Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Anna
My heart hammers as Kelt parks and we all climb out. The cold bites through my coat. I follow Keric up wide stone steps to enormous wooden doors carved with intricate designs—trees, mountains and what might be wolves or bears.
Kelt pushes the heavy doors open and warmth rushes out.
Inside, the Great Lodge is even more impressive, with vaulted ceilings, exposed beams and a fireplace big enough to roast a whole cow. Comfortable-looking furniture is scattered around with woven rugs underneath.
At least a dozen orcs are scattered throughout the space. All of them turn to stare when we enter.
At me.
I freeze.
Keric’s hand finds my lower back again, steadying. “It’s okay. They’re just curious.”
Curious. Right. I’m the new human, the one their scary Irontree brought home. Of course they’re staring.
A older orc approaches. He’s massive even by orc standards, with silver streaking his black hair and scars across his arms. His horns are thick and authority radiates from him like heat.
“Rogan Overlook,” Keric says formally. “This is Anna Lee.”
Rogan’s dark eyes study me, not unkindly, but thoroughly. “Keric vouches for you. That’s enough for me.” His voice is deep, resonant. “You’re under our protection now. No one will harm you here.”
“Thank you,” I manage. “I... I really appreciate—”
“No need for speeches.” He waves a large hand. “You’re safe. That’s what matters. There’s no need for you to hide anymore. Welcome to the commune, Anna Lee.”
It’s the first time someone’s used my real name without it feeling like a threat. My vision blurs and I blink hard, refusing to cry in front of all these orcs. “Thank you,” I say again, quieter.
Rogan nods and steps back. “Keric, get her settled. She looks exhausted.”
“I’m fine,” I protest automatically. “I slept on the plane.”
“You still need some rest after the time change,” a female voice says.
I turn and see a woman approaching. She’s younger than me, maybe late twenties, with blonde hair and a warm smile. And she’s very pregnant.
“I’m Drew,” she says, reaching me. “Another Bride. Oh, you’re going to love it here!”
“I’m not... we’re not...”
Drew’s smile widens knowingly. “Sure you’re not. Welcome anyway, Anna. If you need anything, anything at all, find me. The Brides look out for each other.”
She pulls out her phone and I pull out the burner phone, which is now my new phone I suppose. We exchange numbers, just like that, as if I’m joining a club.
“We’ll meet up an have coffee soon,” Drew continues. “I’ll introduce you to the others. There are about sixty of us. You’ll fit right in.”
“I’m not staying,” I blurt out. “I mean, I don’t know how long I’ll be here. This is just... temporary.”
Drew and Keric exchange a look I can’t read. “Of course,” Drew says gently. “Just temporary. But coffee anyway, right? We’d love to meet you, no matter how long you end up staying.”
“Right. Thank you.”
She squeezes my arm and waddles back to where a massive orc waits, watching her with obvious adoration.
“Ready?” Keric asks. “I’m going to take you to my cabin.”
I nod, not trusting my voice.
Keric’s hand stays on my lower back as we leave the Great Lodge. The warmth from inside fades the moment we step out onto the wide porch. I shiver, pulling my coat tighter.
“Cold?” he asks.
“I’m fine.”
He makes a sound that suggests he doesn’t believe me but doesn’t argue.
Keric leads me toward a vehicle parked near the steps. It looks like an oversized electric golf cart. It’s surprisingly new and high-tech looking—two rows of seats up front, a flatbed in back for hauling. Nothing like the beat-up golf carts I’ve seen at parks back home.
“This is what you drive around here?” I ask.
“Kelt drove us inside with his SUV but he’s going to drive it back out now and park it in the main garage that is just outside the gates.
Cars aren’t allowed within the commune,” Keric explains, opening the passenger door for me.
“We mainly use solar and wind power out here, so we walk or use these electric carts. The cars are saved for longer trips.”
I climb inside the passenger seat of the open-air vehicle, with a roof on top and a windshield in front. The seat is comfortable and the interior is clean. Keric rounds the front and slides into the driver’s seat, his large frame making the cart suddenly feel smaller.
