Chapter 3 Oren
Oren
I storm the main square, ready for this day to end. Every stride lands with enough force to rattle my bones, but I need it—the sharp ache in my thighs, the heat that still boils in my chest from a busy day on the training field.
At this hour, the settlement empties out quickly. Most are headed home for dinner or to the library for the weekly book club.
My mind is plotting the next week’s security drills when I turn a corner, and a blur of motion hits my peripheral.
The collision barely registers. It’s like colliding with a bird, except the impact nearly spins her off her feet.
She’s pushing a stroller. The contents of said stroller, an infant swaddled in purple, instantly starts wailing.
Time slows, then punches me in the face.
I grab the human by the arm to keep her from face-planting on the pavers. My hand nearly wraps the whole circumference of her upper arm. She looks up, mouth open, eyes wide and absurdly green. Not the icy green of an Orc’s war paint, but the kind that flashes in summer storms and never lets go.
I freeze as my cock turns to stone in my britches. Fuck. That’s unexpected.
For a second, all I see is her heart-shaped face, pale and flushed, framed by a loose halo of copper hair from the impact.
Then my gaze betrays me, dropping to where her long t-shirt clings to the generous swell of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the flare of her hips in those strange human yoga pants that somehow make her curves look even more pronounced.
There's an unfamiliar tick in my chest. My own heart has the gall to skip a beat as all the blood in my body heads straight to my cock.
She catches her breath, her lips parting as she holds my stare.
“You should watch where you’re going,” I snarl, but it comes out more guttural than intended.
It lands somewhere between a threat and a demand for an apology.
I let go of her, hand tingling. The child in the stroller keeps shrieking, and my nerves, already stretched taut, snap like a drawn bowstring.
The human straightens, refusing to flinch.
I half-respect that. She’s got backbone, or the world’s worst sense of self-preservation.
“Sorry,” she says, voice a little breathless.
“I didn’t see you.” She tries to smooth her hair but only makes it stand out more.
The baby’s wail climbs into ultrasonic territory.
“Obviously,” I grumble, because my brain has never learned the polite scripts and never will.
She kneels by the stroller and shushes the child, her tone gentle, her hands quick and practiced.
The baby’s howl ratchets down, replaced by hiccup sobs—human hiccup sobs.
It’s Ainsley, Aric’s new charge. The realization lands like a rock in my gut.
I should’ve figured that out immediately since there aren’t many humans pushing babies in strollers around the settlement, but this curvy little human turned my brain to mush the instant we collided.
I’m still standing over them, probably looming like a villain, shoulders squared, and every muscle locked in readiness for a threat that never comes. The human stands up, her eyes narrowing. “I’m Ella.” I ignore her outstretched hand.
“Oren,” I grunt as my nostrils flare, and I’m suddenly aware of the way her scent cuts through the air. It isn’t the heavy perfume that most humans slather on, but soap, lemon, and something earthy beneath.
She draws her hand back and wraps it around her middle. “Aric’s brother?” she asks.
“Yes,” I say, though my tone is less steel and more sandpaper now.
There’s a weird silence, heavy and charged, while I wait for my mind to wake the fuck up.
Ella breaks the stare, glancing down at the baby. “I need to get Ainsley home for her nap.” The infant, now distracted by the sound of her own hiccups, gurgles something that sounds halfway like “Argggg.”
I have no retort for that, so I just grunt, which is the universal sign for “conversation over.” My brain is already marching me away, but my feet don’t get the message. I stand there, locked in place by a force I can’t name, watching her tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
I realize I’m still staring. I force myself to look away, set my sights on the arch at the end of the square, and start moving. The first few steps feel wrong, like leaving the battlefield before the final blow.
I need a drink. And to figure out how one gorgeous human scrambled my goddamn circuits with a single collision.
I manage three steps before I realize I haven’t actually escaped. There’s a gravitational pull behind me.
I make it as far as the shadow of the west arch before I hear the sound of footsteps behind me. Not heavy. Not military.
Motherfucking Kolson. I don’t have to turn around to know. I know his gait and smell.
“Fancy seeing you here, Miss Blume,” Kol says, and I can picture his lips quirking into a charming smile. “I see you met Oren. I hope he didn’t scare you too much.”
I keep walking, but I listen. Old habit. Know your enemy, even if it’s your own kin.
Ella laughs, a sound not unlike rain tapping on glass. “Oh, I survived.” Her smoky voice sends a weird prickle down my spine.
