
I froze for half a second, heat rushing up my neck. “Not a chance.”
“Liar,” he murmured.
I focused on cleaning the blood, my hands trembling slightly. He watched me, silent now, and it made my skin prickle. When I reached for another cloth, our fingers brushed: light, unplanned, but enough to make my breath catch.
His eyes locked on mine. He noticed.
“Hold still,” I muttered, trying to ignore the way my pulse thundered.
When I finished binding his arm, I sat back on my heels, suddenly too aware of how close we were. He reached up, slow, deliberate, his calloused fingers brushing my jaw.
