Chapter 30

Eirik plucks a cone from the pine with surprising ease. He scrutinizes it, a crease appearing between his brows. These chubby cheeks make me want to pinch them every five minutes. He brings the cone up, showing it to me.

"A pine cone! So big, isn't it?" I coo at him, smiling.

Eirik squeals back, opening a smile big enough to show off his tiny tusks and two other tiny teeth.

Then he shoves the cone into his mouth.

I jerk in surprise. Why do babies like to survey everything with their mouths?

"Oh no, that's not for eating!" I reach to pluck the cone from his chubby green fist, but he doesn't wince in pain or anything.

How can baby orcs be this tenacious?

I watch with a mix of amusement and concern as Eirik gnaws on the pine cone, his toothless gums working furiously at the tough scales. He crows, drool dribbling down his chin onto the front of his fur-lined tunic.

That shouldn't surprise me. The memory of Thorn giving him a sword to chew on is pretty fresh. For an orc toddler, I suppose a pine cone is no match for his iron gums.

One thing I've learned about orcs is that they're better than humans at everything—at least body-wise. They're stronger, healthier, and tougher. They don't feel as cold as we do, and they don't need as many hours of sleep. I'm lucky Eirik enjoys taking naps.

Shaking my head with a smile, I let him keep his new teething toy and turn my attention back to the small pine tree. We're close to the clan house's entrance, facing the fields, so there are no big trees. Thorn would only allow this in the presence of a couple of guards and only close to the house, so here we are. With a tiny tree.

I'm not complaining. It's good to be outside.

This tree is very similar to a Scotch pine, with one exception. It has the bright green leaves of a young pine, even though it's producing cones. Also, the bark is wider than I expected. And, when I move, the leaves look tinged with gold. My decoration is poor compared to the tree's natural state.

But Christmas is approaching, and I wanted to do something like this.

Colorful ribbons dance in the chilly breeze. I found these in the classroom and Gorbag, my guard, thought it would be alright to take them since it was for the prince.

Eirik offers me the red ribbon I gave him before the pine cone distracted his thoughts. I smile. He's very polite for an orc. I expected monsters to be more… bloodthirsty. Aggressive.

I take the ribbon. "You're such a little prince. Guess that's how I'm going to call you. What do you think?"

He pulls the cone from his mouth, inspects the drooled area, then turns the cone around and bites into another spot. I shake my head, glancing up at our work.

We've been decorating this tree like a Christmas tree. Or the closest I can get without the usual ornaments. The pop of color against the white background of the snowy village makes me smile. A few orcs lumber past, barely sparing us a glance as they go about their business. I'm not sure if being ignored means they hate me or if it means they're getting used to the sight of me.

Adjusting the prince on my hip, I tie another ribbon to the branch closest to me. Because I'm holding Eirik, I can't reach higher. I hope Thorn won't mind our little celebration. I could use some holiday cheer.

Heavy footsteps crunch through the snow behind us. I freeze, a ribbon slipping from my fingers. For some reason, I recognize his tread. Maybe because he's bigger than everyone else, but I immediately know the heavy steps belong to the king.

"What's all this?" Thorn's deep voice rumbles, but he doesn't sound mad. Eirik lets out a squeal at the sight of the king, waving his pine cone.

I slowly turn to face the towering orc chieftain, my heart thudding against my ribs as I put on my best smile. "We were just decorating. I thought Eirik would have fun."

Thorn's eyes fasten on me for a solid minute. He's been doing this. I've caught him staring at me more than once. I wonder if he's judging me too hard.

He drags his gaze away and studies the tree behind me. The ribbons sway to the wind, adorning the lower half of the tree. The half I could reach.

A grunt. "What's this for?" Thorn asks.

His black hair is loose today, swaying to the breeze. He's in his usual pair of loose white tunics and dark pants, but his sleeves are shoved up to his elbows. My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth.

I had no idea orcs could have sexy forearms. Thorn keeps surprising me. Dark hair curls over sinewy muscle, the tendons and veins of his hands clear as he pauses both to his hips.

My brain goes mushy. When I open my mouth, my voice comes out raspy.

"For the winter holiday," I say, looking away from his sexy arms.

I didn't know I had a thing for hands. But his hands are so nice to look at.

Thorn doesn't seem to notice. His dark eyes flick from me to the tree, brows furrowing. "Your human tradition?" He takes a beat, his eyes narrowing. "Christmas? Is that what you called?"

Something sparks in my chest. Damn it. I like that he remembers. The spark in my chest burns like the embers of a forest fire. I smother it hard.

"Yeah." I tuck a loose curl behind my ear, self-conscious under his intense stare. "I'm surprised you remember. Back home, we would put up a tree and decorate it to celebrate." I trail off, my cheeks heating. Thorn's gaze is a laser, pinpointed on me, but I can't bear to look at him. "Should I have asked first?"

