The orc hunter returns to the hut and immediately scowls at the pot of stew bubbling on the stove. Then he faces me, eyes narrowed in irritation.

“You did not rest,” he growls.

“I did,” I counter, reminding myself that I’d decided to try to cool my temper. “I sat on the bed while I chopped the carrots and the turnips, then took a nap while the stew cooked.”

His shoulders lower a notch, the frown line between his eyebrows smoothing out. “You did?”

“Yes,” I reply. “I also refrained from going outside for more snow for water, so you will have to take care of that.”

He immediately grabs the second pot and returns moments later with it packed with snow.

“I set some rabbit traps. I’ll check them tomorrow.” Walking over to the stove, he takes an appreciative sniff. “Did you add dried meat?”

“Yes.” I chew my lip, wondering how to broach the subject. “But only a little, for the taste. There…wasn’t much left.”

He quirks one dark eyebrow. “I told you, we will have rabbit tomorrow. And when the snow stops, I can track deer or partridge…”

“All right,” I say, “but the vegetables are also running out.”

He stares at me as if he’s confused why I’m bringing this up.

“Humans can’t survive on meat alone,” I explain. “Not for long. No matter how good of a hunter you are, I’ll soon need something else to eat.”

He sinks on the wooden stool in front of me. “Ah.”

Something in his pained expression has me smiling at him. “You didn’t think of that? Did you want to keep me here all winter?”

He sends me an unamused look. “Is that so wrong?”

I open my mouth for a smart reply, then close it again. Did he really want to spend the entire winter here with me? Alone?

From the way his cheeks darken to a deeper green, I suspect that’s exactly what he wanted. A flush spreads from my chest to my neck and face. No one has ever expressed a desire to spend that much time with me. I suspect Korr wants to do more than just sit next to me quietly, even if he’s too polite to say it.

“Fine.” Korr leans back before I have time to answer him. “We will leave for the Hill tomorrow if the weather clears.”

I blink. “So soon?”

I want to take the words back immediately. I should want to leave here, not stay with an orc who is convinced I am his mate. But I know this. I know the hut and trust Korr not to hurt me, while the world outside is vast and unpredictable. Gods only know what will happen when we arrive at the Hill. The orc king—we’ve all heard of him, even in my backwater village—might decide to turn me away. Another mouth to feed over the long, brutal winter is a nuisance, and I won’t be able to earn my keep until springtime, when fresh herbs and healing ingredients will be available again.

But Korr is already walking around the room, collecting items to pack in his large leather pack, everything from the sewing kit to the spare socks from the chest. When the stew is cooked, he ladles it into a bowl for me and brings it to bed. He sits on the stool opposite me again and regards me for a long while.

“Don’t worry, little witch,” he says. “You will like the Hill.”

I clench my fingers tighter around the bowl and focus on the lumps of carrot floating in the broth. “But will the Hill like me?”

Korr brings his hand up and brushes his thumb lightly over my cheek. “They must. I am the king’s best hunter, and if anyone behaves badly to you, I will leave with you.”

My heart pangs with longing. I know he’s just saying this—he would be a fool to give up a favored position with the king—but no one has ever stood by me before. My father, heartbroken after my mother passed, drank himself into an early grave and was unwilling to fight for his life when a nasty cough burrowed into his lungs. My late husband found comfort in another woman’s arms when it became clear I would not give him an heir. People leave, it’s just the nature of things, and I have learned to live with it.

As the light of the day fades, the cabin becomes a cozy haven from the howling wind outside. I worry about the trek to the Hill, but Korr seems unconcerned. He describes the underground court to me, all the tunnels and the thermal baths, which do sound rather lovely, especially after needing to wash with snowmelt water. He helps me redress my wounds and tells me the one on my head is healing nicely, then smears more of the soothing ointment on it before wrapping it again.

It’s still very early, though, when Korr hides a yawn behind his large palm and declares it’s time for bed. I blink, surprised, but he escorts me outside to the privy, then leads me back into the warm cabin. He puts on enough wood for the night and blows out the candle, plunging the small space into darkness. I feel my way toward the bed and sit heavily on it, then scramble for the far end, making room for Korr.

He sits on the edge next to me and pauses. “Would it bother you if I went without a shirt tonight? Mine is still damp, and this jacket is not exactly comfortable…”

He trails off, not finishing the sentence, but he doesn’t have to. He lent his spare shirt to me, and we tore up another for bandages, so he has nothing else to wear to bed.

