Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

J ana wrapped her arms around herself as she stared at the massive orc kneeling beside her. An orc. An actual orc with green skin and a long dark braid and gleaming white tusks. As impossible as it seemed it only confirmed her earlier conviction that she was no longer on Earth.

His presence was both terrifying and reassuring after hours alone in this alien forest. Green eyes met hers and an odd rush of warmth flooded her body. She blinked hard, trying to process her reaction. Nothing made sense - not the weird purple-tinged moss coating the boulder next to her, not the impossibly large wolf who’d attacked her, and certainly not the huge orc warrior who’d just saved her life.

“May I?” he asked, gesturing at her arm.

His deep voice carried a strange accent, but the English was clear enough. An orc who spoke English. Her mind reeled again and her fingers tightened on the branch she still clutched.

“I’m… okay. They’re just scratches.”

The words came out hoarse and he didn’t look convinced.

A twig snapped somewhere in the darkness and she flinched. He turned his head, his big body blocking her view of whatever lurked in the shadows. The scent of leather and woodsmoke clung to him, along with something she couldn’t identify, and beneath her fear and confusion, something deep inside her responded to that scent.

He glanced back at her, quickly averting his eyes from her bare skin.

“I have a camp nearby. Fire, food, spare clothes.”

She picked nervously at the rough vines she’d woven together. The makeshift dress wasn’t much, but at least it covered the essentials. Mostly. She’d found the bush with the large waxy leaves soon after she’d started down the mountain - another plant she didn’t recognize - and stopped long enough to construct the outfit.

She’d walked for what seemed like hours until her bare feet began to ache, covered with tiny cuts and bruises. She hadn’t encountered anyone before the sun started to dip towards the horizon, casting long shadows through the trees, and she’d reluctantly decided she needed to find shelter.

She’d still been searching for a likely place when the fine hairs on the back of her neck suddenly rose, as if someone was watching her. She turned in a circle but couldn’t make out anything in the uncertain light beneath the trees. Leaves rustled, too deliberate to be the wind. Her skin prickled with goosebumps as she slowly turned her head toward the sound. The dense foliage revealed nothing, but she felt it - eyes watching her, tracking her movements.

Heart pounding, she picked up a fallen branch, hefting it like a club. The weight felt reassuring in her hands, though she wasn’t sure how much good it would do against whatever lurked in the shadows. She started moving again, trying to watch the foliage behind her and search for some type of shelter at the same time.

Darkness crept through the forest. Her pulse thundered in her ears, drowning out the evening sounds of birds and insects, but she kept moving. Every time she stopped, she heard rustling behind her.

As if I’m being herded , she thought despairingly as she stumbled over a rock and came to a halt.

The leaves rustled again, this time accompanied by a low growl.

Oh God.

Every instinct screamed at her to run, but she remembered reading somewhere that running could trigger a predator’s chase response. More growls emerged from the underbrush, and her hands trembled as she raised her makeshift weapon.

A flash of movement caught her eye - a darker shadow against the darkness beneath the trees. Her breath caught on a sob as the creature emerged from the forest. It looked similar to a wolf but far larger than any wolf she’d ever seen, its head almost level with hers. It stalked towards her, moving with a predator’s fluid grace, and moonlight glinted off razor-sharp teeth as its lips pulled back in a snarl.

“Stay back,” she whispered, her hands shaking on the branch.

The beast’s eyes locked onto her - intelligent, hungry eyes. It took another step forward, muscles rippling beneath its grey fur. Her throat closed up as terror coursed through her veins, but she wouldn’t go down without a fight. She gripped the branch tighter as the beast crouched, ready to swing the branch with every ounce of strength she had left.

“Come on then,” she hissed through clenched teeth.

Time slowed as the creature gathered itself, haunches tensing. She saw the exact moment it decided to strike, launching itself at her throat in a dark blur of fur and claws. Pure instinct drove her to swing the branch as hard as she could, and the wood connected with a solid thunk against its nose.

The beast recoiled with a snarl, but not before its claws raked down her arm. She cried out as white-hot pain blazed across her skin. Warm blood trickled down to her elbow but she ignored it as she tightened her grip on the branch.

The creature shook its huge head, recovering from the blow. Cold fury blazed in those too intelligent eyes and her stomach dropped - she wouldn’t get lucky twice. The beast’s muscles bunched as it prepared to spring again.

A massive figure suddenly burst out of the trees, moonlight glinting off a raised sword. She stumbled backwards, stumbling over the rock again and this time she went down. White-hot pain radiated from her ankle but she was too shocked to react, sure her terror was making her hallucinate. But no - an orc stood between her and certain death, his broad shoulders blocking her view of the predator. He swung the huge sword with fluid grace as he positioned himself protectively in front of her.

He yelled something in a harsh, guttural language she couldn’t understand, gesturing behind him. She choked back a sob - she couldn’t move even if she wanted to. She gripped her branch, torn between relief and a new wave of fear at her impossible savior.

Powerful muscles flexed beneath deep green skin as he wielded the sword with practiced precision. The beast lunged, but the orc pivoted, using the beast’s momentum against it. His movements held a deadly grace that seemed impossible for someone his size.

Dirt and leaves scattered as the two circled each other, both sure-footed despite the uneven ground. He always kept himself between her and the creature, never letting it circle around to reach her. Each clash sent vibrations through the clearing - metal against claw, strength against savage fury.

Her racing heart slowed from blind panic to something closer to awe as she watched.

This couldn’t be real. Orcs didn’t exist. They belonged in fantasy novels and games, not in the forests of South Carolina.

Except this isn’t South Carolina, and there’s an orc in front of me.

Blood still trickled down her arm, but the pain felt distant now as she struggled to process what her eyes were seeing. The orc fought with controlled fury, each strike calculated despite the savagery behind it. He used the trees to his advantage, forcing the beast into tighter quarters where its size worked against it.

A particularly fierce clash sent both combatants reeling back. She gasped as the wolf’s claws caught the moonlight, missing the orc’s chest by inches. Her defender responded with a roar that shook leaves from the branches overhead, the sound awakening something primal in her chest.

The wolf responded to the roar as well, coming to a sudden halt. And then it was gone, fading into the woods as silently as if it had never been there.

And now the orc - Lothar - was kneeling next to her, his expression no longer fierce but concerned. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from his face. Green skin covered strong, angular features. A long dark braid hung over his shoulder, and her fingers itched to trace the delicate pattern woven into the leather thong holding it together. Two ivory tusks curved upwards, glinting in the moonlight.

But it was his eyes that mesmerized her. They glowed like polished emeralds, with a warmth that felt foreign yet familiar, like remembering a dream she never knew she’d had.

“Will you come to the camp?” he asked again, and she realized she’d been staring at him.

Heat rose to her cheeks, but she took a deep breath and nodded.

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