Page 9 of Claimed By the Wild Orc
The firelight caught on the faint bruise at her temple where she’d hit the ground earlier, and something like anger twisted in me. Not at her, but at the wolves, at the storm, at the whole damned world that would chew up a creature like her and spit out nothing but bones.
I could fix that.
I rose quietly, careful not to wake her. My blanket—rough, worn, still smelling faintly of rain and leather—lay folded near my pack. I picked it up and draped it over her shoulders, slow and deliberate, as though she were made of glass.
She stirred, mumbling something, but didn’t wake. The blanket slipped over her curves, pooling at her waist, and I found myself staring again, my jaw clenched tight.
She looked better this way. Not like a warrior, not like someone pretending to be unafraid, but like herself. Small, warm, alive.
I straightened, turning back to the fire.
Maybe I’d keep her—reallykeep her. Not as a prize, not as some debt-bound possession, but simply because I didn’t like the thought of her being out there, in the dark, where things with teeth waited.
The thought startled me, but I didn’t shake it off.
Instead, I sat back down, blade resting across my knees, and let the fire burn low while I kept watch over the girl who was, for now, mine.
MIRA
When I woke, the fire was low but still alive, glowing embers lighting the cave in dull red. My body was warm—too warm. A weight rested on my shoulders, soft and heavy.
I blinked down.
A blanket. Not mine.His.
The scent of him rose up immediately, earthy and sharp, like the wild places beyond the keep. My chest tightened. He wasn’t anywhere near me, though; his shadow was gone from the fire.
I sat up slowly, the blanket clutched tight, as if holding on to it would tell me something I couldn’t admit. Surprise coursed through me. He had covered me while I slept, without words, without noise.
Just a quiet gesture I didn’t understand.
The warmth of the furs seeped into my skin, and I was shocked at how safe I felt in that moment.
I’d never felt so safe in all my life.
MIRA
Morning came soft and golden, the kind of morning that almost made me forget I’d woken up in a cave with an orc. The storm had passed, leaving the world scrubbed clean, the leaves and stones glistening with raindrops. When I stepped outside, the forest seemed to breathe. A mist clung to the mossy ground, and the stream below gleamed like liquid glass, winding through a bed of smooth stones. Sunlight spilled between the trees in wide, dappled shafts.
It was beautiful. Wild, but beautiful.
And I was filthy.
If this orc thought he would keep me, then he could at least offer me the most basic of comforts.
“Take me to the stream,” I said, my arms crossed like I’d win this argument by sheer force of stubbornness. “I need to wash.”
Gorran appeared beside me, moving silently in spite of his size. I tried my best not to be breathless, not to have butterflies fluttering in my stomach.
Upon receiving my request, he didn’t even blink. He just tilted his head slightly, as if weighing whether my desires were worth humoring.
“Fine,” he said at last, rising to his full, ridiculous height. “But you don’t leave my sight.”
“Fine,” I shot back. “But you don’t look.”
One of his tusks caught the light as he smirked—actuallysmirked—but he turned away and walked ahead, leading me down the narrow path to the stream.
This was… not as unpleasant as I’d thought it would be.
