Chapter 5

Five

Miranda held his arm tight as she guided him toward the spring, though she seemed to need his support more than he needed hers. Her legs felt like Jell-O. The adrenaline was wearing offand reality was setting in.

She couldn't start crying now. She needed to be able to see, but her eyes were burning with unshed tears, her throat was closed up, and her stomach was clenched tight.

Everything that had happened on Earth was real.

Her planet was gone.

Hollow dread opened in her chest and her lips began to tremble.

"Fuck! It was this close?" The orc cut in. His low voice helped soothe her somewhat. Like a purr, almost.

The trek really wasn't far. Just a hundred feet or so. Otherwise, she would never have found it. She would have gotten lost in her panic to heal him and wandered alone in the woods until she'd fallen from exhaustion.

He'd almost died because of her stupidity. "I'm so sorry."

He didn't respond other than to grunt.

Breaking through the trees, the sunlight spilled through the thinning canopy and illuminated the spring, giving Miranda her first good look at it. She hadn't taken the time when she was filling the water pouch.

It was breathtaking. Smooth stones lined the beach where perfect, clear water lapped at them. The pool was ovular, with a slim inlet off one side and no visible outlet. The current created gentle ripples in the water. The reflections of the brilliant red sunset sparkled against the rippling waves, making it appear to glow from within. Dark green moss and brightly colored leaves covered the surrounding surfaces. Each gust had more leaves raining down, like colorful snow. They landed in the water, swirling lazily—bright red and orange against crystal blue.

The sight was like nothing Miranda had ever experienced. Unearthly bliss. Pure perfection. She sucked in a breath of crisp evening air, the fragrance of clean soil and fresh water so poignant she could taste it.

"Stay here."

Miranda flinched as her companion tugged away. "R-right here? Where are you going? What if the wolves?—"

He hummed darkly, though she couldn't tell if the sound was one of irritation or thought. He nodded toward a boulder. "I can lift you onto that."

The rock was taller than she was and covered in soft moss. "Okay."

The male hesitated, as if he hadn't expected her to agree. His hands were still balled into fists and Miranda was suddenly fighting the urge to stroke them into relaxing.

Then he stepped forward. His hands lingered on her hips, and he hoisted her upward. He plopped her down and quickly removed his hands. Her skin tingled at the loss. Miranda said nothing, just brought her knees up to hug them. The orc swung off his cloak and placed it over the top of her legs, wrapping her up in its warmth and rich pine scent. It was oddly dry while the rest of him was soaked through.

"Thank you."

He gave a brisk nod and turned to a nearby tree,yanking off his tattered shirt as he went.

Her mouth went dry all over again. Oh boy, he was built like a dream. Rippling muscles along his back, abs for days. She'd almost have believed a bodybuilder had saved her, except he was green. Did orcs have those kinds of competitions or was he just naturally buff?

He tossed the shirt away into a nearby thicket. He wasn't going to keep it? He was going to go shirtless from here on out? Was this some kind of reward or was it torture?

Then he flicked at the tips of the sharp branches on one of the bare trees. He picked one that was thick enough to be sturdy but tapered into a point. It was almost as tall as he was and the crack as he snapped it off at the trunk of the tree cut through the quiet and made her hands clench.

He wasn't staggering anymore, even over the rock laden beach. That had to be a good sign, right? Proof he was healed? The fading light was too dim for her to see if his complexion had recovered. He'd been so pale, he looked almost white. Like the inside of a cucumber or maybe a honeydew smoothie.

Her stomach twisted, unsure if she was hungry or about to throw up. She really needed to stop comparing this guy to food.

The orc waded into the spring, holding the stick under his arm so both hands were free. The pool was so clear she could see his legs beneath until he got to where the water was bubbling. He cupped the liquid in his hands and rinsed his face clean.

Then he snorted, coughing and sputtering as if he'd inhaled it.

"Are you okay?" Miranda was poised to push her way off the boulder. She knew CPR. She could save him if he was drowning. God, after all that, don't let him fricking drown. She couldn't handle being out here alone with nothing but her own thoughts.

He cast her a harsh look. Those emerald eyes narrowed. Spitting the water out of his mouth, he wiped off with his arm and Miranda was embarrassed by the knowledge that, of course,he wasn't drowning. No one was stupid enough to breathe water out of their own palm.