I’m suddenly glad for the darkness, because it hides my flush. “Of course.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “That’s not—I mean, go ahead.”

Korr’s low laugh is only a huff, but it has my senses prickling.

“What’s so funny?” I demand.

“You, little witch,” he says. “You didn’t seem to mind my body when you rolled over to my side of the bed last night.”

I gasp, embarrassment washing through me. “You knew?” I reach out and swat his shoulder, then pull my hand back because I hit warm, naked skin. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You were so outraged when you woke up.” He lowers himself to lie next to me. “I thought it best to keep my trap shut.”

“Clever orc,” I mutter.

He laughs, the sound booming in the small room. I snuggle down in the covers, but my feet are still cold from the short trek to the privy, so I curl my knees up to rub my toes. The movement pulls at my bruised muscles, and I hiss softly.

“Is it your injuries?” Korr asks.

I want to lie and deny it, but what would the use of that be?

“Yes,” I admit. “And my feet are freezing. I just need a while to warm up.”

The orc moves so swiftly, I don’t realize what’s happening until I’m snuggled up against his side, my palm pressed to the middle of his broad chest.

“Hey!” I rear back. “How did you—?”

“You need warmth,” he barks, tightening his arm around me. “I am warm.”

“Korr!” I wiggle to get away from him, away from the addictive heat wafting from his body.

“Ivy,” he replies in the same chiding tone.

That’s what finally stops me. I’m being missish and unreasonable. He’s not trying to ravish me, only help me. With a huff of breath, I settle next to him, my cheek tucked close to his shoulder. His scent is even stronger now, as if his skin is giving off the exact essence that’s been designed to bring me to my knees. I breathe through my mouth for a moment to clear my mind, then take a tiny whiff through my nose. It’s incredible. I’ve seen him wash with a bar of hard soap, but it smelled of chamomile and rosemary, not this intoxicating blend of campfires, leather, and thyme.

Korr puts his nose at my temple and takes a deep inhale. His breath ruffles the fine hairs on my cheek, but it’s his reaction that surprises me the most. He shudders, his muscles locking up tight around me. He’s not hurting me or trying to squeeze me closer, it’s just that he seems on edge instead of relaxing down to sleep.

“What’s wrong?” I whisper.

Korr lets out a low groan, then unclenches his arms. He remains stiff beside me, though, and I can tell he’s staring straight at the ceiling, his brows furrowed in a deep frown.

“This is harder than I thought it would be,” he admits finally.

I lift on my elbow, even though I can barely see him in the gloom. “What is?”

He turns on his side to face me. “Having a mate who isn’t an orc and doesn’t know about how it works.”

“I’m so—” I start to say, but he puts his palm over my mouth to stop me.

“Don’t apologize,” he says. He moves his hand away, dropping it to the covers between us. “Of course you can’t know.” His white teeth flash in the darkness as he smiles. “And you are handling it much better than Vark’s mate.”

I replace myself smiling back at him. “What happened?”

“She tried to stab him,” he confides. “Multiple times.”

I giggle. “Good for her.”

Korr nudges me. “You won’t try to stab me, will you?”

“I hope not,” I say, sobering up. “So far, you haven’t given me any reason to.”

He rolls onto his back. “Aye, I’ll try to do better than him.”

“What did he do?” I pry, eager for gossip. “Did he deserve it?”

Korr shrugs. “Perhaps. He only told Hazel that she was his.” He turns his head to me and adds, “He forgot to mention that he was hers as well.”

A silence descends between us. I’m fairly certain I don’t want to belong to anybody, least of all an orc I only just met, and I don’t want to claim him either. But his words are solemn, and I know instinctively that it would be a grave error if I rejected this idea outright.

“W-what does that mean?” I whisper. “The mate thing?”

Korr lets out a long sigh. “I wish I could show you. But it feels like…” He pauses, then lets out a frustrated groan. “I am no poet, little witch. If you want pretty words, you will be disappointed with me. I only know I will never want a woman like I want you.”

Heat rushes through me, pulsing in my veins and finally settling low in my belly. He says it with such sincerity, with so much emotion, it moves something inside my chest. It’s deceptive and dangerous, and I know I cannot trust it. But curiosity prompts me to delve deeper.

“So it’s about—about fucking?” I ask, being deliberately crude. “Because you’ve never been with another?”

Korr lets out a rich, booming laugh. “Aye. That is a part of it, I’ll admit. I feel like a beast because you’re injured, and I promise I won’t touch you, but my cock has been harder than iron these past two days.”