Thorn waves a massive hand. "It's fine. He looks happy enough." The corners of his mouth twitch, hinting at a smile. "Though I'd prefer he not eat the entire tree before you finish."

A surprised laugh bubbles out of me. "Don't worry, his pine cone is providing an excellent distraction. I'm still impressed with how strong he is."

His eyes travel over my face, then across the tree. "Why did you only decorate the lower part? Does that have a meaning?"

I roll my eyes, puffing out in mock offense. "No. I'm just short." Whirling around, I stare at the tree. "It doesn't look so bad."

Thorn steps closer, so near that I can feel the heat radiating off his enormous frame. He reaches out to fiddle with one of the ribbons, his thick fingers surprisingly deft, his arm too close.

A shudder makes me tremble. I tell myself it's because of the cold.

Thorn bends at the waist and plucks a ribbon from the basket near my feet. "I get the upper half while you tell me more about your Christmas."

Before I know it, Thorn has emptied the basket decorating the tree while I tell him about my favorite Christmas memories. Baking cookies with my parents, opening presents, accidentally making alcoholic eggnog when I was ten... An unexpected pang of melancholy hits me.

Not for missing home. Surprisingly, I don't miss it that much. But I do fear I'll never have another holiday celebration like the ones I had with my parents. Here or back in my world, I'm missing the most important part—family.

When I look up, Thorn is staring back at me, his massive shoulders relaxed. There's something in his eyes that makes my stomach swoop.

"It sounds...nice. Peaceful." Thorn's voice is gentle while his gaze searches mine. "I am sorry you were parted from your home against your will. I would do anything to get back to my people."

"Of course you would," I say, forcing a smile. "You have Eirik." And I tickle the baby in my arms until he's giggling so hard he lets the cone drop. I chuckle at him.

Thorn crowds me. I feel his presence, his warmth, before I see him. He leans in, so close that I catch a whiff of pine and leather and something distinctly male. I freeze.

My head's telling me to step away, to face the enemy... but my body has other ideas. Heat coils inside me when I look up. My heart races. I have to ball my hands into fists to stop myself from leaning into him. His heat is too enticing.

Thorn's chest rises and he holds his breath. Something tightens inside me. Thorn breathes out, a low growl rising from his chest.

My knees quiver, my insides turn to jelly. Heat races to my face. It's so hot now that my eyes water. I can't pull my gaze from his.

Thorn steps back, releasing me from his spell. Cold hits me with a new gust of wind, putting the fire out. I furrow my brow—did he just sniff me? Why? Am I stinking?

Or did he like it?

Before I can question it, Thorn straightens and takes another step back. "Yes. I do have Eirik. And I'm glad he has you, too. Orcs are raised as warriors, always. Perhaps some of your softer ways will be good for an orc heir."

I turn around to face him, cocking my head. That's… unexpected. I thought orcs would be all for violence. "How?"

Thorn shrugs. "I don't know."

"I don't understand how my softness can help him become a better king."

Thorn looks away at the village. I take the moment to admire his sharp jaw and nose and the heavy set of his eyebrows. "We are not warriors because we enjoy death. We are warriors because we must defend those we love. And I hope he doesn't need to fight so hard when his time comes."

His words resonate with me. With how much I've been running, searching for a place to belong... How I wish I had a place like this. A home I would want to defend with people who would want to defend me and want to raise children for a more peaceful future...

Our gazes lock. I'm drawn to the darkness of his eyes, impressed by how much an orc understands me without even trying…

A warmth unfurls through my chest. Maybe this is what I've been searching for all along—not just a place, but a person who truly sees me. Someone who understands the yearning in my soul for connection and belonging.

Someone who understands my need for family.

Thorn dips his chin and leans closer. I find myself drawn to his strength, his unexpected gentleness. His warmth beckons.

But then he blinks and takes a step back. I look away and clear my throat.

Silly. What am I thinking? How desperate am I for connection that I'm ready to pounce on an orc? A monster.

There's no way I'm this needy, right? No. This is ridiculous.

"I think it's lovely," I say, my voice rasping, so I clear my throat again. "The idea of leaving a more peaceful future for him. I just don't see how I fit into that. He doesn't need me to teach him soft or peaceful ways."

Thorn narrows his eyes. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that you don't really need me. Since Ursha already guards Eirik most of the day, why doesn't she babysit him?"

He squares his shoulders. "Ursha has guard duty in the evenings, and she's been working double shifts because she doesn't trust you. I need Ursha on the walls. She's my best soldier."

"Oh, you mentioned that." Yeah, Ursha is amazing, and I'm nothing like her. Anyone could do what I do—anyone could take care of Eirik. I'm only here because there's nowhere else I fit in.