The banter is effortless. I hate that. Kol is already winding her in, putting her at ease, making the whole collision seem like a comical prelude to friendship. Ella shifts her weight, tucks a strand of hair, ready to trade jokes with my goddamn brother.
They stand there talking, easy and light. I should be glad—Kol is the safest possible welcome wagon for a new-hire, especially one who’s supposed to integrate with Orc culture. But I can’t help the twist in my chest as I watch him do what I can’t.
I try to slip away, blend into the gathering dark, but I misjudge the angle and end up at a perfect vantage under the arch. I’m close enough to hear, far enough that they think I’m gone.
“Are you settling in all right?” Kol asks, and it sounds like he actually gives a shit. He’s good at that.
Ella sighs. “Honestly? It’s weird. But the room’s great, and Aric’s actually a lot less intimidating than I expected. The baby’s adorable. And you have the best library I’ve ever seen.”
Kol lets out a rumbling chuckle. There’s a moment where their laughter blends, and it’s… I don’t know, normal. Easy in a way that doesn’t exist in my world.
I want to break it up, but I also want to punch a hole in the nearest wall. Not knowing how to handle these strange feelings, I do something stupid. I stride back over, boots clacking sharply on the cobbles, and plant myself right between them.
Kol raises an eyebrow. “Need something, Oren?” he says, voice all velvet and knives.
“I—” I don’t have an answer. Meeting the gorgeous human has fried my goddamn brain circuits.
Ella watches us, her eyes flicking back and forth, reading the current but not the undertow.
Kol gives me a look. Not judgment, just… knowing. “Cat got your tongue?” Then he leans toward Ella, stage-whispering loud enough for the arch to echo it, “He’s not really that grumpy, you know. He just likes people to think he is.”
I grit my teeth, spitting out a warning, “Kolson.” Fucking hell. My goddamn mouth isn’t even connected to my brain. The one thing I do know is the thought of any other male touching this human makes me want to rip things to shreds. Starting with my dumbass brother.
He must sense the rage flowing through my veins because he raises his hands in mock surrender and steps back from her. “Just helping the new-hire acclimate.”
Ella stands there, caught between us, amusement and confusion wrestling for dominance on her face. She looks at Kol, then at me. “Do you guys do this a lot?”
“What?” Kol asks, deadpan.
“Bicker,” she says. “It’s like watching a ping-pong match, but one side keeps breaking the paddles.”
Kol barks a laugh, genuine. “That’s the Arch family in a nutshell. Welcome aboard.”
Ainsley gurgles again, and Ella bends to check her, hands expert and gentle. There’s something about the motion—the way she moves, unafraid and totally herself—that makes my own posturing feel even more idiotic.
Ainsley cranks up the volume, launching a wail straight from the pits of hell.
Ella scoops the baby out of the stroller like she’s snatching a grenade with the pin half-pulled.
She gives Kol a quick smile. “Sorry, meltdown incoming. I need to get her settled before she blows.” Then she tucks her hair behind her ear, turns that heart-shaped face toward me, and pushes the stroller away with a little sway in her hips that I can’t fucking unsee.
Kol waits until she’s almost out of earshot, then turns to me, voice low and smug.
“You’re in deep shit, brother.” As if I don’t already know it.
I glare at him, but he just grins wider.
“You’ve got the look of a male who just met his match.
” I barely resist the urge to pound my fist into his smiling face.
I should’ve torn his ass to shreds a few minutes ago.
Then I wouldn’t have to deal with his smart ass.
“Fuck off.” It’s the best my flummoxed mind can come up with.
Kol doesn’t let me escape with my weak-ass comeback. He sobers, all the bullshit and wisecracks ending. “You need to go easy with her, Oren. She’s had a hard fucking life.” The words hit me sideways, like he’s just chucked a brick at my head.
What the hell? “How do you know that?” I snap, but my brother just shakes his head, looking at me like I’m an idiot.
“Because I read her goddamn file before I approved her employment with Aric and Ainsley, unlike your dumb ass.” Kol folds his arms, muscles flexing under his polo. He’s not joking around anymore.
I open my mouth, ready to argue, but nothing comes out. The silence stretches. I kind of hate how much it bothers me. “She will be safe here on the Arch Orc Settlement.” I growl each word fucking clear as day before turning on my heel and getting the fuck out of there like my ass is on fire.
The universe hates me.