Chapter 1 #2
Dr. Anna Lee, the confident professor who wore bold colors, taught Victorian literature and believed she could make a difference, died the night Jonas did.
The woman who replaced her, Anna Kim, is quiet and forgettable.
She keeps her head down, her hair short and her life small.
She doesn’t get close to people, doesn’t make friends and doesn’t go to weddings.
And she would never allow hope to blossom when a fierce orc with a crooked nose hands her his jacket.
But I did make one friend…Ellie.
And tonight, for just a few hours, I went further. I forgot to be afraid and keep my distance. I forgot that people who get close to me end up in danger.
The photo from the wedding is still on my living room floor. Me looking at Keric like he’s someone I could trust. Like he’s someone who could be… No.
I delete his messages without responding further and power down my phone.
They can track phones. Heat pricks behind my eyes.
I made the fatal error of allowing myself to grow close to Ellie and her daughter and now I’ve put them both in danger.
I won’t put Keric in danger too. Enough of this dawdling. I’ve got to get going.
One final sweep of the apartment, checking for anything that could identify me, anything that links Anna Kim the teacher to Dr. Lee. My hand lands on my faculty ID for Black Oak Academy. Professional photo, hair in that severe bob, tortoiseshell glasses. Anna Kim printed across the bottom.
I drop it on the counter. Let them find it. Let them think Anna Kim is running scared, leaving everything behind. Let them wonder which identity I’ll use next.
They’re not wrong about the running scared part.
In the bathroom, I stare at myself in the mirror.
Short black hair, no makeup, Keric’s leather jacket swallowing my frame.
I look exhausted and defeated, exactly like someone who’s been running for three years and just found out it was all for nothing.
I let out a bitter laugh.
At least my skin looks good.
I refocus and shrug off the jacket. I can’t take anything that connects me to them.
I drape it carefully over the back of my desk chair, smoothing out the creases.
My fingers linger on the worn leather. “I’m sorry,” I whisper to the empty room.
Sorry I can’t call him, can’t explain. I’m about to disappear and he’ll think.
.. what? That I’m flaky? Rude? That whatever connection we had was all in his head? Better that than him dead.
I grab my plain black, waterproof coat and shoulder my go-bag.
One last look at my apartment. The photos are still scattered on the floor, evidence of Dr. Lee’s past spread across Anna Kim’s present.
The box they came in sits on my coffee table like a threat.
I should burn it all, but I can’t risk the smoke, the attention.
I’ll leave it. Let whoever finds it deal with the cleanup.
The FBI is probably still looking for me.
The thought makes me laugh, sharp and humorless.
They’ve been searching for three years—the witness who ran with all the evidence.
I have zero trust though, considering Jonus died right after he’d gone to them.
I’m the missing piece of their investigation and here I am, about to disappear even deeper because I made a friend and went to a wedding and caught feelings for an orc.
Not just any orc. Keric Irontree, who everyone avoids because he’s supposedly “scary,” which is total nonsense considering he made sure I got back inside the school building safely when Garlen lost control. He stood so close I felt the heat coming off his body, but not so close that I felt trapped.
I’m going to miss him and Ellie and my life in Truckee, the students and my job too. All of it. But there’s no time for regrets or what-ifs or any other pathetic emotions.
It’s after midnight now and I’m wearing a long, puffy coat and sensible boots.
The snowy streets are mostly empty, just a few cars passing, a couple stumbling home from a bar two blocks over.
I keep my head down, hands in my pockets and move with purpose but not urgency.
I’ve left my car behind because the bus station is only a twenty-minute walk.
I’ve timed it before, mapped three different routes, identified cameras, blind spots and places to run if I need to.
Paranoid? Maybe. But paranoid people survive.
The misty rain starts around block five. By block ten, it’s a steady drizzle. My teeth are chattering, but I don’t care. Rain turns into snow which means fewer people outside and fewer cameras that actually work.
The bus station glows ahead like a beacon, too bright, too exposed, but it’s my best option.
Car rentals require licenses that might get flagged.
Hitchhiking is too risky. The bus is anonymous, paid in cash, no questions asked.
Inside, the station smells like stale coffee.
A handful of travelers are scattered across hard benches, everyone carefully not making eye contact.
