2. Kavin
Kavin
T he human next door is having an unruly party, and I’m unable to fall asleep the night before the first shift at my new job. Therefore, I stomp over to pound on the door and demand some peace and quiet.
Why did I take this apartment so close to humans? I could’ve moved in temporarily with Orgen from the Brewery who lives on acreage on the edge of town.
Orcs have recently begun moving to Spokane because it’s orc-friendly and the climate is perfect for our body temperatures.
The others who arrived before me bought homes on larger properties to give them peace and quiet from other humans.
I didn’t think this would be necessary. This apartment complex is extremely close to the fire station where I will be working and I’d decided this proximity was more important, so this is why I’m here.
And now I know this was wrong thinking. Tomorrow, I’m going to hire a real estate agent and start house hunting.
The fantastically beautiful, obviously drunk female who opened the door to the apartment next door hasn’t said a word yet in response to my demand that she turn down the music.
Long brown hair flows loose around her shoulders, catching the light from her apartment.
Sparkling blue eyes stare up at me with a hint of defiance.
Her skin glows and her lips are glossy and full, slightly parted in surprise.
She’s taller than most females I’ve met, athletic in build but delicate compared to my orc frame. The clothing she wears shows the lean muscle of someone who trains regularly. This female is not just beautiful, she’s formidable.
And I am inexplicably attracted to her.
This irritates me beyond measure. I did not come to Spokane to find a mate. I came here for my career, to establish myself as a firefighter in the human world, and possibly to search for any human relatives I might have. The last thing I need is a treacherous human female in my life.
And yet, I find myself entertaining the idea of taking this female to my bed and planting my seed in her womb. These types of destabilizing thoughts have never before entered my mind when meeting a female.
Why now?
I clench my jaw. Luckily, it’s only early fall. If this were the dark of winter, I would already have lost control completely, throwing back my head with a thunderous roar. She’d be in my arms, while I ran for the mountains to find a cave so I could keep her for weeks on end, making her mine.
But these are modern times and orcs don’t kidnap anymore.
“Do you live here?” I question, when she continues to silently stare at me. “Is this your apartment?”
She blinks out of her reverie. “Yes, this is where I live.”
Behind her, I can see into the small space.
Three other human females back away from the door, their eyes wide as they gaze at my horns and tusks.
The apartment appears to have the exact same floor plan as mine and is currently chaotic from their gathering.
Music still plays loudly. “Turn down the music,” I growl again, louder this time, letting authority fill my voice.
“I’m Kavin Irontree,” I repeat, wondering if they didn’t hear me clearly the first time.
“I live next door with a shared wall between us. It’s past midnight and I need to be at work in the morning. ”
The female’s blue eyes widen when I repeat my name. Does she know who I am? “Everyone out,” she says suddenly, turning to address her friends. “You heard him, we’re being too loud and he needs some sleep. We had fun, but the party’s over now. Thanks for coming, I’ll see you guys later.”
The music stops and I watch in amazement as my neighbor quickly complies with my demand and dismisses her friends without argument or negotiation. In my experience, humans—especially drunk humans—do not respond well to authority. Yet this one does, and I find myself both surprised and impressed.
Her friends gather their belongings quickly, shooting glances between her and me. I catch fragments of their whispered concerns as they collect coats and purses:
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“We don’t have to leave…”
“Text us when he’s gone.”
My neighbor reassures them with the quiet confidence of someone accustomed to handling herself. Even intoxicated, she clearly commands respect from her circle of friends.
As the other females file past me, I notice more details about my neighbor’s apartment. Everything is highly organized, despite the current party mess. Everything has its designated place. The discipline of someone with training.
I move aside as her friends exit, which causes me to enter the apartment and stand closer to the female.
I inhale her scent, which is intoxicating.
Heat spreads in my veins and I tamp it down quickly.
My fists clench as I remind myself of my vows.
I’ve seen what females can do to orc males, how they can destroy entire bloodlines with their betrayals.
I will not take a bride. Ever.
The last friend leaves, and the door is shut behind them and suddenly we’re alone in the entryway of her apartment.
Her eyebrow crooks. “You’re the new firefighter,” she comments. “My name is Mia Martin, and you got my job.”
“Your job?”
“I wanted that position you got. I trained for years for it and interviewed but lost it, to you. As I said, you got my job.”
I look around, suddenly understanding what she’s trying to tell me. “This drunken celebration with friends wasn’t a celebration at all?”
“No, they were here to help me when I was down. I was mad I didn’t get the job because I couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t get it, considering I’m highly qualified.”
“Heh, I can understand how that would be difficult,” I answer. “Maybe you’ll get the next opening.” I refrain from telling her how I was offered this position six months ago and given a hefty signing bonus for my move across country.
She lets out a bitter laugh. “There won’t be a next opening for years.
This was it.” Then she surprises me by stepping back, gesturing for me to follow her further into her apartment.
I find myself accepting, stepping into her small space.
The sudden intimacy of being alone with this female sets my body on high alert.
She moves to her small kitchen area and grabs a bottle of water. I notice she’s switching from alcohol, which shows good judgment. This female has discipline even when drinking.
“What are your qualifications?” I question, though part of me already knows they must be substantial.
