Page 6 of Charmed By the Orc
As his story rolled on, the cadence of his voice rising and falling, lulled me to sleep. Before I drifted off, my name on his lips was the last word I heard.
4
Guruk
“Sammy,”I said, awe turning her name into a solemn vow. I didn’t know to who—or what—I was promising, but I couldn’t deny the sincerity in it. The little human had fallen into my life; according to the skul-gargoyle, literally appearing from thin air. And although I knew almost nothing about her, she had somehow captured my world in her small hands. Was this what the orc elders called afate bond?
Before I could ponder the likelihood of an orc forming such a connection with another species, Sammy began to talk in her sleep again.
“Mako, where are you?” She twisted and turned beside me. She’d been calling for different names as the hours had ticked by and the storm passed. I’d drifted in and out, but the need to watch over the tiny human was palpable. At present, she cried, “Abby? Robin?”
My hand drifted to her cheek of its own accord. The green hue of my skin contrasted starkly against her rich tan coloring. “I’m here, little one.”
Her eyes opened at last, clear of pain, and treating me to the lovely warmth in their brown depths. She blinked once, twice. Then, she reached toward me, pinching the skin of my forearm between her thumb and forefinger. The pressure she exerted was minimal, but she squeaked, “Youarereal!”
I chuckled at her exclamation.
Sammy frowned. Faster than I’d imagine for a human, she rolled from the bed. Her hip knocked the nightstand, then she backed into the curtains, nearly pulling them down atop her. “What the—?” She swatted at the offending fabric, serving only to tangle herself beneath it.
The barking laugh that rolled forth and had me doubled over. My chest ached from the depths of my mirth. I’d never seen a more hilarious sight than this tiny human twisting her delicate frame into knots beneath my grandmother’s ruby curtains.
“Hey, don’t just stand there, you goober!” She punched at the fabric, making bumps in it with her fists. “Help me out of here.”
“Hold on.” While the scene was comical, I didn’t desire to have to explain to my grandmother why her hand-sewn antique curtains had tears in them. “Stop moving, I’ll get you free.”
“This is ridiculous.” Sammy humphed as her foot tangled further. “Is this part of a security system or something?”
I snorted. “Hardly.”
Circling around the bed, I grasped the top of the curtain—well clear of Sammy’s head—and yanked. The fabric loosened and freed its captive. She stumbled two steps, her body colliding into mine. I snaked my arm around her back to steady her. With her breasts planted against my abs and the top of her head at mycollarbone, I could smell her sweet scent—a mixture of jasmine and rose. I inhaled as if appreciating a fine ale.
“Are you…,” she whispered. Then, she cleared her throat and began again louder, “Are you purring?”
Was I? I slid my hand up her tunic to cup the back of her head. She shivered as my fingers trailed over her spine. With her face resting against my chest, I felt the vibrations too. By the ancestors, Iwaspurring. With that disorienting thought, I let her go and bumped against the side of the bed. All my senses tipped askew, my world tilting on its axis. And I went with it, falling flat on my back onto the mattress.
Sammy stood upright, her brown eyes going wide, before she raised a hand to her mouth and snickered. I glowered at her, and her soft giggles turned to full belly laughs. A mischievous glee sparkled in her eyes that set them firing like coals in the flames. I couldn’t restrain my smile when she pointed at me and said, “Serves you right for laughing at me earlier.”
I sat upright, my height still too great to put us at eye level. Scratching the back of my neck, I conceded, “Fair enough.”
“Yeah, well. We can call it even.” She stuck out her small hand as if waiting for something. “Now, let’s have an official introduction.”
I mirrored her movements, unsure of what she wanted me to do. “You wish a warrior’s clasp?” I asked, wondering if she wished to grasp forearms. It was an ancient custom, typically used amongst warriors to check each other for weapons while demonstrating mutual respect. I hadn’t seen it done in quite sometime, not since the villages made a pact and peace reigned over the realm.
“A warrior’s…,” she stared at our hands both hanging mid-air, “I was thinking a handshake, but that’ll work too.” Grinning, she grabbed my forearm with her slender fingers not reaching even halfway around my muscle. “Whoa,” she said as I matched her, wrapping my much larger hand around her delicate forearm. “That’s…”
“An honor to meet you, Sammy,” I filled in as she didn’t seem likely to finish her sentence. “Welcome to my home.”
“Oh, uh.” A soft pink hue rose to her cheeks. “Thank you. It’s nice to meet you too.”
“Are you feeling better?” I released her arm with reluctance, enjoying the feel of her beneath my hand.
“Much better. The pain is gone actually.” Touching her forehead, she tapped her fingers along the smooth surface as if testing for injury. “But I’m a little worried. It was weird.” She stretched her arms, emphasizing a great distance between her hands. “Like worst pain I’ve ever felt. Not normal, you know?”
“Do you think it had something to do with the storm?” I treaded carefully, recalling the deputy’s claim about her appearing from thin air. “Or something else?”
Popping a fist under her jaw and furrowing her brow, she said, “Maybe. The storm was definitely freaky.”
“Freaky?” I pondered what she could mean.