Chapter 28

Thorn leads us through the hallways of the clan house, his steps so heavy I swear the logs shake. By the time we reach the bedroom, my heart is pounding with a mix of nerves and confusion. Thorn shoves the door open and stalks inside, leaving me to follow.

Why is he so upset?

I rush inside the room and Thorn closes the door with finality. Though the room is warm, my fingers are cold. Ignoring Thorn's seething presence, I settle Eirik into his crib, smoothing a hand over his soft hair. He gurgles up at me, those big eyes glinting with a smile, and my chest tightens.

With no portal, I have to accept I won't make it home anytime soon. Maybe staying wouldn't be so bad after all. I don't want to leave Eirik. He's the sweetest thing, and I missed smiling the way I do here.

But Eirik doesn't come alone. He comes in a package.

Taking a deep breath, I turn to face Thorn. The orc king stares back at me with those black, inscrutable eyes. He's clearly upset.

But why?

I know people only keep me around while I'm useful, so maybe he's upset he gave me a chance to work for the clan and I abandoned it?

"Look, I'm sorry if I look ungrateful," I burst. "You gave me a comfortable place to stay, a job, and food. I did not intend to insult you."

Thorn's eyes narrow, his jaw clenching. "Then what was your intention?"

Something sparks inside me. I lift my chin, meeting his gaze head-on. "Isn't it obvious? I want to go home. That would solve all the problems you guys have with me."

Something flashes in Thorn's eyes, gone too quickly for me to decipher. "You think you can just leave? Without my permission?" he says in a voice that rumbles like thunder.

Instead of wincing, I bristle at his tone. "Given the chance of going home? Yes. Did you expect a mile-long thank-you letter?"

Thorn glowers, leaning forward. "I could have thrown you in a cage. I could have left you in the forest to freeze to death. Maybe I should have let the Wolfbone Clan take you. Unlike me, their leader enjoys having slaves."

A shiver races down my spine. "I didn't ask for your help," I reply, but my voice is much surer than I feel.

"No, you didn't. But I gave it anyway." He takes a step closer, his presence overwhelming. My heart skips a beat. Somehow, it doesn't feel threatening. His spicy scent inundates my nostrils, making my nerve endings buzz, but not out of fear. "And this is how you repay us? By trying to sneak off the first chance you get?"

"I wasn't sneaking!" I snap, my own temper flaring.

"Sure looked like it."

I throw my hands up. "Fine. I tried to run away. Back home. How unexpected! Throw me in the dungeons or whatever."

Thorn's brows shoot up in offense. Again.

Why am I the one offending the monster?

"I will not lock you up," he hisses, getting too close for comfort. His spicy scent hits me again. I tilt my head up to look at him. His chest still glistens with sweat, only now drying in the warmth of the bedroom. Thorn cocks his head, his black hair sliding over his shoulder, his eyes drilling into mine. "You deserve better than that."

His gaze drops to my lips. My breath catches as the heat of his massive body pushes against me.

We're so close, I could touch him.

My mouth goes dry, and my shoulders stiffen. A shiver of awareness runs down my body. The silence pushes into me until all I hear is my racing heartbeat. My mind is screaming at me to resist, but my body wants to lean in closer. The air feels charged with electricity as Thorn leans forward an inch.

And I almost get lost in the dark stars in his eyes.

Thorn snaps out of it first. He jerks as if he caught himself doing something wrong, then takes a full step away from me. Those onyx eyes are wide in surprise now.

My heart leaps in my chest, surprising me out of the spell.

What am I doing? What was happening?

No. What was about to happen?

I jump back as far from Thorn as I can. We're at opposite ends of the room and it's still not far enough for me. I take another step and my heel collides with the crib. I kick it so hard that it hits the wall.

My brows drop onto a wince as the weapons on the wall shake. A short sword clangs and wobbles.

Too close to Eirik.

The embarrassment and confusion dissipate from my mind. They're immediately supplanted by fear.

The sword drops.

I lunge forward, reaching for the falling blade. Thorn barks a no, but I'm already moving. My palm slams over the sharp edge, sticking it to the wall. Pain slices through my hand, but I don't pull back.

