Page 17 of Claimed By the Wild Orc
I didn’t move.
His hand was warm, rough, the kind of touch that felt both dangerous and grounding all at once.
We stayed like that—no words, no movement—until I finally leaned back, heart pounding, trying to pretend my thoughts weren’t spiraling out of control.
Not yet. Whatever this was, I couldn’t let it happen. Not yet.
I wasn’t ready.
MIRA
Late afternoon in the forest was beautiful. Light spilled through the trees, turning the damp earth gold. My stomach growled as I sat near the cave mouth, watching Gorran test the edge of his newly sharpened knife. We hadn’t eaten since yesterday’s pitiful stew.
“You need to rest,” I said, nodding toward his arm. The bandages I’d tied were already stained with blood.
“I’m fine,” he replied, voice nonchalant.
“You’re bleeding.”
“It’s healing.” He looked up, and I noticed the gash along his bicep wasn’t as raw as it had been this morning. Orcs healed fast. Scarily fast.
He sheathed the knife and stood, casting a long shadow over me. “We need meat. You’re coming.”
“Excuse me?”
“I can’t leave you here. Not after the wolves.” He looked at me like that was the end of the discussion.
I crossed my arms. “I can stay here just fine. I’m not some child who needs?—”
“It’s too dangerous for you to stay here alone.” He turned and started toward the forest. “Don’t argue, Mira. Just come.”
I swore under my breath, snatched up the spare blanket, wrapped it around myself, and followed, trying to ignore the warm, fuzzy feeling that coursed through me when he’d said my name like that.
MIRA
He moved like the forest belonged to him. Silent, deadly, his body a map of scars and muscle. I trailed behind, watching the way he crouched low, how his shoulders tensed just before he threw the knife. All it took was one strike—clean and brutal—and the rabbit didn’t even have time to realize it was prey.
He caught another.
And then, another. I followed behind at a slight distance, and Gorran shushed me whenever I stepped on a stick or brushed against a thicket.
Half-amused, half-irritated. That was the feeling he gave off.
The hunt was much shorter than I’d anticipated.
“Let’s go.” Gorran carried the rabbits slung over one broad shoulder, as if I couldn’t possibly be trusted to handle them.
“I can carry those,” I said, jogging up beside him.
“No.”
“No?” I repeated, my voice sharp. “You’re injured. I’m not.”
“You don’t need to carry them.”
My irritation spiked. “Iwantto carry them. And I can skin them, too, you know. I’m not useless. Just because you’re… whatever you are doesn’t mean I’m helpless.”
He stopped walking and turned to face me, towering over me with that maddening calm. “You think I want you helpless?”
