Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
J ana walked alongside Lothar as they slowly made their way through the forest. The cool mountain air filled her lungs, carrying the scent of pine and the wild herbs she was slowly learning to identify in this strange new world.
He walked close enough to catch her if she stumbled but with enough space to move independently, and she found his presence reassuring rather than stifling. Every few steps, she caught him glancing her way, checking on her progress while trying to be subtle about it.
“And then Wulf actually fell into the stream,” he said, gesturing dramatically. “Completely soaked, still holding that tiny fish!”
She laughed, the sound echoing through the trees. His stories about his brothers painted such vivid pictures, she could almost see them. The way he spoke of them, full of love and mischief, made her heart ache with a peculiar longing. And yet, remembering his words from the previous night, she suspected that there was sorrow mixed in as well.
When her foot caught on a root, his hand immediately shot out to steady her, but he didn’t grab her - just offered support until she found her balance. The careful way he respected her boundaries while still protecting her touched something deep inside.
“The path gets a bit steeper here,” he warned, pointing ahead. “We can rest if you need to.”
“I’m fine,” she assured him, though her ankle twinged slightly.
That sense of urgency - the need to find answers - hadn’t disappeared, even though she was enjoying the journey itself. Enjoying his company.
He launched into another tale about a festival gone hilariously wrong, his deep voice accompanying them as they descended the mountain together. She found herself sneaking glances at him as well, enjoying the way his smile transformed his face and the warmth in his eyes when he caught her looking at him.
By the time he made camp for the night, her muscles ached from the day’s journey, but it was a satisfying kind of exhaustion. She watched as he worked, his big hands quick and sure as he spread their bedroll and arranged kindling and larger branches for a fire. The sun dipped behind the mountains, painting the sky in deep purples and oranges.
A shiver ran through her as the temperature dropped. Without thinking, she edged closer to the fire he’d built, and then closer to him. She stared into the flames, acutely aware of his presence beside her, his warmth radiating like a beacon. The fire cast flickering shadows across his strong features, highlighting the sharp angles of his tusks. Her heart raced as she made her decision.
Taking a deep breath, she shifted even closer and deliberately rested her head against his broad shoulder. His body tensed for a moment in surprise, then relaxed. His arm settled around her shoulders, gentle and unconfining. The weight of it felt right, natural, as if they’d done this a hundred times before.
She waited for the panic to set in - that suffocating feeling of being trapped that had haunted her for so long. But it didn’t come. Instead, she slowly relaxed against him, the gentle rise and fall of his breathing and the steady thump of his heart creating a soothing rhythm. She breathed in his scent - leather and pine and something uniquely him that she’d come to associate with safety.
“Cold?” His voice rumbled through his chest where her head rested.
She shook her head. The truth was, she hadn’t felt this comfortable in years. The fire’s warmth wrapped around them like a cocoon, but it was his presence that truly made her feel secure. His thumb traced lazy circles on her shoulder, and she melted further into his embrace.
The crackling fire and chirping night insects created a peaceful backdrop as they sat in comfortable silence. She idly traced the hem of his shirt with her finger, marveling again at how natural this felt. How right.
The realization hit her then - how much she’d been starving for this kind of gentle touch, this easy affection. Her throat tightened as her emotions welled up, threatening to overwhelm her. She’d kept herself isolated for so long, building walls to keep everyone at a safe distance. Yet here she was, those same walls crumbling in the presence of this unlikely protector.
They reached Port Cael late the following afternoon. Her breath caught as they reached a ridge overlooking the town. It was stretched along the edge of a deep blue fjord, its waters reflecting the afternoon sun. Stone buildings with steep-pitched roofs clustered along winding streets, their windows glinting in the light. Down by the harbor, colorfully painted wooden buildings rose three or four stories high, larger than she’d expected. Ships with carved dragon heads bobbed in the harbor, their sails furled.
As beautiful as it appeared, it also reminded her of how far she was from home. No power lines crossed the sky. No cars moved through the streets. The smoke rising from chimneys came from wood fires, not industrial stacks.
A gust of wind whipped her hair around her face, and she wrapped her arms around herself, chilled by both the breeze and the reminder that she was in another world.
Lothar pulled a heavy cloak out of his pack and draped it over her shoulders. The wool was rough but warm, smelling faintly of him, and she was grateful for the additional layer. She was still wearing one of his shirts, now tucked into a pair of his pants that he’d cut off and tied around her waist with a brightly colored sash. It was better than being naked but she suspected it was far from flattering.