"What are you doing?" Thorn roars, his eyes wide with disbelief, as he grabs the sword and puts it away. Eirik explodes in sobs.

I cradle my hand to my chest, blood seeping between my fingers. "The sword... Eirik..." I shake my head, glaring at him. "I told you these swords were dangerous!" I hush to Eirik, trying to calm him down.

Thorn's gaze darts from me to the crib. Understanding dawns on his face, followed by a flicker of concern. He looks at me as if he were seeing me for the first time.

Hot fingers curl around my elbows. I jerk with the touch, the heat searing through my coat. Gently, so gently I can't believe it's Thorn, he tugs me toward the dresser. I grind my teeth and watch as he tears open a drawer and rips a strip of fabric. It looks like expensive linen. From a shirt.

Thorn offers a huge hand. His palm is crisscrossed with calluses and scars. It's nothing like mine. "Let me see it."

"It's fine," I mutter, looking away, struggling to pretend I'm mad.

I should be mad. At least I have the right to. He dismissed me, saying the swords were dull, and an innocent child could have gotten hurt…

But Thorn's grip on my wrist is firm. I jerk with the buzzing his fingertips leave behind when he touches my hand. I curl my toes inside my boots. His calloused fingers brush over my skin as he inspects the cut. Every inch we touch is on fire.

Thorn places the strip of fabric on my palm and wraps it tight, closing my fingers over it. "Grip."

I do so, not because he told me to, but because I need to staunch the blood. I glance up at Thorn.

He picks up the sword again, his eyes on me. "Pay attention." He offers the sword to Eirik.

Blade-first.

My shoulders tense and I make to reach out, but Thorn steps away. His eyes search for mine.

"Violet," he says, and it's so strange to hear my name like this. In his hoarse, velvety voice. "Trust me." His eyes drop to my hand for a second. "Humans are more fragile than I ever expected. I should have taken down the swords. But not because of Eirik."

Eirik stops crying and picks up the sword. Chubby fingers curl around the edge. My heart squeezes, but it's for naught.

In the space of a heartbeat, Eirik grabs the blade and bites down on it, not a drop of blood in sight.

My jaw drops. "Oh," I blow out. My mind stops racing. I relax. I get it now. "We are weaklings."

A sound rumbles from Thorn's chest. I could almost believe it's a laugh.

Thorn's brow furrows as he steps up to me again. He checks my wound, then picks up a second strip of fabric. He changes the bandage, the material softer than I expected. This must have been one of his nice tunics. His touch is surprisingly tender for someone so large and intimidating.

My stomach feels funny. I refuse to even wonder if I'm having butterflies.

I stare down at his fingers, so much bigger than mine. My mind drifts as I watch his mechanical motions. His fingers are almost as thick as a man's c?—

A tingle races up my arm.

Stop.

"I‘m sorry," Thorn says, his voice soft.

My brows shoot up. "What?"

He glances at me. "I apologize for yelling. Of course you'd want to leave. And of course Ursha would be the first to break you out."

Thorn tugs the strip into a tight knot. He meets my gaze, and the intensity in his eyes steals my breath away.

I lick at my dry lips, glancing away from those eyes. "Yeah, she really wants me gone." I shrug. "No matter. I couldn't find the portal. Either I lost it, or it's gone."

My heart is much less heavy than I thought it would be. Maybe I'm warming up to this place.

"There's more to you than Ursha expects, Violet," Thorn says, his voice quiet. "I know there's a reason the forest sent you to us. Every member of this clan has a part to play in our fate, and the Sacred Woods protect us." He takes a beat. "I think you were sent to Eirik for a reason. And as long as you prove yourself useful, you'll have a place to stay here."

Useful. The word echoes in my head as Thorn steps back, his expression neutral once more. Of course. My worth is measured by what I can provide. Just like back home.

Thorn's face is empty as he reaches for the door. "I'll send Nellwyn to look at that." He takes one last look at me and the door shuts. The only sounds in the room are from Eirik sucking on the edge of the sword.

Something like disappointment fills me, tasting bitter. I glance down at my bandaged hand, the white cloth already spotting red.

Is this ever going to end? Will my life ever be worth more than how useful I am?

Or will I forever be other, anywhere I go?