3. Sammy

3

Sammy

My head throbbed worse than my twenty-first birthday hangover. Mako had convinced me that I needed to mark the occasion with a bottle of tequila, while Abby called for vodka shots. Even five years later, I hadn't forgiven either of them for it. As I rubbed at my temples, I thought now I just might let go of the old grudge.

"Whoa, talk about a pounding." I laughed at my stupid joke, but I didn't dare open my eyes. The ache across my forehead reverberated down my temples, jaw, and neck. I rolled to my side with painstaking slowness and curled in a ball. "Ugh."

Funny enough, nothing sloshed in my stomach. And while the headache was brutal, I didn't feel nauseous. That was weird. Could this not be a hangover? I had migraines every so often. Staring at a screen for hours on end tended to do that. But this felt different.

"Wait a minute, I haven't gotten drunk in years." Hell, I rarely drank at all anymore, definitely not like that ill-fated birthday. What was this? I peeled my eyelids open with my fingertips. My thoughts which had been as foggy as mud cleared enough for a single revelation. "This isn't a hangover."

I inhaled through my nose, a deep clearing breath, and tried to work through the pain. I had to figure out what was going on. Laying on my side, I spotted the first oddity in my surroundings. The nightstand to my left appeared to be constructed of oaken wood with a stone top. Since my room at home had a cheap plastic two-drawer night table with an off-white flower pattern, this did not add up.

"What are you?" I reached for the top of the nightstand to investigate further. The movement sent a blast of spasms at the back of my neck, but I persisted. My fingers brushed a strange form. I grabbed at the base of the object and drew it to my eye level. "A unicorn?"

The statue in my hand was carved in intricate detail. A tiny wooden horse with wide spread wings and a perfectly crafted horn at the base of its forehead. "No, an alicorn," I murmured, my eyes blinking to focus on the object. "Beautiful."

"Yes, indeed," a deep bass voice responded.

I screamed. A mysterious statue, the wrong nightstand, that I could handle. But an unknown man in my bedroom? Uh-huh. Forgetting my pain, I flew out of bed…and immediately crumpled to the ground. I didn't even get a glimpse of the stranger before the pain overtook me, forcing my eyes shut again. I massaged my head and groaned.

"You have to be more careful. We don't know what's happened to you," the same strange voice chided me, closer than before.

With my eyes closed, I threw up both hands in a stopping motion. I tried to peel my lids back to see the man, but my body would not cooperate. Keeping calm and the fear from my voice was near impossible. I trembled as I demanded, "Don't come closer."

"I'm not going to hurt you." The stranger sounded on my level now as if he had crouched. "Just let me help you back into bed."

"No!" I screamed, not caring about staying cool anymore. Panic tore at my throat.

"Listen to me," his voice gentled, a warmth in his tone. "My name is Guruk. You were found unconscious outside the alicorn's pen."

"Alicorn?" A sinking sensation turned my stomach. Why did I get the feeling he wasn't talking about the statue?

"Yes, the sacred beast was injured not long ago, and she's been recovering at my farm." He didn't appear to have come closer, which gave me a momentary sense of relief. "Were you caught in the storm?'

"Storm?" I felt like a fool echoing his questions, but my head was still pounding and I couldn't make sense of a damn thing. I tried again to open my eyes and settle my nerves. A bit at a time my lids peeled back. I spotted grains in the floor and used the organic pattern to ground my senses. "There was a storm."

"Yes," he said, falling silent after as if to give me time to sort through my thoughts.

"And I was with my friends." The floor was constructed of an oak wood like the nightstand. I ran my hands over the boards, willing my mind to remember. "We were playing a game."

"A game?"

At his confusion, I felt my conviction waver. And as if on automation, my head lifted on its own. I was not prepared for the sight. A huge figure sat cross-legged not ten feet from me. His black hair was pulled into a low ponytail at the base of his skull. Muscles bulged behind his simple black vest and leather pants. He wore no shoes, but I doubted he'd be able to find his size with his massive feet anyway. His eyes were a light green, the same shade as my favorite mint tea leaves. But none of that was as important as the tusks sticking from the sides of his bottom lip, nor the green-teal hue of his skin.

I didn't scream. I didn't think. My jaw dropped as every thought fled my mind.

Then, with frightening speed, my memories slammed into me: the campaign, the game, my friends, the storm, the alicorn, and… "Havenlore."

"That's right," the man—male?—answered. "You're in the central village of Havenlore."