It was fine. He was alive. Everything was okay.

But it wasn't.

Everyone was dead.

Miranda squeezed her eyes shut, rubbed at her knees, rocked back and forth as if the motion might ease the pressing agony gripping her chest.

Her babies were dead. Why hadn't she died with them?

How had she survived at all? She couldn't remember how she'd gotten out of the vault. Out of the vent. A whimper broke through her lips.

"Miranda."

Her name, spoken from that deep, rumbling voice, popped her right out of her torture.

He moved the stick into his hand and made his way to where the water was dark, though it only came up to the middle of his thigh. His green, muscular torso was starkly contrasted by the bright reds and yellows of the surrounding trees. Lord, he was built like a dream. It made total sense why she'd convinced herself he was one.

He narrowed his eyes at her before turning back to his task. He stopped next to a log jutting from the surface with the stick raised like a spear. Crisp water lapped around the damp, blackened wood. A breeze rustled the trees, moving the thinned-out leaves to let in the light of the setting sun so she could make out the planes of his face. He furrowed his brows in concentration as he peered below the surface of the water, as if he could somehow see beyond the ripples.

His arm moved so fast she couldn't even process it. The sound of a splash was the first sign he'd lunged at all. His makeshift spear rose from the depths to reveal three still wiggling fish.

Miranda froze, shifting between shock and something darker she didn't want to name. She was heavily dependent on this stranger. His threat of hunting her down if she fled rang harshly between her ears until it was deafening.

His eyes held her captive as he emerged from the water. His woolen slacks were now as soaked as his chest.

She worried her lip as he approached. "Are you cold? Here. Have your cloak back."

She'd startled him again. He was expecting her to comment on something else. She glanced at the fish. "That was really impressive. You could win all the prizes at the county fair. Do they have spearing competitions at the county fair? I never actually went to?—"

"Miranda."

She loved how he said her name. There was a slight accent to it. A lingering rumble on the "r."

Mirrrh-anda.

He wrapped his hands around her waist again. His warm hands heated her ribs as he placed her gently on the ground.

She reached up to touch his forehead. It was reasonably cool. "Fever's gone."

He shook his head, eyes mirroring a deep well of bafflement she found adorable. Then he took back his cape and put it on. "We're going back to my pack."

"Okay," she murmured, taking his arm again. He was so much bigger than her. So much taller. A memory flushed her as they walked. "When I was a kid, I got lost in the grocery store. The caretaker had been watching ten of us girls all at once. I was really small back then and got overlooked."

He raised an incredulous brow.

"Okay," she amended, with a wry chuckle, "I guess I'm still small, but I bet everyone is small compared to you."

He huffed.

"Anyway. The store clerk let me hold his arm while he led me back to the group. Reminds me of this." She gave his arm a squeeze. It was hard as a rock, all muscle. "He wasn't as buff as you, not that I mind. Muscles are great. Makes me feel even safer."

"Even safer?"

Miranda looked up into the orc's face, blinking at his furrowed brow and wide eyes. She supposed it was strange to feel safe with him. She didn't know him. He was a complete stranger.

An alien stranger in the middle of the woods on a different planet.

Was this a different planet?

God, she was going to lose her dang mind.

He said nothing, and after a quick walk in growing darkness, they had returned to the clearing where they'd left his leather bag.

The orc—Govek, his name was Govek—peeled her off his arm slowly. She clenched her teeth to keep from arguing. Yes, he was a stranger. Yes, he was inhuman. Yes, he had enough muscles to potentially crush her into dust in one hit.But dang, she did not want him to leave her here. She'd rather take her chances with him than be left all alone.

She'd already lost everything else.

She squeezed her eyes shut, refusing to think about it.

The huge puddle she'd made while healing him was a few feet away and she trembled at the memory of her panic. The trembling quickly turned to shivers in the fading sunlight. Her eyes fixed on Govek as he searched his pack. Was he going to leave?

He pulled two small black stones from the pack and left her next to it. Gathering rocks into a circle in one of the dryer spots. He filled his little rock fort with damp leaves and wood. Then he struck the black stones against each other, the crack echoing into the night and showering sparks. His pile burst into flames like bacon on a barbecue.

She settled down in front of the fire, marveling. All her experiences had come from making bonfires in the summer at the group home. She remembered the staff needing to add more logs and sticks multiple times before a roaring blaze like this one was going.

