SWNOVELS Her Orc Protector: Chapter 6
I search Korr’s face for any hint of what’s going on. “Your mate? What does that mean?”
He sighs and places my hand back on the bed, pats it, then draws back as if he needs to put physical distance between us.
“I didn’t want to tell you this way,” he says, voice hollow. “I wanted…” He stops himself and shakes his head, then stands and takes his unfinished breakfast to the chest. He sets the bowl on the wooden top, then picks up his jacket and coat. “I will get us some more firewood.”
But I surge to my feet, yelping as my injuries flare up. He’s at my side a moment later, holding me up by my arms. The heat of his skin permeates through the linen of the shirt I borrowed from him. I try not to let that distract me because I need answers.
“What does that mean?” I demand. “You cannot just say something like this, then not explain it.”
He stares down at me. “You are hurt,” he replies. “You’re not ready…”
“I want to know,” I insist, stopping just short of stamping my foot. I don’t want to look like a child, and besides, my toes still hurt.
Korr lets out a long sigh. Then he gently nudges me backward until I sink on the bed. He sits in front of me and takes my hands in his, then rubs his thumbs over my knuckles as if he can’t stop himself.
“Every orc is born with a mate,” he says softly. “The one person who is so perfect for them, the fates bring them together at some point in their lives.”
I stare at him. “And you think I’m her? I mean, your mate?”
He inclines his head. “I know you are. I knew the moment I scented you.”
I remember how he sniffed me yesterday, right after he’d untied me from the tree. I’d been terrified, but for him, that must have been a completely different kind of meeting.
“But…” I try to gather my thoughts. “I’m human.”
Korr’s lips twitch up in a smile. “Aye, I’ve noticed.”
I huff. “This isn’t funny. You expect us to just be together? We don’t even know each other.”
“Not yet,” he counters. He sits right there in front of me, shoulders straight, unwilling to back down. “The fates are never wrong.”
I pull my hands away from his grip and scoot away from him because I can’t think straight with his mouthwatering scent muddling my thoughts. “They are this time.”
He puts his elbows on his knees, regarding me closely. “Is it because I’m an orc?”
“What?” I push my hair back from my face, flustered. “No, that’s not—”
“Because several of my friends found human mates, and I haven’t heard even one of them complain,” Korr says, a touch of smugness entering his deep voice. “In fact, I can tell you that the humans are very appreciative of their mates’ big—”
“Yes, thank you!” I yelp, slamming my hands over my ears.
I don’t know why I’m so flustered all of a sudden. I’ve seen my share of human bodies while healing the villagers, both while my mother was still alive and later on my own. Orcs apparently have no issues with talking about their intimate business, so why should I be embarrassed?
Korr stands, smirking down at me. “You will see, everything will work out in the end. I really do need to get that firewood, little witch. I’ll be back soon. Rest up.”
He wraps himself against the cold and disappears out the door. I stay in his bed for a long while, trying to decide how I feel about his revelation. The fact is that I have nowhere to go. I can’t return to my old house because my fellow villagers would do a better job at trying to kill me this time around. I can’t walk anywhere either, not in this weather, and not from this unknown place.
What I want is a home where I could live in peace. The house I grew up in might be tiny, but was mine, damn it, and I shouldn’t have to give it up. It’s the place my parents lovingly built together, thinking they’d grow old there. Then there’s my collection of herbs and medicines, my chickens, and my temperamental goat. Not to mention the small stash of coin I’d squirreled away under my floorboards for rough times such as these, hiding them from my husband so he couldn’t squander them in the village tavern.
I’m not a bad catch, all things considered, and if it wasn’t for the witchy rumors and the fact that the entire village thought I killed my husband out of jealousy, I might have been able to marry well in a couple of years.
Now, that fate has been dashed by small minds and a bad harvest they blamed on me. And I’m hiding from the world in the hut of an orc who is convinced I’m the one woman he’s meant to spend his life with.
