Page 26 of Protective Pucking Orc

Outside, the wind rattled the limbs of trees, but I felt snug here. The snow would be deep by morning.

I closed my eyes, my last thought a prayer:

Please don’t let me bring him danger.

I woke in the middle of the night—I hadn’t plugged in my phone, so I didn’t know what time it was, only that the moonlight glinted strangely on the snow outside the window, and I felt hot.

It took me a moment to remember where I was, and I thought maybe I was dreaming—everything seemed blurry and muted. Rosa! She was sleeping in the library, wasn’t she? I didn’t know where that was, but I needed to make sure she was safe.

Kicking the covers away, I swung my legs off the bed, then pushed myself upright and swayed a bit. My head was pounding, and everything was warm and clammy.

I stumbled across the room and wrenched open the door. She was nearby; I’d find her.

But I only made it into the hallway before I almost stepped on a pair of huge legs. I followed them up…up…at first I didn’t understand what I was seeing, but then it clicked into place.

Dakvaar was sitting on the floor in the hallway, outside my room.

His back was to the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, his legs crossed at the ankles, stretched in front of him, and his chin sunk to his chest

Asleep. Guarding me?

I gripped the doorjamb, staring in confusion. Suddenly, he jerked his head up, shook it slightly as if waking, and I saw the green glow from his eyes. They didn’t used to glow, did they?

“Go back to sleep, dkaar.”

“What does that mean?” I blurted, although I wasn’t sure why. He’d used it before, but tonight such things seemed to matter.

I could see him hesitate before he shook his head once more. “It doesn’t matter. There are more pain pills by your bed, with ice water.”

“Rosa.” I reached toward him. “Please, is she⁠—”

“She’s asleep.” He unfolded one arm far enough to tap his pointed ear with a long finger. “I’ll hear her if she wakes up, and I’ll bring her to you.” When I hesitated, he lowered his voice. “I promise, Sofia. She’s safe.”

“O—okay.” I swallowed, my throat dry and sore, and straightened. “Thank you.” For everything.

Dakvaar nodded once, settling back into place. “Drink the ice water, Sofia. Take the pills. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

And, not seeing a reason not to, I obeyed his orders.

Chapter Six

Dakvaar

I woke before dawn, my Kteer already humming with unease. The house was silent except for the soft hiss of the furnace and the occasional creak of settling wood. Normal, everyday sounds, made louder by the snow, which had been falling all night, now insulating the windows in thick, silent drifts.

I sat there in the hallway, listening.

Rosa’s breathing was deep and even, the way only a child’s could be—unburdened, untroubled. Good.

But Sofia…

I pushed myself to my feet, stifling my groan. I was too old to be sleeping on the ground like this, but it had seemed impossible not to. Last night, the need to watch over both females had been visceral, something that went deeper than even my Kteer, so I’d settled in to keep watch.

After a few quick stretches, I pressed my palm against the wall of the corridor and tipped my head toward the cracked-open door of the guest room, where Sofia’s breathing was shallow. Her scent was warm and familiar, but laced with something sharp and wrong.

Fever.

I pushed the door open wider. She was tangled in the blankets, one arm flung above her head, the other—her injured wrist—cradled against her chest. Her skin was too hot, flushed even in the dim light filtering through the curtains.