Chapter Four

NOEL

The wind howled outside, relentless and unforgiving, rattling the walls of the cabin. Snow was piling higher against the windows with every gust, but the noise of Mother Nature's wrath luckily didn't seem to disturb her slumber as I watched over the injured girl. Rue lay still beneath the blankets on my bed, her breathing steady, but not peaceful. She stirred every now and then, murmuring things I couldn't quite make out.

I stared at the crackling fire, trying to focus, but the thoughts swirling in my head wouldn't settle. They hadn't since I'd found her, lost and half-frozen in the storm. This was supposed to be simple—I'd take care of her until she was well enough to leave, and then I'd get back to what actually mattered: finding Cupid.

But it wasn't simple. Nothing about the woman was.

I rubbed the back of my neck, frustration gnawing at me. I hadn't gotten any real rest since she'd arrived. How could I? Her presence was distracting in ways I didn't understand. I was used to being alone, always alone, and that suited me just fine. People feared me—an Orc. It was easier that way, easier to keep my head down and avoid getting caught up in the mess of other people's problems.

Now, this beautiful, mysterious woman was turning my world upside down. Rue was unlike anyone I'd ever met—her strength, her stubbornness at continuing on her way despite the storm, and the way her eyes sparkled when she looked at me, even though she tried to hide it. I could feel her watching me sometimes, her gaze lingering a little too long, and I wasn't sure if it was fear or something else.

I wasn't used to people like her. I wasn't used to people at all.

Grabbing the poker by the hearth, I shifted the position of the crackling logs with a practiced hand, sparking bright licks of orange and yellow fire. With a heavy sigh, my thoughts drifted again to the reindeer. Cupid was still missing, and I couldn't afford to waste any more time. The storm had made it near impossible to track him, and I needed to find him before the Dark King started asking questions. Azrael Frost wasn't known for his patience—or his mercy. He'd assigned me to care for the reindeer, and if one went missing on my watch, especially before his wedding when he'd ordered them to lead the procession, there'd be consequences. Dire consequences.

But how could I focus on that with Rue here, hiding something?

She stirred again, her soft murmurs drawing my attention. I leaned in slightly, curious, though I told myself it was to check on her fever. Her beautiful smooth brow furrowed, and she muttered something too low for me to catch. I started to pull back, but then I heard it.

"The Dark King...Santa..."

I froze.

Santa? My mind raced. I hadn't expected that. How was she connected to Santa Claus and the Dark King? Two names that held significant weight, especially here in the northern territories. One a figure of joy and hope; the other a ruler whose rise to power had spread fear across the land.

My eyes narrowed as I studied her. She was hiding more than I thought, and whatever it was, it could be dangerous. Mentioning Santa and the Dark King in the same breath? That wasn't a coincidence. It couldn't be.

I should wake her up. I should press her, demand to know why she was really in the forest, who she was running from, and what kind of trouble she was in. But I didn't.

Something stopped me.

I stared at her for a long moment, torn between my need for answers and something else—a strange protectiveness I hadn't expected. I'd been avoiding thinking about it, pushing it down, but it was getting harder to ignore. The longer she stayed here, the more I felt drawn to her. It wasn't just her beauty, though I couldn't deny she was breathtaking. It was something deeper. Her presence was comforting in a way I didn't understand, but it also stirred things inside me I wasn't used to feeling.

I shook my head, trying to push those thoughts away. I didn't need to get involved in her problems. Whatever she was running from, it wasn't my concern. I didn't need trouble with the Dark King, especially not now, with Cupid missing and the clock ticking down.

The storm was brutal, and conditions outside were harsh, but I had to find the reindeer. If I didn't, I risked losing more than my job. Azrael would notice Cupid's absence sooner or later, and if he found out it was my fault...no, I wouldn't let it come to that.

I stood, my decision made. I would go out again and search. I had to. Even if part of me wanted to stay here, by the fire, keeping watch over Rue. Even if her presence tugged at me in ways I couldn't describe.

As I strapped on my gear, trying to focus on the task at hand, Rue stirred again—this time, her eyes fluttered open. They were bleary with sleep but filled with confusion, and when she saw me standing there, pulling on my boots, she sat up abruptly.

"Where are you going?" Her voice was laced with concern, and that caught me off guard.

"I told you—one of my reindeer is missing. I need to find him," I said, keeping my voice steady. I didn't want to explain any more than that. She didn't need to know the details. She didn't need to get involved.

She frowned, glancing out the window at the snow still battering the cabin. "He hasn't returned yet on his own?

"No," I said in a low voice, lowering my gaze. "I must get to him, and soon. You need to stay here and rest."

She shook her head, her long chestnut locks swirling around her shoulders, already moving to throw off the blankets. "I'll come with you."

I turned, my brows knitting together as I stared her down. "You can barely stand, let alone walk through a snowstorm. You're staying here."