"I…" The bile that I had been empty of before rose in my throat. "I…" The jarring headache returned with a vengeance. "I…"

"Whoa," he said, sweeping me into his arms with a speed that knocked the air from my lungs. "You're turning as green as me."

The absurdity of his comment cut through some of the pain and anxiety declaring war on me. And his nearness created a funny feeling in my head, like I'd sucked in a helium balloon. I giggled, and ever the smartass, I added, "That'd be a sight to see. A green human."

His gravelly laugh barreled through his chest, the same chest that I was currently held against. Somehow the vibration of it helped ease my aches. "Let's get you fixed up before that happens."

"Why?" I kept up the banter, unwilling to give up this lighthearted reprieve and the floating sensation swimming through my head. "We could charge admission."

He chuckled and placed me on the bed. "Well, before we start planning this business of yours, what say you get to feeling better first?"

When he started to pull away, I grabbed his arm unthinking. "Wait."

A low electric current vibrated from where my hand held onto his thick forearm. We both stared at the spot, trying to make sense of the strange connection between us.

"What are you…" His gaze found mine and I couldn't help feeling the pull of his unusual yet beautiful mint-colored eyes. Time stood still for a breath, then he cleared his throat and said, "What do you need?"

It was on the tip of my tongue to say, You. The tusks sticking from his mouth, framed by a neatly trimmed black beard and cut jaw, should have frightened me. They didn't. His enormous bulk, easily surpassing my own average frame, should have set me running. It didn't. It was as if madness itself had gripped my mind and played a game with my heart. But I couldn't deny that this stranger whose name I didn't even know, whose species I didn't even know, made the pain recede and filled me with a sense of lightness I'd never known before.

I should have been screaming, crying. I was inside a damn game world. But instead, I let go of his arm and patted the bed. "Would you sit beside me for awhile?"

He eyed the spot, likely judging the sanity of my request—he could join the club. When I felt better I'd have a hell of a time assessing my mental state I was sure.

Somewhere between command and question he said, "You should sleep."

"I can't. Not with the pain." I sighed, wishing I could rest and wake up to the world righted again. That thought at least made me feel like I hadn't lost my mind completely. Still, there was no denying that his closeness eased my pain, turning it to a pure delight, as if I was filled with laughing gas.

"You're hurt? Why didn't you tell me?" The alarm on his face reassured me that this male wasn't going to harm me, no matter what or who he was. Well, at least not yet. I gulped at that. Then, a pain shot up my spine, and I winced. His gaze tracked the movement.

"It goes away when you're near," I confessed, not daring to reveal more. Yet, I didn't want the giddy feeling to go away. I patted the bed again.

"That's impossible." He curled a dark brow upward, but he also helped me move over to make room for his bulk.

"All of this is impossible," I grumbled.

Climbing in bed atop the comforter beside me, he rested his back against the headboard. He didn't touch me, but the heat of his body warmed the otherwise chilly room. The hunter green tunic I wore and brown leggings looked woefully familiar. My thief character in the game wore the same. But I wouldn't worry about that now. For the moment, the pain had eased with his nearness, and I was floating on a cloud.

I mean I was in bed with a strange male who I suspected might be an orc. And I had no idea what his intentions were with me. But all things considered…

My stomach knotted from the uncertainty balling in my gut, battling with the lovely euphoric feelings. I pillowed my head on my arm and turned on my side. "Will you talk to me until I fall asleep?"

"As you wish." His rumbling voice soothed my nerves like a balm to my senses. "First, will you tell me your name?"

"Samantha Riley." I yawned, the adrenaline seeping from my system. "But my friends call me, Sammy."

"Then, little one," he smiled down at me, "may I call you Sammy?"

"Sure. What's your name?" I closed my eyes, not quite believing I was falling asleep next to a stranger—a stranger from a fiction game no less.

"Guruk of the North, Defender of the Caverns, Guardian of the Sacred Beasts." His large finger stroked at my temple, instantly easing the lingering ache there. "But simply, Guruk, will do."

"Good, because that's a mouthful." I tried to laugh, but instead I moaned into his touch.

He yanked his hand away. "Did that hurt?"

My eyes snapped open and I grasped his hand. "No, it helped. Do it more, please. And just talk. Whatever you want." I yawned again, the energy flowing out of me like water through a sieve. "It's working."

"Okay, little Sammy. What can I tell you, then?" His knuckles stroked the top of my head. "I'm the third son of an old orc family. Deep in the caverns of the northern caves…"

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.