Page 19 of Protective Pucking Orc

Martha stepped aside. “Five minutes. Then we need to let her rest.”

I didn’t wait for permission. I was through the door before she finished speaking.

The exam room was bright, the overhead lights harsh against the sterile white walls. Sofia was propped up on the table, a blanket draped over her shoulders, her dark hair mussed from where they’d checked her head. Her face was a mess of bruises—purple and green and angry red—but her eyes found mine the second I entered.

And something in my chest cracked.

“D-Dakvaar,” she whispered.

I was at her side in two strides, my hand cupping her uninjured cheek. She leaned into my touch, her breath hitching. “You’re safe,” I rasped. “I’ve got you.”

Her fingers curled around my wrist, her grip weak but desperate. “Rosa⁠—”

“Shh.” I brushed my thumb over her cheekbone, careful not to press too hard. “We’ll get her. I promise she’ll be safe.”

She swallowed, her throat working. “He found us.”

I stilled. “The male?”

She nodded, her eyes welling with tears. “He’s—he’s her father. He wants to take her.”

My Kteer roared, but I forced myself to stay calm. For her. “He won’t.”

She looked up at me, her dark eyes searching mine. “You don’t understand. He’s⁠—”

“Do you want to go with him? Do you want Rosa to go with him?”

I held my breath, praying to the gods below she wasn’t considering such a thing. But to my relief, Sofia’s little headshake was immediate, even if it was followed by a wince from the movement.

“Then I do understand,” I said, my voice low and fierce. “He will never touch you again. Neither of you.”

Mine to protect.

She exhaled shakily, some of the tension leaving her body. “You can’t⁠—”

“I can.” I pressed my forehead to hers, just for a second. “And so can the police, once we⁠—”

“No cops,” Sofia whispered, eyes closed. “Please.”

Damn.

On the one hand, the logical part of my brain was disappointed I couldn’t rely on B.B.P.D, my Kteer howled in satisfied violence, knowing I need only to depend on myself to protect Sofia and Rosa.

My nose pressed against her temple. “I’ll protect you, dkaar. Trust me. It’s what I do.”

She didn’t answer, but her fingers tightened around my wrist.

And for the first time since I’d found her, I let myself believe that maybe—just maybe—she was starting to believe in me.

In us.

The door opened again, and Martha stepped in, her expression gentle but firm. “Time’s up, Dakvaar. She needs rest.”

I didn’t want to leave. But Sofia’s eyelids were already drooping, the pain meds pulling her under.

I pressed a kiss to her temple—just a brush of my lips against her skin—and stepped back.

Martha moved to Sofia’s side, adjusting the blanket. “We’ll keep her here with us for a few hours for observation, just to be safe. You can come back later.”