I squeak and bury my face in the pillows. However crude my words were, Korr talks about his body without any qualms, and it’s so different from what I’ve known so far. I don’t know how to react to it, but his confession ignites a glow in my core.

He prods my shoulder gently. “Hey, now, I’m sorry. I meant to say that’s only a part of it. I just knew, the moment I saw you and then scented you, that you were the one for me. For whatever reason, the fates have determined that we’re an ideal match.”

I peer up at him, wishing I could see his face more clearly. Gods, the way he speaks… I want to believe him so badly, but I’ve had a man in my life before who made me promises of loyalty, and that didn’t end up how I’d thought it would.

“I have to tell you something,” I whisper.

Korr goes still beside me. “What is it?”

I swallow the uncomfortable emotions swelling in my throat. “I was married,” I force out. “Once before.”

The orc is silent for a moment, then asks, “What happened?”

“He died,” I reply. “He cut his leg open climbing out his mistress’ window and didn’t dare tell me. By the time I discovered the wound, it had turned rotten, and the blood poisoning took him.”

Korr pushes himself up on one elbow. “He was unfaithful to you?” Anger radiates from him in waves, and his voice turns growling.

“Y-yes?” I stammer. “We weren’t a love match.”

As if that made the humiliation of discovering what he’d been doing any easier to bear. Everyone in his family knew, too, only I’d been working too hard to notice.

Even in the darkness, I feel Korr’s close scrutiny. “Then why did you marry?”

That’s the question I’ve been asking myself for over two years now.

“I thought it would give me security,” I admit. “I’d inherited my parents’ house, but in the human world, a woman owning property isn’t that common.”

He nods but doesn’t say anything, and somehow, that makes it easier to continue.

“I think I was afraid.” I rub my palm over my face, then remember I shouldn’t scratch the covered wound. “In our village, there weren’t many, uh, eligible men the right age. Patrick was the fourth son in his family, so he knew he wouldn’t inherit anything. He was nice enough, so we made a deal.”

Korr gently brushes my hair away from my face. His warm fingers rest on my cheek for a moment, then he removes them, and I try not to mourn the loss of contact.

“I wish you didn’t need to make that compromise,” he says quietly. “And I’m sorry you lost so much.”

My throat clogs with emotion. He’s the first to express sympathy besides my friend, Jasmine. Everyone else in the village whispered how I must have cursed Patrick’s wound to fester because he’d betrayed me. It was only one rumor among many that circulated around the community, and I hadn’t paid it any mind at the time. I’d been too busy worrying about burying Patrick with all the dignity I could muster while his mistress shot daggers at me from across the street every time I saw her.

The year since his death has been hard, in more ways than one. I never imagined it would end up with me being tied to a tree, though. I’d thought the people would forget about it all eventually, yet the gossip kept snowballing. But I didn’t confide in Korr to dwell on the small-minded people who had to blame someone else for their problems.

“I wanted to say something else,” I murmur.

Korr moves his legs to tangle with mine, giving me even more warmth. “I’m listening.”

“I’m not—I’m not a virgin,” I admit finally. “I mean, I thought I should mention it since you said you were, and I don’t know if that changes anything for you. I just didn’t think…”

I trail off as Korr’s hand replaces my hip, drawing slow circles over the thin barrier of his tunic.

“I don’t mind,” the orc says. “Then at least one of us will know what to do.”

I laugh, startled at his response. “Wait, you don’t know…?”

“I’m only teasing, little witch,” he retorts, his deep voice warm. “I’ve been dreaming for years about how I’ll finally get to sink my cock into my mate’s pussy. I don’t mind waiting a while longer now that I’ve found you.”

He leans in and nuzzles his cheek against mine. His stubble scratches over my skin, sending shivers of sensation all over my body. I don’t even have it in me to be scandalized by his words, because I’m too busy feeling everything he’s doing to me. The way his thick thigh pushes between mine. The firm grip of his fingers on my side, anchoring me in place. The scent wafting from his bare skin, so close to me.

Korr lets out a low hum, then retreats, clearing his throat. “All right, I’ll be quick. Put on another log while I’m outside, would you?”

He rolls to his feet, and I sit up, confused. “Where are you going?”

Korr’s form is nothing but a dark shape as he looms over the bed. “We’ll both be uncomfortable with my cock sticking up between us all night. Don’t fret, Ivy. I’ll take care of it and return.”

I think of the bitter wind shaking the walls of the hut, of the ice crusting the wooden platform outside, and blurt out, “You don’t have to.”

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