The engine starts with barely a whisper, just a soft electric hum. We pull away from the Great Lodge and I watch it disappear behind us as we follow a narrow gravel path, past rows of large cabins and deeper into the forest.
“How far away is your cabin?” I ask.
“On the outskirts. About fifteen minutes.”
Soon, we pass more cabins that aren’t in tight rows but are instead scattered among the trees. Some have lights glowing in windows. Smoke curls from chimneys. I catch glimpses of orcs through windows—cooking, reading, living normal lives.
“Everyone really does just... live here?” I ask. “Full time?”
“Most of us. Some go back and forth to human settlements for work. But this is home.”
“And that huge fence I saw earlier encircles this entire commune?”
“Yes, it does. It was built over many generations, and we still maintain it.”
The path narrows further. The cabins are farther apart now, with more space between them. “You said your cabin is on the outskirts,” I say slowly. “How far out?”
“Far enough.” His hands are steady on the wheel. “I prefer privacy.”
“Because you’re the ‘scary Irontree’ everyone avoids?”
His jaw tenses. “Because I like quiet.”
I study his profile. The strong line of his jaw. The way his horns sparkle in the sunlight. The crooked nose that somehow makes him more attractive, not less. “I was just teasing. And for what it’s worth,” I say quietly, “I don’t think you’re scary.”
He glances at me, something unreadable in his dark eyes. “Orcs can still be scary.”
My mind wanders back to that day when Garlen Irontree lost his mind and raced across town, half naked, ready to kidnap Ellie right off the street. That was certainly scary. The other Irontrees brought chains to restrain him, but the only thing that calmed him down was Ellie’s touch.
“We’re stronger. Faster. When we lose control—” He cuts himself off, grip tightening on the wheel. “You know. You were there when the Winter Frenzy happened to Garlen. You’ll be safe with me though, but you need to remember what you’re dealing with.”
“I’m starting to get the picture.”
The trees close in around us now. We’ve left the main commune behind completely. It’s just forest here—dense, wild, beautiful. The path is barely more than two ruts in the ground. I look around, not seeing even a glimpse of the perimeter fence that must be out there somewhere.
“Almost there,” Keric says.
And then I see it.
His cabin emerges from the trees like something out of a storybook. Solid logs, large windows, a wide porch. Smoke curls from the chimney. It’s isolated, surrounded by forest on all sides, but it’s not rough or primitive.
Keric parks the cart near the porch steps and kills the engine. The sudden silence is deafening.
“This is it,” he says quietly. “Home.”
I stare at the cabin and my heart hammers in my chest. “It’s beautiful,” I whisper.
“Come on.” He climbs out, grabs my go-bag from the back. “Let me show you inside.”
I follow him up the porch steps. Keric unlocks the front door and pushes it open, gesturing for me to enter first.
The inside is even better than the outside.
It’s warm and inviting. A fire crackles in a stone fireplace.
The main living space is open, with comfortable-looking furniture sized for an orc but not unwelcoming.
The kitchen area to one side, surprisingly modern.
There’s a loft above and a hallway beyond the living area.
Everything is tidy, organized, masculine. It smells like woodsmoke and leather.
“I haven’t been here since I moved out to Truckee with Garlen and the others. Some of the other orcs came in ahead of us today, dusted, lit a fire for us and stocked the kitchen for us too.”
“Oh, that’s really nice of them.”
“There’s only one bedroom and it’s yours,” he says abruptly, setting my bag down.
“Oh, I hadn’t even thought of that yet.” I turn. “Where will you sleep?”
He nods toward the couch. “There.”
I look at the couch. Then at him. He’s easily seven feet tall, maybe more. Broad shoulders, massive frame. “You’re too big for that couch.”
His mouth quirks. “I’ll manage.”
“Keric—”
“The bedroom is yours,” he repeats, firm but gentle. “That’s not negotiable.”
