Chapter Three

Durga

She’s standing, I’m sitting. I can see why I thought she was a child. She’s tiny. But clearly a woman. If her generous breasts and a nipped waist that swells to rounded hips didn’t give her away, her scent certainly does.

“I made you uncomfortable. Things are different inside the fence.”

“You…” She was going to say something, but her words drop off, forgotten.

Her black eyes glitter in the moonlight as she seems to get lost in my gaze. Her arousal scent swirls around us, but I like the smell underneath it, the slightly citrusy smell of her skin and her breath.

As she leans in closer, her lips just inches from mine, I feel the warmth radiating from her body. The soft moonlight bathes us in its glow, casting a spell that only deepens the intimacy we created when we shared our thoughts.

Her eyes meet mine, their intensity mirroring the wild beating of my heart. We’re both suspended in time, oblivious to the world around us. The playground has been neutral ground, a world where our differences don’t matter.

With a slight tremor in her voice, she whispers, “Kiss me.”

Despite her scent, I didn’t expect this. Part of me wants to persuade her she shouldn’t do this. There are only a few human-Other relationships on the planet. It’s simply not done.

But I don’t say a thing. Instead, I taste the anticipation in the air. It’s a heady mix of desire and uncertainty, blending with the sharp tang of metal from the playground equipment. As her breath mingles with mine, the sweetness of her citrus scent seduces my senses.

Leaning forward, I close the distance between us. Our lips meet in a featherlight touch, an exploration of the unknown. The sensation is electrifying, as if an invisible current surges through our bodies, creating a connection that defies logic or reason.

As our kiss deepens, her fingertips graze my cheek, sending shivers down my spine, while my hands instinctively grip her waist to pull her closer.

The taste of her lips is intoxicating, a fusion of sweetness and sparks. My fingers slide through her glossy, black hair as I press deeper, sliding my tongue along the seam of her lips.

I wasn’t sure she would open herself to me. A moment ago, she looked ready to run, like a prey animal. But her tiny hands grip my biceps, then tighten as though she doesn’t want this kiss to end.

Opening my thighs, I slip a hand around her waist and tug her closer. She’s tucked against me, able to feel my beating heart through my chest and my cock pulsing against her belly.

“Orc!”

We break the kiss so fast I wonder if one of my tusks might have sliced her cheek as we both look toward the noise. Five humans. They don’t look like adults, but I’ve recently proven I can’t determine humans’ ages.

One thing is certain, they’re looking for a fight. Two carry bats, I can smell at least one gun, though I don’t see it.

“What are you doing to this human, Otherfucker?”

“Run home,” I urge her. How is it I never asked her name or where she lived? Still, I order, “Run!”

I can take them, all of them. Although the gun is a wild card.

“Come with me.” She’s pulling my arm.

I want to argue, to tell her I can fight them, but there’s no time for talk. Her tight lips and narrowed eyes tell me she’s not going to leave without me, so I follow her through the maze of playground equipment and into the night.

She seems to know this place like the back of her hand, darting into the black night even though I know her night vision is poor compared to mine. We run through an alleyway, then a vacant lot, then zigzag between low-slung apartments until we arrive at her building.

The exterior of the building doesn’t inspire much confidence. It’s a dilapidated structure, with peeling and cracked paint, revealing layers of neglect.

My senses are on high alert as adrenaline courses through me. I can hear her fumbling with her keys as I stand with my back to her, ready to take all comers. Her hands tremble as she unlocks the heavy metal door. We hurry inside and slam it shut behind us, making sure the lock engages before she leads me toward the stairs.

The dim hallway is just as grim as the exterior. Flickering fluorescent lights barely illuminate the stained walls, giving the place a gloomy atmosphere. The air is heavy with the scent of decay and neglect. Despite how I’ve seen humans live on TV, this place looks as though it belongs in the Zone.

She leads me up a flight of stairs, the worn-out carpeting muffling our footsteps. There’s a lot of noise, considering the time of night. The faint sound of music, TV, and muffled voices drift through the hallways. It’s a cacophony that adds to my growing unease. This place doesn’t feel safe, especially with those humans hot on our heels.

When we reach her apartment door, this time there is no fumbling as she quickly unlocks it, ushering me inside. The moment I step in to her living room, my senses are assaulted by something entirely unexpected. A sense of sanctuary. It’s a stark contrast to the outside world, where danger lurks around every corner.

The cozy lights cast a gentle glow, illuminating the room. Every wall is adorned with colorful artwork except for the space filled with bookshelves overflowing with books. This place is a refuge.

As I take in the surroundings, I notice the subtle details that make her apartment uniquely hers. A plush red couch sits against one wall, accompanied by a cozy armchair covered in a patchwork quilt.

Her personal touches are everywhere. A collection of succulents lines the windowsill. A record player sits on a nearby shelf near a stack of vinyl records waiting to be played.

But it’s the single framed photograph center stage on the bookshelf that catches my attention. It captures a whimsical moment at a carnival, her laughter frozen in time. It’s a reminder that beyond her struggles, she’s still capable of finding joy.

As I absorb the peacefulness of her small space, I’m struck by a need to protect not just her, but her sanctuary. The urgent desire to keep her safe and shield her from any harm surges through me, making my heart race.

But the voices of those humans still echo in my mind, a reminder of the danger looming outside these walls. We may be momentarily safe here, but the urgent need for a plan weighs heavily on me.

“I go to that park all the time. That’s never happened before.” Her voice is tight, her breathing still rapid.

I shrug, not wanting to say what I’m thinking—that I’ve already brought her bad luck.

“I could have fought them. You should have run while I kept them at bay.” I don’t mention the gun. That might terrify her.

“Yep. You could have fought them. Looking at you…” She looks me up and down, which reignites the connection sparking between us. “Looking at you, you probably would have won. Unless one of them had a knife, or a gun, or a cellphone. One call to the police and the word of five humans against one Other… you would have b the bad guy. The night would have ended with you in jail. Or worse.”

“What if I am the bad guy? What if the dumbest thing you’ve ever done is to invite me into your home?”