Her Orc Protector: A Monster Fantasy Romance (Black Bear Clan Book 4)
Her Orc Protector: Chapter 2

My heart skips at the deep voice. Praise the gods, I’ve been saved.

I crane my neck as much as possible to see the woodsman—or hunter, or whoever he is. Hopefully, I’ll get to call him savior.

“Yes,” I breathe, “please, I can’t move.”

The man steps to the side, and my first impression of him is that he doesn’t look much different from a bear, dressed up all in furs, a long winter cloak billowing in the growing wind.

Then I notice his face. It’s half covered with a woolen scarf, but the part that’s visible is…green.

I jerk back in my restraints, fear slamming into me. He’s an orc.

My luck has truly run out now. It might have been better to be eaten by wolves or bears.

He reaches for his weapons belt with one gloved hand and pulls out a wicked-looking knife, the blade sharp and clean.

I cringe away from him. “Please, no, just leave me alone.”

He frowns at me, his dark eyebrows furrowing. “Stop squirming, woman.”

One slash of his knife, and the rope loosens, then falls to the ground. The wolves howl again, closer than before, and the orc glances to the side, his scowl deepening.

“We need to hurry,” he says.

With a rough grip, he takes my wrists and slashes the rope looped around them. My skin is chafed and raw underneath, and he curses softly at the sight of it. Then he takes hold of my shoulders and leans in.

I close my eyes in terror. If he means to maul me, there’s nothing I can do. He’s a foot taller than me and much wider, and I have no more strength to fight. I’d used it all up trying to escape the villagers.

But all the orc does is put his nose to my temple and inhale. His breath tickles my neck, and a shiver runs through me. Unlike the men who dragged me here, he smells…not unpleasant. I get a whiff of leather and thyme, with a hint of something I can’t pinpoint exactly. It has me leaning forward before I can think better of it, and I sway on my feet, losing my balance.

The orc supports my shoulders, and his rough-hewn face scrunches in a frown. “Can you walk?”

I blink slowly, trying to process the words. “Walk?”

He peers down at my feet and bites out another curse. “I will hunt down those peasants and skin them alive for doing this to you.”

That has me perking up. “Yes. That would serve them right. They went that way.” I raise my aching arm to point toward the village. I think it’s in that direction anyway. I can’t be sure, though the orc will replace them, I’d wager. “But you’ll have to hurry, or the wolves will get them first.”

I don’t know if the wolves will pick up their scent or mine—maybe the animals will realize that two humans are better than one. But I do need to get moving just in case. I know there’s another village near the border with the orc kingdom, though I’m not entirely certain where. I’ve never been there, but if I can make it there before sundown, I might have a chance of surviving this. Even if I’ll surely lose most of my toes.

I’ll have to act fast, cut them off before the rot sets in.

“Thank you for rescuing me,” I murmur, pushing away from the orc’s broad chest. “That was nice of you.”

The orc snorts, his frown easing. “Come on, then.”

I step away from him and stub my toe on something hard under the snow. I hiss in pain, though I’m glad to be feeling it, now that I might even make it. Pain is good. Pain means I’m still alive.

“You need to leave,” I urge the orc. I squint at the sky to make sure where I need to go, then face the male who saved me. “I have nothing to give you in return for saving me, but I can tell you that you should steer clear of the village we came from. A bunch of inbred asses, they are. I know that’s not the same as rescuing me from certain death, but if we ever meet again, I’ll make sure to square away our debt.”

He’s staring at me as if I’ve grown another head. “What are you talking about?”

I click my tongue impatiently. “You need to leave. The wolves will be on us soon.” I take the first step in the direction of the other village. I think. “I hope to see you again one day.”

With that, I give him an awkward little wave, turn my back on him, and start walking. I warned him. Twice. If he won’t take my advice and get out of here, that’s on him. Though maybe he wants to fight the beasts. Maybe that’s an orc thing? I can’t help him with that, though, so I need to put as much distance between myself and the wolf pack as possible.

I barely take three hobbling steps when a strong arm wraps around my waist and pulls me to a halt. I squeak and flail indignantly. I hadn’t even heard the orc move, and now he’s swinging me up in his arms, crushing me against his muscular chest.

“What are you doing?” I cry. “Put me down!”

“You need to be quiet now,” he murmurs. “Else they’ll hear us faster.”

And he takes off into the trees, his long legs eating the distance.

“Release me,” I hiss through gritted teeth. I strain to break his grip on me, but he’s strong, his arms like iron bands around my body. “Please, I don’t want this.”

He scowls down at me. “Do you want to live?”

“Yes?” I say, and I hate that it sounds like a question. “Please, don’t kill me.”

