Page 16 of Protective Pucking Orc

One moment I was holding Sofia in the middle of the street, and the next, I was standing between her and this monster, my hands thrown out to the side, claws extended.

Determined to protect her.

The bastard had the balls to actually take a step forward, reaching into his jacket as he did so.

I threw back my head, opened my mouth so my tusks sprang free, and roared, “Mine!”

Then as he pulled a gun from a shoulder holster, I surged forward and slammed into him. I didn’t punch him; this wasn’t that kind of fight. I merely hauled back and hit him, feeling his nose crunch beneath my blow, my claws drawing blood down his cheek. He flew backward, hitting the brick wall with a thud.

“Mine!” I roared again, but his eyes had rolled back in his head, and I knew he wasn’t going to bother either of us for a few minutes.

So, my Kteer still howling for blood, I forced myself not to rip the male’s head off, and I turned back to Sofia.

She’d sunk down to the ground, and when I approached her, she whimpered and shied away, huddling around her hurt arm. My heart clenched at the realization I’d scared her, and I forced myself to gentle my expression as I squatted beside her.

“Let me help you, dkaar,” I rasped, unable to soften my words any further, not with the rage pumping through my veins. “Please. You need to get away from here.”

From him.

I saw her dark eyes flicker past me, to the place where her attacker had fallen. She shuddered once, then nodded without looking up at me, and I told myself it was enough.

As carefully as I could, I scooped her up, taking comfort in the way she settled in my arms and pressed her face against my shoulder. I turned us toward the Bramblewood Ice Complex, I felt her silent tears soaking through my coat, and I began to run.

Mine.

The doors of the Bramblewood Ice Complex slid open with a hiss, and I stalked inside, Sofia still cradled against my chest. The scent of ice and disinfectant hit me, familiar and grounding, but it did nothing to calm the storm inside me. My Kteer was practically a living thing, clawing at my ribs, demanding I turn back and finish what I’d started with that male.

But Sofia needed help. Now.

I didn’t bother with the front desk. I knew the layout of this place better than my own home. My boots pounded against the polished concrete as I took the hallway at a run, my breath coming in sharp bursts. The medical wing was just past the locker rooms, and I prayed to whatever gods were listening that someone was already here.

The door was unlocked. I shouldered it open so hard it banged against the wall, and the two females inside—Dr. Martha Ross, the team’s nurse practitioner, and Teresa, the physical therapist—both jerked their heads up in alarm.

Martha was the first to react. She was human, but she’d been working with orcs long enough to know the difference between a male in a rage and a panicked one.

Her gray brows shot up, but she didn’t flinch. “Dakvaar? What the⁠—?”

“Help her,” I growled, my voice rough with the effort of holding back the snarl building in my throat.

Teresa was already moving, grabbing a stack of towels from the counter. “Put her on the exam table—gently, Dakvaar.”

I didn’t like letting go of her, but I had no choice. I lowered Sofia onto the padded surface, my hands lingering until the last possible second. She whimpered, her fingers curling into the fabric of my coat like she was afraid I’d disappear.

Never.

“It’s okay, dkaar,” I rasped, my fingertips gentle on her uninjured cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Martha was already at her side, her fingers gentle as she tilted Sofia’s chin to examine the damage. “Oh, sweetheart,” she murmured, her voice soft but efficient. “Can you tell me your name?”

Sofia’s eyes fluttered, her gaze unfocused. “S-Sofia,” she slurred, then winced as Martha probed the swelling along her cheekbone.

My claws flexed, digging into my palms. Her name? Mine.

Teresa was already cutting away the sleeve of Sofia’s coat with a pair of trauma shears, her expression tightening as she exposed the purpling bruises already forming around her wrist.

“We need X-rays on this,” she said, glancing at Martha. “And a neuro check. She’s got a hell of a shiner coming in.”

Martha nodded, reaching for a penlight. “Sofia, can you follow my finger with your eyes?”