6. Kalen

CHAPTER 6

KALEN

I can't help but grin as I watch Olivia take in the sights of Fablewood. Her eyes are wide with wonder behind the crude eyeholes I cut in her "sasquatch" mask, and she's practically vibrating with excitement. It's ... adorable, if I'm being honest. And it is even more evidence, as if I needed any, that my pull toward her is not going away. If anything, it is growing stronger.

Much stronger.

"Oh my god, Kalen, look!" She tugs on my arm, pointing at a shop window. "Are those toys ... moving on their own?"

I chuckle. "Ah, Fizz's Magical Playthings. Popular with kids and adults alike."

She watches in awe as a miniature dragon swoops around the display. "I can't believe it. It's like something out of a dream!"

Olivia shakes her head, muttering something about "cataloging" and "field notes." As we move on, I have to stifle another laugh. She's taking this whole thing surprisingly well, all things considered. I'm not really sure what I expected.

As we round a corner, the bustling marketplace comes into view. Stalls selling everything from enchanted fruits to goblin-made jewelry, line the square. The air is thick with the scent of spices and the chatter of a dozen different tongues. Everything from Old Orcish to High Elvish can be heard.

"Can we go look?" Olivia asks, practically bouncing on her toes. "Pleeease?"

I hesitate. It's risky - the more people we interact with, the higher the chance someone sees through her disguise. But the hopeful tone in her voice ... ah, what the hells. "Alright, but stay close, okay? And keep that hat low. And no talking! No need to draw attention to ourselves."

She nods eagerly, and we dive into the crowd. I keep a protective hand on her lower back, guiding her through the throng. It's purely for her safety, of course. Nothing to do with how nice it feels to touch her.

Get it together, Kalen.

Olivia is examining some hand-crafted leather-bound journals when a commotion breaks out nearby. Ah, Zinnia, an elderly gnome has tripped, spilling her groceries everywhere. Without thinking, I rush over to help. It's that old pushcart of hers. The wheels are practically falling off.

"Here, let me get that for you, Zinnia," I say, gathering up her fallen items. "That's it, I am buying you a new cart. And I won't take no as an answer this time."

The gnome peers up at me, her wrinkled face breaking into a smile. "Oh, bless you Kalen. I won't fight you on it either. I thought I could get a few more miles out of it, but there's no fixing it this time."

I help her to her feet, making sure she's steady before letting go. "Don't you worry, I'll get you a brand new one. No problem. Can't have you struggling just to push your groceries around, now can we?"

She pats my arm. "I guess you have a point. Fine, I'm not as spry as I once was. I will accept your kind offer. Whenever you get to it. You've got a good heart, Kalen."

I feel my face heat up. "I, uh... thank you. "

As the gnome toddles off, I turn to find Olivia staring at me.

"That was really sweet," she says softly.

I clear my throat, suddenly feeling exposed. "Yeah, well ... what was I supposed to do? An elderly gnome like her shouldn't have to struggle pushing around that broken old thing. It's just not right?"

Olivia tilts her head, studying me. "It's not a crime to be ‘sweet' you know. I actually prefer it to that smooth talker thing you have going on. Some might even say that ‘slick' thing. But really, I think underneath it all, you're kind of a softie, aren't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I mutter, but I can feel my ears burning. Since when do I get flustered? I'm Kalen, for crying out loud. I don't do flustered .

Before I can come up with a witty response though, Olivia gasps. "Oh my god, Kalen." She's pointing at a weathered stone building across the square. "That seal! With the woman's face! – I know it! I mean from the outside – from my world. But what is it doing here, in Fablewood?"

I follow Olivia's gaze to the weathered stone building. I can make out what looks like a round design. There's a woman looking at a sphere or something. There are other elements but I am too far away to make them out. "Huh. What do you mean you know it?"

Olivia's eyes are wide behind her makeshift mask. "I've seen it before! In my world. But what's it doing here? It has to mean something!"

My mind races. Did Thokk say anything about any symbols or seals? I don't think so. "Where exactly did you see it?"

She hesitates. "I ... on the building. The library. That's where I was, before I popped up in your basement. There was a chalice, and—"

"A chalice? "

Thokk definitely didn't mention Zoe talking about any chalice. Still ,.. But before I can press further, I spot trouble heading our way. Grunk and Borgin, the two orcs from last night, are lumbering towards us, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Well, well," Grunk slurs.

Great, they're still half-drunk it would seem.

"Kalen's got himself a new friend. Awfully small for a sasquatch, ain't she? It is a she, right?"

I feel Olivia tense beside me.

"Boys!" I exclaim, clapping Grunk on the shoulder. "This here's my buddy's kid, Fuzzwhip. Visiting from the mountains. But if I were you, I'd stay back. She's got a nasty case of Yeti pox. Best you keep your distance."

Borgin peers at Olivia. "Yeti Pox ... no wonder she looks so mangy ..."

"Whatever ... I don't need no pox, that's for sure," Grunk says as he pulls at his drinking buddy and they begin to stumble off.

No sooner have we dodged that close call than a different challenge arises as the sky opens up. Rain pours down in sheets, and I feel Olivia press closer to me. Pixie piss. Her disguise won't last long in this downpour.

As we hurry through the rain, Olivia clings to my arm. It feels ... nice. Really nice.

"Fuzzwhip?" There is a slightly annoyed tone to her voice.

"It just popped into my head!"

"Ummhhm. Okay. Mr. Horny."

"That's weak."

"It just popped into my head. How about Horndog? Or beefcake?"

"Horndog? Did you really just say that?" I pull her closer, trying to shelter her from the rain. The fur is already flattening, and the pelt on her head is literally coming apart.

As Olivia's disguise starts to disintegrate in the rain, I should be panicking. Instead, I'm hyper-aware of every point where our bodies touch. The warmth of her skin seeps through our wet clothes, igniting a fire in my veins. I'm overcome with an urge to protect her. No, more than that. The orcs don't even know how close they came to having a very bad day. It hits me like a thunderbolt again - she's not just some human. She's mine. My fated mate. And I'm never letting her go.

I look down at her again, soaked to the bone but still wide-eyed with wonder, and another surge of that protective feeling floods me. She may be a small pink skinned human, but somehow, she sees me more clearly that any monster female ever has.

It's terrifying. And exhilarating.

But dangerous. The waterlogged pelt on her head is already tearing into pieces. I need to get her home.

Now.

"Come on, sweetheart," I murmur, pulling her closer. "Let's get you home and dried off."