“Gods, woman.” He focuses back on the trail—or lack of it—ahead of us. “I am trying to rescue you. So be quiet and let me save my breath for running. The wolves are near.”

That shuts me up, fast. Stealing looks over his fur-clad shoulders, I try to tamp down on my panic, but it rises in my chest, squeezing and expanding at the same time, until it’s all I can think of, all I can feel. I’ve been taken by an orc, but like he implied, that’s not the worst of my problems right now.

“Are they after us?” I breathe. “They didn’t follow the villagers?”

The orc shakes his head once. His hearing must be better than mine, or perhaps he simply knows more about how wolves hunt. But he’s putting his life on the line for me, and I can’t have that kind of debt hanging over my head.

“Put me down,” I order.

“Will you stop,” he growls, his chest reverberating with the words. “I will not put you down. I’m faster carrying you than you could ever be on foot.”

I don’t doubt that, but that’s not why I asked. “You need to leave me behind,” I command. “I thank you again for saving me, but if they catch up to us, they’ll kill us both. If you leave me, at least one of us will survive.”

His fingers tighten on my hip, the warmth of his large palm seeping through my snow-crusted clothes. “I will not leave you.”

The words are said with such finality, I cannot argue further. He’s gone cold now, his expression flat, as if I suggested something atrocious, and no matter how hard I stare at him, trying to bend him to my will, he doesn’t budge. He only runs faster, his breath puffing out in a measured rhythm. Whoever he is, he is used to running like this, and carrying a burden like me doesn’t seem to present any effort to him.

I can’t tell why he’s so determined to save me either. Surely his sense of self-preservation is stronger than his chivalry?

A howl sounds to our right, and I whip my head around to stare into the gloomy shadows under the fir trees. I can’t be certain, as it might be my eyes playing tricks on me, but I see a pale-gray shadow dart from behind a thick trunk, disappearing again a second later. A shiver runs through me, and I instinctively lean into the orc’s warmth.

“How can I make it easier?” I whisper. “Can I grab hold of you somehow?”

He peers down at me, and though half his face is still hidden behind his scarf, I sense his approval. Wordlessly, he has me shift in his arms. I plaster my body to his and wrap my legs around his waist, then loop my arms around his neck. The pack on his back gets in the way, but I wiggle around it, grabbing the straps on his shoulders. He still supports me, but he can run faster this way, and we clear another hundred steps before I spot the wolf running full tilt behind us.

“They’re here.”

The words tumble out on a strangled gasp, but the orc doesn’t stop. Instead, he puts on another burst of speed and clutches me tighter to his chest. I don’t know if a lone wolf will attack—not until it has the support of his pack mates. So if this one is the vanguard, it might wait a while before trying to pull us down, especially given how large the orc is. I can only hope the animal recognizes another predator in the orc, a creature born for warfare.

It’s then that I realize I have no idea what we’re running toward. I don’t know of any settlements in this part of the woods. I think even my self-absorbed neighbors would take note if an orc village popped up in the forest not ten miles from their homes. They would complain, and loudly.

I press my lips to where the orc’s ear is hidden beneath his fur hat. “Where are you taking us?”

He slips his hands under my ass and hitches me higher on his body. If he wasn’t currently saving my life, I’d slap him for it, but this is no time for propriety.

“We’re close,” is all he says, though.

Another wolf joins the first, loping several yards to the left. I search the forest for more lithe shapes, and sure enough, there are two more in the shade.

“They’re trying to surround us,” I whisper, fear tightening my throat. “If they cut us off…”

“If it comes to it,” the orc rasps in my ear, “I have a bow. But I don’t know how large the pack is.”

I hadn’t even noticed the bow sticking from the bundle on his back until now, which means it’s likely meant for hunting small game as he travels, not a longbow designed to take down beasts like the ones following us, especially not at a great distance. He’d have to let the wolves come close, and while he was busy shooting one full of arrows, another could attack. That’s what makes wolves such incredible predators—they hunt together, wearing down their prey, then taking it down as a pack.

Suddenly, the orc stops at the trunk of a large tree. He plucks me away from his body and sets me on my feet, and it’s a move so unexpected, I stumble and fall into a snowdrift.

“Get up,” he snarls at me.

Then he crouches and jumps in the air, smacking something out from between the tree branches.

A thick rope dangles in front of us, knotted at intervals to help with climbing. The orc pushes it into my hands. “Climb, woman.”

I close my numbed hands around the cold, damp rope and follow the line of it up. And up. Right to a wooden platform built between the trees.

There’s a shelter hidden in the canopies.

We’re saved.

“Climb!” the orc shouts at me.