It’s a lot to take in, especially in such a short time. My only option for now is sticking with Korr and seeing what his plans are for me. He hasn’t tried to force himself on me. I’ve come to trust him enough that I know he won’t—not until I’m well anyway. I need him to take me somewhere. Probably home to this Hill he mentioned, which must be the orc village where he’s from. There, I might find someone willing to take me back to human lands.
I could travel to the capital and make an appeal in front of the Duke of Ultrup. He might be able to help me get my property back—if I managed to gain an audience with him. That’s unlikely, though. The duke probably doesn’t bother with the likes of me, and going to the city blind without any funds would be the height of folly.
Also, a strange spike of worry shoots through my body at the thought of leaving Korr. It’s similar to the feeling I got when my thatched roof sprung a leak and I had to climb to the top to tie new straw bundles over the old. I’d peered over the edge of the roof, and my stomach had squeezed itself into a hard ball.
Strange.
I kick off the covers, unwilling to remain motionless with my thoughts any longer. I unwrap my toes to find that the healing ointment has done its magic. They’re still tender and red but no longer in danger of falling off, which is enough for a celebration. If Korr hadn’t offered me the magic salve, I’d have lost my toes, and possibly my life if any of my other wounds had gotten infected.
I want to meet this Taris and learn what I can from her.
The idea lodges itself in my mind, taking root in the space that had opened up when I’d lost my place in the village. I wish I could return to my house for the stock of herbs, seeds, and roots I’d gathered over the warm months of the year, but if I can’t, I could start over next spring, as long as I had a place to stay in the meantime.
My first thought is that I could take advantage of Korr’s conviction that I’m his mate. He said he would take care of me. But what would he demand in exchange for providing me with a roof over my head?
The thought leaves a bad taste in my mouth—and not because I think that Korr would barter his protection in exchange for my body. No, it’s the idea of using him that sits wrong with me. I don’t think I have it in me to swindle an honest male, even to ensure my own comfort.
I venture outside for long enough to visit the privy and gather some more snow to melt on the stove, then tidy up the bed and the room. It feels very domestic of me to be doing that while Korr is out gathering wood, and I chafe at the implication that I’m the housekeeper now. I’d lived on my own before I married Patrick, and in the year since his death, without needing anyone to provide for me.
That was likely one of the reasons why the villagers turned on me. Not one of them liked an independent woman who didn’t need a man.
I sweep the floor angrily, swishing the broom with more vigor than necessary. The door opens suddenly, and I yelp, sending a cloud of dust toward Korr, who stands on the threshold, frowning at me.
“What are you doing, woman?” he growls. He stomps into the room, his hood and cloak covered in a layer of snow. “I told you to rest. Why are you up?”
I swat his boots gently with the broom to get him away from the door, then sweep the scattered dust out. The cold air leaches into the room, so I quickly slam the door shut, put away the broom, and turn to Korr, hands at my hips.
“I’m not going to sit around and do nothing,” I say. “I can pay my own way.”
He stares at me as if I’ve grown another head. “What are you on about? You’re injured, Ivy.” He takes me by my shoulders and steers me back toward the bed. “You need rest.”
“No, I’m fine,” I object, batting at his hands, but it’s no use.
He’s much stronger than me, so he finally picks me up and deposits me on the bed.
Then he stares down at me, an exasperated frown line appearing between his black eyebrows. “You will tear your stitches if you overexert yourself. They need at least another day before I can pick them out.”
I gape at him. That sounds incredible, because wounds on humans that need stitching require at least a week of healing, if not more.
But Korr doesn’t seem to notice my expression. “You must remain in bed. Do you want to go through the stitching again?”
I want to protest, but I can’t, because the pain of that endeavor is still etched in my memory, bright and excruciating. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Except perhaps Sal and Barney.
“What else can I do?”
The question escapes me before I can stop it. I lower my gaze to my hands, noting how the scrapes and cuts have already scabbed over, but they can’t hold my attention for long. I peer up at Korr to find him staring at me, confusion etched in his features.