I buy a ticket to Sacramento which is three hours south, big enough to disappear in, small enough that the FBI might not think to look there first. I’ll switch to a train, then maybe a bus north, zigzag my way to... somewhere.
Now I sit and wait. My go-bag sits between my feet, familiar and heavy.
I pull out a protein bar I don’t want and force myself to eat.
Can’t run on empty. The woman across from me cries softly into her phone.
Someone else is passed out, snoring, on a bench.
A teenager with purple hair and more piercings than I can count is curled up in a corner, headphones in. We’re all running from something.
The departure board updates. My bus leaves in ten minutes.
I pull out my new burner phone, paid for in cash at a convenience store three blocks from my apartment, and I stare at the blank screen.
I have Keric’s number memorized and written down.
I should’ve forgotten it the moment he gave it to me.
Should’ve deleted it immediately instead of saving it and then staring at it like a lovesick teenager.
I’m thirty-two years old and I’ve been staring at a phone number like it’s a lifeline. Maybe it is.
I pull up the photo app on my old phone, the one I’ll ditch as soon as I get on the bus.
There’s exactly one picture I took tonight.
Keric’s jacket on my desk chair, the leather catching the light, evidence of the best evening I’ve had in three years.
I send it to myself at an encrypted email address, then delete it from my phone.
One reminder that for a few hours, I was something more than Dr. Lee the witness or Anna Kim the ghost.
“Now boarding for Sacramento,” the speaker crackles.
I stand, shouldering my bag. This is it. Last chance to call the FBI, turn over the evidence, ask for help. Nope, I’m on my own again this time. It’s safer for everyone I care about, including myself.
I head toward the gate, falling in line with the other passengers.
The driver checks tickets, nods, waves us on. I’m three steps from the bus, from safety, from disappearing—
“Anna.”
I freeze because I know the deep voice. I turn slowly, already knowing what I’ll see.
Keric Irontree yells my name from the middle of the bus station.
He’s massive and unmistakable even in this crowd.
His twisted horns catch the fluorescent light.
His green skin looks darker under these harsh bulbs, more otherworldly.
He’s not wearing a shirt anymore, allowing everyone to see that massive chest and the tribal tattoos that sleeve both of his muscular arms. He looks like he’s been running.
Our eyes meet across twenty feet of dirty tile and scattered travelers. He moves outside, closer to me standing in line and doesn’t look angry or confused, instead he looks relieved. And determined.
“Ma’am?” The bus driver is waiting, impatient. “You boarding or not?”
I should get on the bus. Should run in order to protect him, Ellie and Zoe by disappearing. But my feet won’t move.
Keric marches toward me, cutting through the space between us with that confident stride I remember from the school, when he pulled me to safety.
People move out of his way automatically, not because he’s threatening, but because there’s something about this massive orc with the black horns, tusks and the crooked nose that demands space.
He stops three feet away, rivulets of water running down his bare chest. “You don’t get to disappear on me,” he says quietly, with that impossibly deep voice.
My throat tightens. “How did you find me?”
“Jonus tracked your phone. Then I tracked you.” Something flashes in his dark eyes. “I know you’re running, Anna. I found your apartment. I saw the photos.”
Oh god. He knows everything and he’s still here, standing in a bus station at two in the morning, looking at me like… “I’m dangerous,” I manage to croak out. “Being near me puts you, Ellie and Zoe in danger.”
“Yes,” he agrees. Simple, matter-of-fact. “So you run to me, not from me.”
I throw up my hands. “You don’t understand. That’s not how this works. That’s not how any of this—”
“I’m not asking.” His voice drops lower. It’s not quite a growl, but close enough. “You’re not getting on that bus.”
The driver honks. Last call.
“They’ll kill you,” I whisper. “They kill everyone who…” my eyes water and my voice cracks. “I can’t stay because I can’t let any harm come to Ellie and Zoe.”
“Then we make sure that doesn’t happen.” Keric takes one step closer. “Anna. Look at me.”
I do. Because apparently my self-preservation instincts have completely abandoned me.
“I’ve been watching you for months,” he says. “Waiting for you to see me the way I see you. And at the Wedding, for the first time, you did. You looked at me like I was someone who could—” He stops, jaw clenching. “I’m not letting you run. Not when I just found you.”