I cringe away from him. I’d leached some body warmth from him as he’d carried me, but my thoughts are still sluggish, my muscles cramping from having to hang on to him. He curses and gives me a boost, lifting me in his arms so I can grasp the rope higher, but all that does is leave me hanging three feet off the ground like a particularly shabby, beat-up piece of fruit.

“I can’t,” I whimper, and to my horror, tears leak from my eyes, stinging as they run down my chapped cheeks. “I can’t climb.”

The orc stares at me for a long moment. Then he tugs me away from the rope and sets me on the ground again. Without a word, he takes the rope and scales it deftly, as if this is no effort at all.

I sink to the snowy forest floor, my half-frozen skirts stiff around me. He’s decided to do the sensible thing after all. He knows he can’t save us both, so he has saved himself.

I don’t even begrudge him the decision, even though I’m sad it’s come to this. He gave me hope for a little while, hope that we might both survive the wolf attack. I think I would have liked it better if he’d just left me there, tied to the tree. To be given hope, then lose it, is worse than not having it at all.

The wolves are closing in. The first of the pack steps from between the trees, and behind him, two more. I know there are others in the forest surrounding me, likely making sure I can’t escape past them. They’re no longer running now, their steps cautious and measured. Their red tongues hang from their mouths, and the fact that I can see this tells me my time is near.

“What are you doing?” the orc shouts at me from above. “Get to the fucking rope and hold on!”

I look up. He’s staring at me from above, standing on that wooden platform. He seems so far away. And I’m so very tired.

Something whistles past me, and an arrow hits the closest wolf, not the leader of the pack but another that came too close to me, sniffing tentatively. The beast goes down without a sound, toppling over, and all the others snarl, pause, then retreat.

“Come on!” The orc’s voice booms through the forest. “You must get up.”

He shoots another wolf, felling the animal with a single arrow.

A sob works its way out of my throat. I push myself to my hands and knees and crawl through the snowdrifts. Just from sitting on the ground for a minute—or was it longer?—I’ve accumulated a thin layer of snow on my clothes, my hair. But I make it to the rope. It hangs a foot or so off the ground, so I raise myself on my knees to grasp it.

The moment my hands are locked around the rough rope, the orc sets down his bow and quiver and grasps the rope from above.

“Hold on,” he commands.

Then he pulls me up. One moment, I’m kneeling on the ground, and the next, I’m dangling mid-air, my feet swaying dangerously. Another tug, and snowy fir branches drag across my front, and I nearly let go. Every move wrenches my arms, and my abused hands scream with agony, but I hold on, because letting go would mean dying, and I don’t want to do that. Not yet.

The wolves below surge in, suddenly realizing that their prey is about to be taken from them. I shriek as sharp teeth close in the air mere inches from my ankles, and try to curl my legs up, out of their reach. I swing to the side, my back clipping the trunk of the fir tree, and the orc above curses loudly, then hauls me higher.

I’m whimpering so much now, from pain and from fear, from the hope that somehow I’ll make it through this, that I don’t realize I’m already at the platform until he grasps me by the collar of my dress and yanks me up like a sack of grain. Feeling the rough boards beneath me, I scramble for safety, away from the edge, and collapse facedown, unable to move.

The orc pulls up the rest of the rope and loops it around a branch, then picks me up by hooking his hands under my arms. He’s surprisingly gentle now, no longer shouting at me, and I lean into him instinctively, my body craving warmth.

“You’re safe now,” he murmurs.

He presses his lips to my hair, which is such a familiar gesture. Then he wraps me in his arms, curling his large body around mine. I haven’t been hugged in so long, I’d nearly forgotten what it feels like, but my muscles haven’t—I put my hands on the orc’s back, under his heavy coat, and hold on, my face squished to his chest.

It’s a good embrace. A long, warm one, born of the relief that we’re alive and the basic human need for touch. My eyes water again, so I scrunch up my face and tilt my head down so he doesn’t see it. I don’t want him to see me sniveling all over him now that he has saved my life.

That thought brings me back to myself.

“Thank you.” I push myself away from him to look him in the eyes. “Thank you for pulling me up. For carrying me here. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”

He stares at me for a long moment, studying my face. I do the same to him, noting the differences between us—his skin is green, his eyes a deep, earthy brown. I wonder if he replaces my freckles and gray eyes just as interesting.

Then he lets out a long exhale. “It’s all right. There’s nothing to repay. I’m only glad I found you in time.”

I frown at him, because that’s an odd thing to say—it almost sounds as if he’s been searching for me. But that can’t be true. He’s likely just polite, incongruous as that might seem. An orc with more manners than any human I’ve ever met.

“Come on,” he says before I can protest. “Let’s get inside.”