“Stay close to me when we enter the town,” he said quietly. “I will not allow anyone to hurt you, but human females are not common here.”
She nodded and pulled the cloak tighter, suddenly feeling exposed even though no one in the town below had glanced up in their direction. She could see people moving through the streets - all of them much larger than her. Some had green skin like Lothar, others were pale or dark, but none looked quite human. The unfamiliar architecture and strange people should have terrified her, but his solid presence at her back made her feel oddly secure.
She turned to face him, tilting her head back to meet his eyes. The warmth in his eyes caused a corresponding warmth to unfurl in her chest. Without thinking, she rose on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his.
For one perfect moment, everything clicked into place - but then she realized he’d gone completely still. She pulled back, studying his face.
“What’s wrong?”
His jaw clenched, muscles tight.
“I’m trying to control myself. Don’t want to frighten you again.”
The memory of their kiss by the stream flashed through her mind - how right it had felt until his arms had tightened around her. But this was different. She wasn’t trapped or confined. She was choosing this.
“I’m not afraid,” she whispered, reaching up to trace one of his tusks. “Not of you.”
She kissed him again, gentle at first. This time he responded, his lips moving against hers as one large hand came up to cradle the back of her head. The bond between them pulsed, and her heart raced. His tongue teased her lips, coaxing them apart, and she opened eagerly.
The taste of him filled her senses and heat pooled in her core, making her ache for him. His other arm went around her, gently pulling her close as the kiss deepened. He was careful, so very careful, not to hold her too tightly, but she wanted to melt into him, wanted his strong arms to surround her.
His tusks should have been awkward but somehow they weren’t, and when they finally broke apart, she was breathless and trembling, her head spinning. He kept his arm around her, supporting her as she steadied herself with a hand on his chest, feeling his heart thundering beneath her palm. His eyes were dark with desire as he looked down at her, and she felt an answering warmth curl through her body.
“Are you sure that was a good idea?” he asked hoarsely.
She frowned at him.
“Why would you say that?”
“I don’t want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable.”
He was giving her an out, a way to pretend it had been an impulse or a mistake. He understood that acknowledging her attraction meant facing her own vulnerabilities. The thought terrified her, but for the first time in years, she didn’t want to accept that she was broken.
“I was the one who kissed you,” she reminded him. “I don’t regret it. Do you?”
“Gods, no. But-”
She stopped his words with a kiss, quick and light, then stepped back.
“No buts.”
“We should head down to the town,” he said after a pause, though his voice was still rough.
“Yes, we should.”
As they made their way down off the ridge and into the winding streets of Port Cael, she tucked her hand in his arm, comforted by the powerful muscles beneath her hand.
Despite the strangeness of the buildings, the streets were surprisingly clean. There were a number of what looked like shops, each displaying their wares in small, clear windows. The first few doors were closed, but the next was open, revealing a shop that sold an assortment of household goods. She wanted to slow down and look around, but his earlier caution was enough to keep her moving.
As they made their way closer to the market by the harbor, the scents hit her first - exotic spices that tickled her nose, the sweet perfume of ripe fruit, and something savory that made her stomach rumble. The marketplace was a riot of color and motion. Vendors called out from behind stalls draped in vibrant fabrics, their wares displayed in neat rows. Fresh produce gleamed in wooden crates, and intricate handmade goods caught the sunlight.
But what really caught her attention were the people. Massive orc males dominated the crowd. Their builds varied from burly to lean, but all moved with surprising grace. The few orc females she spotted were tall and striking, their features softer than the males but no less commanding.
A small group of beings on the outskirts of the market caught her attention. Lean rather than muscular, their golden skin seemed to glow from within, and their silver hair sparkled as they moved. Their pointed ears and ethereal grace made them seem almost unreal.
“The People of the Plains,” he murmured following her gaze. “They are rare visitors.”
Before she could ask more questions, he was moving again. She noticed other humans scattered throughout the crowd - both men and a few women. They seemed at home in this world, but the way many of the males watched the women made her uncomfortable. Their gazes held such naked longing that she pressed closer to Lothar, grateful for his protective presence.
“Stay close,” he murmured in English, his arm tightening around her.
She nodded, her fingers digging into his arm as they ventured deeper into the marketplace.