“EMT with three years of field experience,” she begins, and I can hear the pride beneath her frustration. “National Guard service, including two deployments. I teach self-defense classes at Olympia Gym twice a week. Best marksman in the county, and I was born and raised in Spokane.”
I nod slowly, processing this information. Her credentials are impressive, more than impressive. She deserves to be angry.
“Your turn,” she challenges. “What makes you more qualified than me?”
It’s a fair question, and I answer honestly.
“Seven years of emergency response on my commune and in the county, including wildfire suppression and mountain rescue. Advanced medical certifications equivalent to paramedic level. Leadership experience in high-stress situations. Specialized training in using orc strength for heavy rescue operations.”
She studies me, and I can see her analytical mind working. “That’s…actually legitimate.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I thought maybe they hired you because you’re a powerful orc, even if you weren’t qualified at all. I thought you got the job simply because of your strength.”
The bluntness of her statement should offend me, but instead I respect her directness. “No. Though I understand why you might think that.”
“Why Spokane?” she asks, settling onto her oversized couch while she drinks more water.
I sit carefully on the edge of an opposite chair.
“It’s orc-friendly. Career opportunities.
The climate suits my physiology.” I don’t mention the possibility of finding human relatives living in the Pacific Northwest. That information feels too personal to share with a stranger, even one I find unexpectedly compelling.
“You have family here?”
“No.” The answer comes out sharper than intended, touching on wounds I’m not ready to examine.
She notices my reaction but doesn’t push, which I appreciate.
Instead, she looks at my arms, taking in the extensive tribal tattoos that cover them.
“I’ve never met an orc in real life before.
You’re bigger than I thought you’d be. And those are incredible,” she says pointing at my arms. “Traditional orc markings?”
“Yes. Each one represents significant life events, achievements, or family connections.” I roll my shoulders, making the intricate patterns shift in the light. “I do some tattoo work myself, actually. My best friend Talon has just opened a new orc tattoo shop, Heat & Ink, here in town.”
“You’re an artist too?”
“I’m adequate,” I respond. This might be false modesty, but I refrain from telling her that Talon often says I’m one of the best traditional markers he’s seen.
“So you steal jobs and create art,” she quips. “Talented guy.”
There’s humor in her voice now, which relieves some of the tension between us. But it also creates a different kind of tension, one that makes me acutely aware of how close we’re sitting, how small her apartment is, how her proximity affects my body temperature.
And I can scent her arousal for me filling the air between us.
This happens often, females becoming aroused in my presence, but I’ve learned over the years to never comment on it and ignore. This is in fact the first time in my life I’m pleased to know a female feels arousal for me.
But on the other claw, why would I care? I’m not ever going to take this any further than this short conversation we’re having today.
I watch her drink more water, ensuring she’s taking care of herself.
Mia Martin is not a stumbling drunk, but I have a feeling she’s highly talkative because her tongue is loosened from too much alcohol.
The protective instincts rising in me are unwelcome but undeniable.
This female might be trouble, but she’s also alone and intoxicated, and every part of my training requires that I should ensure her safety.
“This job meant everything to me,” she quietly comments, vulnerability creeping into her voice. “It was supposed to be my future. Proof that this town wanted me, valued what I could contribute.”
Her pain is genuine, and it affects me more than it should.
I understand professional disappointment, the sting of having qualifications overlooked.
But there’s something deeper in her voice, a need for belonging that resonates with my own.
“You’re obviously qualified,” I tell her.
“Any department would be lucky to have you. You could look outside of this county, widen your search.”
“But this is my home. I don’t want to leave.”
The silence stretches between us, heavy with things neither of us is saying. I should leave. I should return to my apartment, maintain distance, avoid complications. But something keeps me here a moment longer, watching her rehydrate, making sure she’s safe.
Memories float back to my own mother who abandoned my orc father and I when I was only an infant.
This betrayal destroyed my father, led to his alcoholism and eventual suicide.
I swore I would never trust a human female, never allow one close enough to cause such devastation.
Most of them cannot be trusted to form true a commitment to an orc.
I’ve seen some at my compound who remain and truly love their mate and child, but I’ve also seen many who, after that initial rush of passion, want nothing to do with orcs ever again.
I can’t trust this female, or any female for that matter. It’s better that I simply remain alone.
But this one does seem strong and competent. Possibly the kind of human who stays and fights rather than runs when things get difficult.
I shake my head. No. These thoughts are dangerous and also stupid. I’m here for my career, not to question the vows of celibacy that have kept me safe since I came of age. “I should go,” I say, standing abruptly. “I have an early morning shift.”
“I’m off work tomorrow,” she comments and then looks up at me with those hypnotic blue eyes. “Thank you. Thank you for not calling building management or the police. For just…talking to me.”
I look away, determined to make my exit. “Lock your door after I leave. Drink more water before bed,” I order.
“Yes, sir ,” she says with an adorable smile.
This female is going to be trouble. The kind of trouble that could make me question everything I believe about human females. This is exactly why I am going to stay away and ignore her from now on. I will not take a mate.
I walk to her door, hyperaware of her watching me. My hand on the doorknob, I turn back once. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry you lost out on the position. You deserve better.”
Then I force myself to leave, walk the short distance to my own apartment and close the door firmly behind me.