Something in his tone makes me pause. “Wait.” My brain catches up. “Why do I need to live with you? Can’t I have my own place, somewhere else on the commune? That way you don’t have to be inconvenienced and squeeze onto that couch.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Unmated females don’t live alone on the commune. It’s not safe, and it’s not our custom.”
“But—”
“You’re under my protection as my mate. That means you stay with me.”
“You said that before, that I’m your mate.
” My heart hammers. “Keric, I have feelings for you. I do. Before all of this happened, when we were sitting together at the wedding, I gave you my number because I was hoping you’d ask me out and we could get to know each other better.
But I’m not ready for... being mates means forever, right?
I have to admit I’m not ready to be thinking of all of that right now.
I’m in danger. This isn’t a vacation, this is a DIY witness protection and I—”
“Anna.” He steps closer, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off him. “Breathe.”
I do. Barely.
“The bedroom is yours,” he repeats. “I’ll take the couch. You’ll have privacy, space, time. But leaving my protection? That’s not an option I can give you.”
“So I’m trapped here.”
His brow furrows. “You’re not trapped here. You chose to come to this commune with me and you know it’s safe here. Technically you can leave at anytime, but I admit I’d follow you, discreetly from a distance because no matter what, I would still be making sure that you were safe.”
I shrug because what he’s saying doesn’t bother me in the least. “Okay,” I whisper.
His eyes widen slightly. “Okay?”
“For now. Until... until we figure this out.”
Relief floods his features. “Thank you.”
I look around the cabin again. My new, temporary home.
“I’ll make us some coffee,” Keric says, moving toward the kitchen.
I sink onto the couch, my legs suddenly shaky. Everything is catching up with me. The photos, the bus station, the flight, meeting Rogan and Drew and being here in this cabin with Keric.
His mate.
I watch him move around the kitchen. He pulls out a bag of whole beans, grinds them and then puts them into a metal coffee strainer. He’s surprisingly competent with the expensive-looking coffee maker. Not what I expected from the “scary Irontree.”
“You like your coffee?” I comment.
He chuckles. “Yes, I do. It’s good to be home, using what I like best. I ended up getting coffee most days from a coffee shop I enjoyed in Truckee. How do you like your coffee?”
I tell him that I like sugar and creamer. In minutes he’s returned with two hot mugs.
He sits next to me on the couch.
I wrap my hands around the warm mug and finally ask the question that’s been burning in my brain since the bus station. “At the bus station, you said I was your mate. What does that mean, exactly?”
“For orcs, mate recognition is instinctive. When I pulled you back at the school, when Garlen lost control, I caught your scent. And I knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That you’re mine. The one female meant for me.”
My eyes narrow. “Wait, does this mean that you’re going to need to be chained when you’re around me like Garlen did, concerning Ellie?”
“No,” he grins. “No. You don’t have to worry about that. It’s not winter and instead the spring.”
I sip my coffee, thinking, processing.
“There are things you need to know about orc biology,” he says. “About what being mates means.”
“Like what things?”
He’s quiet for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “Fertility. Permanence. The bond between mates.”
“Fertility. You mean pregnancy.”
“Yes.”
“How fast?”
“With mates... immediately.”
I bite at my lip. “This is too much. I just needed somewhere to hide. I didn’t sign up for…”
“Anna.” His voice is still gentle. Still patient. “You’re safe here. That’s what matters right now. The rest... we’ll figure out.”
“I can’t get pregnant,” I say desperately. “Not now. Not like this. Not when people are trying to kill me.”
“I know. This isn’t how I want us to start either.”
“So we can’t—”
“I know,” he repeats. “And we won’t. Not until we’re both ready.”
“But we’re living together. In a one-bedroom cabin.”
“Yes.”
“And you think we’re mates.”
“I know we are.”
I laugh. It comes out harsh, a little hysterical. “This is insane.”
“Yes.” A hint of a smile. “But you’re safe. And that’s what matters.”