“I told you,” he says slowly, “you only need to rest. I will do what must be done.”
I fidget unhappily, then blurt out, “Yes, but what do you want in return? You said I was your mate. So…what do you expect from me?”
The realization dawns on his face. He finally seems to understand what I mean. Nothing is free in life, no scrap of kindness. It’s a matter of survival. Everyone wants something, and Korr is no different from all the rest.
But he’s not reacting the way I thought he would. I’d been prepared to be given a list of demands, possibly intimate, to be carried out in return for his care. Instead, he looks more worried than before.
“Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” he demands.
I cross my arms over my chest, then wince at the way that pulls at the bruises that haven’t been healed by the salve yet. “Nothing is free,” I say mulishly. “I know that. So—what will you want from me after I’m better? I’d rather know ahead of time.”
Korr stares at me for a long while, silent and frowning. Then he stands without a word and bustles around the small room, righting things that seem only slightly out of place, growling softly to himself. Wordlessly, he strips off his tunic and washes it in a pot with jerky movements, then hangs it by the stove to dry.
I do my best to not stare at his naked chest, but it’s difficult. He’s so different from me—and yet the same. Are orcs and humans really compatible, like he said? I try to imagine orcs coming to live in my home village and fail. If the villagers couldn’t even stand to see me living amongst them…
Still, I have no answer for the question I asked Korr. Discomfort settles in my gut, souring my stomach. The longer he remains quiet, the worse the things I imagine.
Though what could be worse than the fate that the villagers decided for me?
“Stop,” I say when he takes a bag of carrots from the wooden chest and starts cutting them up for stew, all without casting even a glance in my direction.
He pauses, his large hunting knife glimmering in firelight.
“I’m sorry,” I continue quietly. “I obviously said something wrong, and I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want to make you angry.”
Korr lets out a long sigh and sets the vegetables and the knife aside. Finally, he raises his dark gaze to me. “I’m not angry at you.”
I lift my eyebrows in disbelief. “You’re certainly angry at someone.”
“Aye,” he rasps. “At whoever made you think that simple kindness must be repaid.” He motions around the room with his large hand. “This place is barely fit to live in. I can’t even offer you bread or clean clothes to wear. You deserve so much more, Ivy, and yet you act as if you’ll forever be in my debt because I brought you here.”
I shift restlessly on the bed. “You saved my life!”
“I did,” he retorts, his voice rising. “But not to make you my slave.” He shuts his mouth and runs a palm over his face. “Forgive me. I did not mean to shout.”
A lump forms in my throat. “It’s just…” I search for the right way to explain myself. “I don’t know what to do.”
His lips tug to the side. “Nothing. You should rest and let me take care of you.”
When I open my mouth to protest, he holds up his hand to stop me.
“Please.” His expression shifts, and something like despair flickers on his strange, handsome features. “I cannot stand you thinking you owe me anything. You are my mate, Ivy. My foremost instinct is to take care of you, always, so having you think I’m doing it to gain an upper hand is…”
He shakes his head, and a lock of shiny black hair slips from his braid. I fight the impulse to tuck it back, to redo the messy braid for him. I don’t think he would appreciate my touch just now.
Understanding dawns slowly. I’ve seen how different he is from me in stature and looks, but I failed to grasp how different orc society must be from ours. I’ve made him uncomfortable.
Korr stands, shuffling restlessly around the room. He keeps glancing toward the windows, then finally pulls on his jacket and overcoat without his shirt and throws a quick glance over his shoulder. “I’ll be back before nightfall.”
He leaves before I can protest, and I’m alone again with my thoughts.
Before, I worried over Korr’s actions. Now I have to consider mine—and how I behaved, accidentally hurting him when he’d only been trying to help.
Finally, I stand on wobbly feet, but only so long as it takes me to drag over the pot with half the vegetables already chopped. Then I return to bed and take over Korr’s task, determined to do better from now on.