“You don’t understand what you’re asking.”
“Then explain it to me.” He holds out his large, rough hand. “Come with me. Tell me everything. And we’ll figure it out together.”
“There’s no figuring this out. They want information I have. They’ve already killed someone to get it. And now they’ve found me and they’re going to…” tears start to run down my cheeks.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take you somewhere they won’t find you.”
I blink and sniff, using the back of my hand to rub at my face. “What?”
“Maine.” Keric’s hand is still extended. “To the orc commune. One hundred thousand acres, highly secured, completely isolated. If you’re looking for somewhere to hide, that’s it.”
“I can’t drag you into this. I don’t want you to get hurt too.”
“Too late.” His mouth quirks, just slightly.
“You already did. The moment you looked at me like that at the wedding. The moment you let me give you my jacket. You think I’m walking away now?
And also, I’m an orc who’s pretty good at avoiding getting killed by criminals. I’ve made a career out of it.”
The bus driver leans on the horn, long and irritated. “Last call, lady!”
“Anna.” Keric’s voice is softer now. Gentler. “You’ve been running for years. How’s that working out?”
Not great, actually. Not great at all.
“What if I said I have a better plan?” he continues. “What if I said you could stop running and start fighting?”
“Fighting.” I almost laugh. “Against the kind of people who—”
“Yes.” He’s completely serious. “Fighting. With an entire family of orcs who specialize in protection. With resources in Maine you won’t have on your own. With me.” His hand is still there, waiting.
“You don’t even know me,” I whisper.
“I know enough.” Those dark eyes hold mine.
“I know you’re terrified and trying not to show it.
I know you were going to disappear rather than risk putting anyone else in danger.
I know you care more about protecting others than protecting yourself.
And I know—” He stops, swallows hard. “I know you’re my future Bride. ”
My mouth drops open. I step forward. The bus pulls away from the gate, leaving without me. “Your what?”
“I’ll explain later.” Keric steps closer, his hand still extended. “Right now, you need to choose. Get on the next bus and keep running. Or trust me.”
Trust him? Trust an orc I barely know.
He wants me to give up control and stop running. Everything in me screams to refuse. I should push him away and protect him by disappearing, but I’m so tired of running and his hand is right there, strong and steady and offering something I haven’t had in years.
Help.
And I’m super curious about him saying he thinks I’m his Bride.
So I take his hand.
His fingers close around mine, warm and solid. Relief floods his features. “Good choice,” he says roughly.
“I reserve the right to change my mind. The bottom line is I will do what’s right for everyone else to stay safe and that might include me leaving on a moment’s notice.”
“Noted.” He doesn’t let go. “We need to move. Is this all you have?” He gestures at my go-bag.
“Yes.”
“Then let’s go. Jonus is waiting outside.” He leads me through the bus station, his grip on my hand firm but not tight. Like he’s afraid I’ll bolt.
He’s not wrong.
We’re almost to the exit when I stop, yanking him to a halt. “Keric.”
He turns, concerned.
“You have to understand, if I stay with you, they’ll come after everyone at that wedding because they’ll know they can use them to get to me. Ellie. Garlen. Zoe. Everyone who was in that photo. I can’t just leave and go to Maine, leaving them behind to get hurt.”
His jaw sets. “Already handled. Garlen and Dane are on it. By morning, everyone will know to be careful and we’ll keep them safe. And you’ll be on your way to Maine.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
I should argue again and protest, should do literally anything except follow this orc out into the rain and trust that he can keep me safe when no one else could. But I’m still holding his hand.
And when we step out into the cold pre-dawn air, Jonus Irontree waits by a big SUV that screams “orc family vehicle” and he grins when he sees us. “Found her,” he says cheerfully. “Excellent.”
“Keys,” Keric growls.
Jonus tosses them over. “Back seat’s already set up with blankets and pillows. Figure she’ll want to sleep. It’s a long drive to the airport.”
Airport? This is really happening.
Keric opens the back door for me.
“Why?” I ask. “Why are you doing this?”
He’s quiet for a moment, studying my face like he’s memorizing it. “Because you’re mine to protect.”