Govek threw a few more damp logs on the fire, showering sparks into the night. Her gaze followed them as they rose high and dimmed away in the blackened sky, replaced by stars twinkling above the tree canopy. The scent of smoke was oddly comforting. After all she'd been through on Earth, she would have thought soot and ash were the last things she'd want to smell.

But there was something different about this wood smoke. Something... cleaner.

It wasn't laced with chemicals. She hugged her knees. Memories of Earth spiraling. Walking to work. Car exhaust. Processed soup for lunch. Cutting up artificially grown apples for the kids' snacks.Sticky little toddler hands.

Don't think about it. Don't think.

She heard a knife slicing through flesh, and it pulled her from her memory. The scent of fish.

Miranda forced her eyes open again and concentrated on the orc as he gutted the trout with practiced efficiency. He seemed to be using his fingers for the task. Where was the knife? She hadn't found one in is pack but maybe that was what cut her?

He'd almost died. And she would have been the last one left alive again.

Her stomach rolled, and she forced a few deep breaths, willing the panic to ebb. He was fine now.

His distance was respectful, but she wished he would come closer, wished he would talk more, wished he would help distract her from the pressing weight gripping her chest, threatening to smother her.

"You don't have to cook those if you don't want to. I've always liked sushi."

Govek glanced up from his task, but still said nothing.

"Well," Miranda amended. "I guess I usually ate the precooked stuff. Real raw fish was so expensive. Like, a hundred and fifty dollars for one roll. I never had that kind of money. But I think the inexpensive stuff was just as good."

Miranda paused her jabbering as Govek finished cleaning the fish and brought them back to his makeshift spear. Skewering them evenly before setting them over the fire.

"I hope this lives up to your expectations," he said.

"I'm sure it will. I'm hungry enough that I would eat anything. Er... sorry, that came out wrong. I'm sure your fish will be wonderful. I'm super grateful you're making them. Thank you. Really."

His furrowed brow softened, and he gave a nod.

"How are you feeling?" Miranda asked.

"I am fully healed," he replied, turning the fish over the fire.

"By water magic," she breathed.

"Yes."

She glanced down at the minor cut on her hand she'd gotten when searching through his things. "It only works on you?"

"The spring is of the Fades. It was an ancient gift from them to the sentinels of the Surface."

"Sentinels of the Surface? I thought you said you were an orc."

"My species is orc. My duty is to be a sentinel. We protect Faeda and it protects us in return."

Faeda. A different planet. She started combing nervously through her matted hair.

"Where is your village?" Govek finally asked.

She hesitated, considering her responses. "Uh... in Washington state?"

His forehead furrowed deep, casting dark shadows over his eyes.

"In America?"

Still nothing.

Her breath hitched, but she managed past the lump in her throat. "On... planet Earth?"

He really was an alien.

Which meant she was now too.

Her heartbeat picked up speed, did double time, hard enough she could feel it in her fingertips.

He turned back to the fish, his expression grim. Apparently, he needed space to process, just like she did.

The comforting crackle of the fire continued to soothe her, and the lingering smoke drowned out the final remaining traces of her post-apocalyptic hell. She wished the smoke could cleanse her memories just as easily.

Miranda's eyes pricked harshly as the face of Mr. Barker swam into her vision. He was by far the nicest boss she'd ever had.

She'd only worked at Blackridge Bank for two months, but in that time, she could tell Mr. Barker truly cared about all the tellers. He always went out of his way to stock the break room with snacks, approve vacations without question, and joke around to lighten the mood. His laugh lines and frizzy white hair flashed through her mind's eye.

He'd been the last human she'd ever seen.

Miranda would never get an explanation from him. He never told her why he'd shoved her into the vault alone. She should hate him for what his hasty action had put her through. Or thank him for saving her life in such a ruthless way. Instead, the agony of grief gripped around her heart so fiercely it was physical pain.

Liquid heat dripped down her cheeks as her thoughts turned to her other job. Riverside Daycare Center, where she spent her evenings and mornings.

She thought of all her babies, whose lives had been cut tragically short.

She hadn't been there to save them.

"Eat."

The growling demand was harsh and broke the bubble of her sorrow so easily it almost made her gasp. Something about this male's voice threw her out of her thoughts and brought her back to reality.

This reality. Not the one she'd suffered on Earth.