"You're in a hurry to go back," Thorn says, his upper lip rising in a sneer. Oh, I pissed him off. "Am I not treating you well enough? Letting you sleep in my own bed. Eating the meat I hunt."

My blood grows hotter in my veins. I feel myself bristling. "Am I supposed to be grateful? I never asked for any of that. If you let me go, I won't eat your food, and I won't occupy your bed."

"First, you do not know how to go home," he barks. "Second, I have to keep my people safe and if you walk around aimlessly, searching for your portal, I don't know who might follow you here. Even if you did go back, I don't know what you're going to do with that knowledge."

His words are like a bucket of cold water, dousing the warmth that had been building inside me. "You think I would bring others back here?"

"Accidentally or otherwise, yes, it's a possibility."

My cheeks go so hot that sweat pebbles in the back of my neck. "So, you think I'd be so stupid someone would follow me into the village with no one noticing?"

"I don't know. And I can't take that risk."

Frustration rises in my throat, bitter. "I would never do anything to endanger your people. Or Eirik. Even if you're an ass sometimes."

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, then lower into a glare. "You say that now, but?—"

"But what?" I scowl at him, frustration making me hot. I shift my weight. "You're going to keep me locked in here forever, with a guard following me around every day." I motion for Gorbag, standing near the house. "And you expect me to be happy about it? Is it even possible for a human to gain trust with you?"

"It's not about trust." Thorn wipes a hand down his face, his expression full of worry as he looks away, then back at me. "The Wolfbone Clan has already taken so much from us. Eirik's mother..." He swallows hard. "They took my sister. And her husband. They took too many. I can't lose anyone else."

My stomach plummets. His revelation hangs in the air between us, heavy with grief. Guilt gnaws at my insides.

All this time, I thought Eirik was his son with Ursha. The baby is, in fact, Thorn's nephew. Son of his deceased sister.

"I'm so sorry, Thorn," I whisper. "I had no idea. I thought he was yours." And Ursha's, but that I don't mention.

Thorn nods, his jaw tight. "They killed Eirik's parents, but in here, we raise children as if they were ours. So, he's the heir now, and he's going to be raised as mine."

I nod back, chewing on my bottom lip. That's good. It's good to know Eirik won't be lonely. He has Thorn, and he has Ursha… Whatever she is to Thorn.

There's one thing I don't understand. If Ursha isn't Eirik's mother, why is she around so often? She must mean something to them. She can't just be a random soldier.

An ugly feeling tugs at my heart. Something very akin to jealousy. I quash it, pushing my shoulders back like Thorn and staring straight at him.

"I understand, and I'm sorry you lost your sister. But I lost people, too, and I want my life back. I don't want to stay here forever."

Thorn frowns. "You said you have no siblings. Do your parents still live?"

I can only shake my head.

"Then who are you going back for?" And there's a strange edge to his voice, something I've never heard before. It's not curiosity. It's more. His brow creases in expectation.

"That's none of your business." I don't want to admit I'm entirely alone. Not right now. Not to him. "No, scratch that. I'm going back for me. Because I want to."

Somehow, that makes Thorn even angrier. New wrinkles appear on his forehead. "And I need to keep my people safe," Thorn growls, his voice rising.

I flinch at his tone, at the anger simmering beneath his words. They just make me prickle even harder. I bare my teeth. "You don't have to yell at me. I'm right here!"

"I'm not—" Thorn cuts himself off, dragging a hand down his face again. He growls in frustration, looking into the skies as if they could open and smite me. "I can't do this right now."

He stalks off, leaving me alone with Eirik and the decorated tree. The little prince chatters in his childish language, oblivious to how hard my heart is beating. He drops his cone and reaches out for another.

I sink to the ground, my legs suddenly weak. I want to scream, to cry, to chase after Thorn and make him see reason. But I don't. I just squat there, holding Eirik as he wobbles on his feet. I stare at the colorful ribbons fluttering in the breeze above our heads. Eirik reaches out, giggling as he tugs on the ribbons. One of them rips. Strong baby.

What am I doing? I can't stay here, playing house with an orc king and his nephew. I don't belong in this world, no matter how much a part of me yearns to.

Tears sting my eyes, blurring my vision. I blink them away furiously. I can't afford to fall apart, not now. Not when I need to be strong, to find a way back home.

But is home really where I left it? Or could it be here, in a place where no one looks like me? In a place so different but so familiar?

With a man who challenges me, infuriates me, and makes me feel more alive than I ever have before?

No. I shake my head, banishing the traitorous thought. I can't let myself go down that road. Thorn and I—we're too different. He's an orc king, and I'm just a human girl, lost and alone.

It would never work. It could never be.

No matter how much my foolish heart might wish otherwise.