"I'm not just going to sit here and do nothing," she argued, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. She winced slightly, but there was an unmistakable fire in her eyes. "I'm good with animals. You shouldn't go out alone. I can help."

I sighed, trying to tamp down my frustration. She was too stubborn for her own good. "You don't have a choice. Your ankle's still healing. If you go out there, you'll only slow me down."

She glared at me, crossing her arms defiantly. "You don't understand. I care about the reindeer. I don't want anything to happen to it."

Her words surprised me, and I felt a tug of something in my chest that I hadn't expected. Concern for the reindeer? That wasn't what I'd expected from her, not after all the secrecy and evasiveness. She was hiding something, I knew that, but her concern for the animal seemed genuine.

It was...endearing.

I pushed the thought away, my voice softening. "It's too dangerous for you out there, Rue. I can't let you come with me."

Her gaze met mine, and for a moment, I saw something vulnerable in her expression. "I don't want you to go alone, either."

I swallowed hard, caught off guard by her words. No one had ever said that to me before. No one had ever worried about me in such a way. Most people feared me, avoided me. Orcs weren't exactly the type to inspire trust or care. But she...she didn't seem afraid of me. Not anymore. Her concern was real, and I felt a pang in my heart I didn't know how to deal with.

"I'll be fine," I said, more softly this time. "But please, I need you to stay here."

She opened her mouth to argue again, but I held up a hand. "Promise me you won't leave the cabin. If you go out there, you won't make it far. The storm's getting worse."

Her lips pressed into a thin line, but after a moment, she nodded. "Fine. I promise."

I didn't trust the way she said it, but I didn't have time to argue. I couldn't afford to lose any more daylight. I had to find Cupid. But as I moved toward the door, something inside me twisted painfully at the thought of leaving her behind.

What if I came back and she was gone? What if she didn't listen and went out into the storm?

The thought unsettled me more than it should have. I wasn't used to worrying about anyone but myself. My life had been built around solitude and duty—around the harsh realities of what it meant to be an Orc in a world that feared and rejected my kind. I had always kept to myself, never letting anyone get too close. That was the safest way.

But Rue had slipped past my defenses. She had a way of getting under my skin without even trying, and the thought of returning to the cabin and finding her gone...it gnawed at my insides.

I turned back toward her, standing there by the fire, wrapped in blankets but still looking so small and fragile. Her eyes met mine, and for a moment, I felt the weight of something unspoken between us.

"Be careful," she said softly, her voice almost a whisper. "And hurry home."

I nodded, my throat tight, and then stepped out into the storm.

The wind hit me like a wall of ice the moment I stepped outside. The snow was blinding, whipping through the air in relentless gusts, and the cold cut through my clothes like knives. I gritted my teeth and pressed on, pulling my hood tighter around my face. I couldn't let the storm's rage stop me. I had to find Cupid.

But even as I trudged through the snow, my thoughts kept drifting back to Rue.

Her concern for me had been unexpected. People didn't worry about me. They feared me, avoided me, kept their distance. It was easier that way, for both them and me. I didn't need attachments. I didn't need complications. But Rue was different. She had already become a complication, whether I wanted to admit it or not.

I shook my head, trying to focus. The reindeer was what mattered. Cupid was out here somewhere, and if I didn't find him, the Dark King would know. And if Azrael discovered that I'd lost one of his prized reindeer, the consequences would be severe.

I forced my way through the snow, my eyes scanning the white landscape for any sign of movement. Cupid had to be out here somewhere. But the storm had wiped away any tracks, any trail he might have left behind, and with the wind howling in my ears, it was impossible to hear anything.

As I moved deeper into the forest, my mind kept returning to Rue. The way she'd looked at me, the way her voice had softened when she said she didn't want me to go alone. No one had ever looked at me like that before. And it wasn't just her concern for me—it was the way she cared about the animal too. The way she spoke about it as if it mattered to her, as if it was personal.

She wasn't what I had expected. When I first found her in the snow, I thought she'd be like everyone else—cold, distant, suspicious of me because of what I was. But she hadn't been. She'd been stubborn, yes, but there was a warmth to her that I hadn't anticipated. A kindness that was hard to ignore.

And I couldn't ignore the way I felt when I was around her.

The truth was, I didn't want to leave her. I wanted to stay, to sit by the fire and ask her questions and listen to her talk, even for hours. To try to figure out what it was that made her so different. But I couldn't let myself get distracted. Not now. Not when I had a job to do.

The snow whipped against my face, stinging my skin, but I pressed on, scanning the horizon for any sign of Cupid. My heart pounded in my chest, not just from the cold, but from the fear that had settled deep in my bones.

I was afraid of what I would find when I returned to the cabin. Afraid that she wouldn't be there. Afraid that I had let someone into my life in a way I hadn't meant to, and now I couldn't take it back.

But even more than that, I was afraid of the way I felt about her.

And I didn't know what to do about it.