She blinked down at the roasted fish—crispy skin and delicious steam assaulted her senses. She took the branch he'd used to skewer it for cooking with trembling fingers and ventured a bite, uncaring of bones or scales.

It melted in her mouth like butter. Fresh and exquisite. It wasn't as if she hadn't had fish before, but this was different. Clean. Pure. It had never touched a single drop of polluted water in its brief life.

She ate half of it before she realized the orc was watching her in muted horror. She gulped down the bite she had in her mouth and felt her cheeks heat. She had eaten the bones in her haste.

"How long has it been since you ate?"

"I had the bread you..." She stopped when she saw his harsh scowl. Fiddling with the crispy front fin of the fish, she noticed she hadn't gotten to its head yet. Thank god. If he was so shocked at her eating the bony tail, she couldn't imagine how he might have responded to her sucking down its skull like a vacuum.

"A couple days," she admitted.

A low growl sounded, and she yelped as he jerked the fish out of her grasp. In her panic to keep the food, she snapped, "Give it back!"

He didn't, and he was so much bigger than her, holding her off easily with nothing more than his elbow. She watched in dismay as he ripped her meal apart and gathered up the tiny pieces on a large yellow leaf.

"You cannot eat the bones. You will choke on them."

She paused in her attempts to reach over him, startled at his misplaced concern. "No, I won't."

"You will."

"My throat isn't that small."

"Yes, it is."

"I assure you it's big enough to handle anything you want to put down it," she stated before she could think better of it.

He froze for a heavy minute before a shudder raked over him, and his eyes snapped to hers. He looked as if he wanted to swallow her whole.

She was in way over her head, but she'd watched enough raunchy movies to know that flirting could get you a lot of places, and she would literally do anything to win her fish back.

Govek huffed and slid the leaf over to sit on her knee. "Don't do that."

She mumbled innocently. "Do what?"

"Tempt me. You know not what you ask for."

Sure, she did. She might have technically been a virgin, but she certainly wasn't innocent. Twenty-second century Earth was about as prudish as a pop star and sex toys were as easy to come by as candy bars.

But, as the male heaved heavy breaths, as his enormous muscles bunched and his scowl darkened his features, she realized she probably shouldn't be provoking him. Even if that provocation would lead to a very pleasurable distraction from her current turmoil.

Halfway through these randy thoughts she noticed she'd already eaten all the fish he'd given her and was about to lick the leaf clean. Maybe even break down and eat the dang leaf, too.

Govek plopped another pile down before she could lift it and she went back to eating without a word. Then he handed her some water. "Slow sips."

She supposed she should obey for now. She didn't want to upchuck all the fish.

She was partway through the third or fourth "plate" before her stomach became full enough for her to acknowledge that the orc wasn't eating anything. "What about you?" If she could polish off three small trout, Govek could probably eat thirty.

"I am fine."

"But you're hurt." She trailed off, remembering he actually wasn't hurt anymore. She gulped, fiddled with the fragrant flakes of meat she had left. "Sorry. I went a little crazy there, huh?"

"You were starving."

"It's only been a couple of days."

He growled. "You look fragile enough that a stiff breeze would blow you away like dandelion fluff."

A puff of laughter bubbled up from her full stomach, forcing a smile to stretch her chapped lips."You have dandelions here too? I guess I can believe it. Those weeds were so prolific they would spread to different planets, wouldn't they?"

The orc's face softened as he watched her. The usual scowl vanished. She rested her head on her knees. Warm from the fire. Drowsy from the food.

"You should rest," he moved the leafy leftovers aside. Then he took off his cloak again, placed it on the ground next to the fire. "You may sleep here."

"Where will you sleep?" she asked, though she was already moving to lie down on it. He wouldn't be able to leave without his cloak, right?

"I'm fine," he said, throwing a few more logs on the fire.

"But—"

He shot her a look harsh enough to burn. Without another word, she settled down, exhaustion flattening her. "Okay."

He snorted with what she assumed was approval.

"You won't leave, right?" She couldn't help herself.

But he answered readily. "No. I will not leave."

A shudder rolled over her and she willed tears not to fall. She had no choice but to believe him. She took a deep breath of the rich smoky pine scent of his cloak and took a long look up at the billions of stars twinkling above her.

With their light shining upon her face, Miranda succumbed to sleep.