Chapter 22 Falla
FALLA
Iwake to Ressa's fingers tracing the line of my collarbone, her touch light enough to make me shiver. Morning light filters through the window of my cabin—our cabin now—and turns her hair to burnished copper.
"You're awake early," I murmur, catching her hand and pressing a kiss to her palm.
"Couldn't sleep." She shifts closer, her bare skin warm against mine. "But that's okay. I kept thinking about how lucky I am."
"Lucky?" I raise an eyebrow. "You're the one who had to move all your things across the settlement because my cabin's less depressing than yours."
"Your cabin has windows that actually let in light. And a bed that doesn't creak every time someone breathes." She kisses my jaw. "And you. It has you in it."
The simple honesty in her voice still catches me off guard sometimes. Three weeks of waking up next to her and I'm not used to how freely she shares these small truths now. How she's learned to say what she feels instead of hiding behind walls.
"I'm the lucky one." I pull her on top of me, enjoying the way she fits against my body. "You could've chosen safety. Chosen to stay locked in that cabin where nothing could touch you. Instead, you chose this. Chose me."
"Best decision I ever made." She rocks her hips slightly, making me groan. "Even if it means putting up with your terrible jokes."
"My jokes are excellent."
"Your jokes are objectively awful." But she's grinning as she says it, her brown eyes bright with mischief. "Remember yesterday when you told Ursik that broken bone pun?"
"He laughed."
"He was being polite."
I roll us so she's beneath me, caging her in with my arms. "You're very mouthy this morning."
"You love my mouth."
"I do." I kiss her to prove it, slow and deep until she's breathless. "Every sharp-tongued word that comes out of it."
We stay like that for a while, trading kisses and touches that don't lead anywhere urgent. This is my favorite part of living with her—the quiet mornings where we have nowhere to be, nothing to prove. Just two people who chose each other learning how to build a life together.
Eventually, reality intrudes in the form of my stomach growling.
Ressa laughs against my mouth. "Breakfast?"
"Probably a good idea before I waste away."
She climbs out of bed with zero self-consciousness, completely comfortable being naked in front of me now.
I watch her move around the cabin, pulling on one of my shirts that falls to mid-thigh on her smaller frame.
The sight of her in my clothes, in my space, making tea like she belongs here—because she does—makes something warm settle in my chest.
"Stop staring," she says without turning around.
"I can't help it. You're distracting."
"I'm making tea. That's the opposite of distracting."
"You're doing it in my shirt. That's extremely distracting."
She glances over her shoulder, a small smile playing at her lips. "Your shirt is comfortable. And it smells like you."
The casual admission makes my heart do something stupid. "Keep wearing it then. I like how you look in it."
We eat breakfast together at the small table, her feet tucked under my thigh like she needs the constant contact.
She tells me about the project she's working on with Saela—some kind of water filtration system that will make the settlement's supply cleaner.
I watch her face light up as she explains the mechanics, how animated she gets when discussing something that interests her.
This is the Ressa most people don't get to see. The brilliant, curious woman who survived hell and came out the other side still wanting to build things, fix things, make the world better. She's not broken. Never was. Just wounded in ways that needed time and safety to heal.
"You're doing it again," she says.
"Doing what?"
"Looking at me like I'm something miraculous."
"You are." I catch her hand across the table. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I get to wake up next to you every morning. That feels pretty miraculous."
Her cheeks flush slightly, still not quite used to direct declarations. "You're going to make me insufferable with all this praise."
"Too late. You're already insufferable."
She throws a piece of bread at my head. I catch it and eat it, grinning at her outraged expression.
A knock on the door interrupts her retort. I groan, already knowing what it means.
"Don't answer it," Ressa suggests. "Pretend we're not home."
"They know we're home. They can probably hear us arguing through the door."
"It was worth a try."
I kiss her forehead as I pass, pulling on trousers before opening the door. Bronn stands on the other side, his expression grim in a way that makes my stomach sink.
"Need you at the healing house," he says without preamble. "Now."
"What happened?"
"Guards found human women in the woods. Multiple. They're in bad shape."
I glance back at Ressa, who's gone very still at the table, her knuckles white where they grip her teacup.
"Stonevein?" I ask, though I already know the answer.
"Looks like it. Probably dumped their prisoners after what Kai did, afraid of more retaliation." Bronn's jaw tightens. "They had more humans than we realized. Used them for..." He trails off, unwilling to finish the sentence in front of Ressa.
Sacrifices. Entertainment. All the things we suspected but couldn't prove.
"I'll be right there." I shut the door and turn to find Ressa already on her feet.
"How many?" she asks, her voice steady despite the tension in her shoulders.
"Bronn didn't say."
"Are they hurt?"
"Sounds like it."
She crosses to me, her hands framing my face. "Go. Help them. They need you."
"I'm sorry—"
"Don't apologize for being good at what you do." She kisses me firmly. "I'll be here when you get back. We'll talk about it then."
I search her expression for signs of panic or flashback, but find only determination. She's thinking about those women, about what they must have endured. About how someone helped her when she needed it most.
"I love you," I tell her.
"I know. Now go before I decide to keep you here selfishly."
I dress quickly, grabbing my healer's kit from the shelf by the door. Ressa watches me, her arms wrapped around herself, and I pause.
"You okay?"
"I will be." She manages a small smile. "Go save them like you saved me."
The words follow me out the door and across the settlement. Bronn sets a punishing pace, his longer legs eating up ground. I don't complain. Women who've been through what Ressa endured can't afford to wait while I catch my breath.
"How bad?" I ask as we walk.
"Don't know yet. Kai and Ursik are with them now at the edge of the base. Some are terrified, others are fighting. One girl in particular has a sharp tongue and keeps trying to protect the younger ones."
That sounds familiar. Protective instincts born from trauma and necessity.
We reach the edge of the settlement where a small group has gathered. I spot Kai's distinctive height first, then Ursik's broad frame. Between them, huddled in various states of fear and defiance, are eight human women.
They're a mess. Bruised, malnourished, wearing clothes that are little more than rags. Some won't make eye contact. Others stare with hollow eyes that have seen too much. And one—a thin woman with wild dark hair and a split lip—stands in front of the youngest ones like a human shield.
"Stay back," she snarls when she sees Bronn and me approach. "I don't care how many of you there are. You're not touching them."
"Easy," Kai says in that low, careful voice he uses when things might turn violent. "Nobody's going to hurt anyone. This is Falla. He's a healer. He just wants to help."
"Right. Because orcs are so famous for helping humans." Her eyes are fever-bright with fear and fury. "We know what you do to us. We're not stupid."
I recognize the look in her eyes. Saw it in Ressa's face those first few check-ins when she'd been ready to bolt at any sudden movement. This woman has been through hell and come out the other side sharp as broken glass.
"You're right to be suspicious," I say, keeping my voice even and non-threatening. "After what you've been through, trust would be stupid. But these women need medical attention. Look at them."
She doesn't turn around, refusing to take her eyes off perceived threats. But I can see the way her hands shake, the way exhaustion makes her shoulders droop despite her defiant stance.
"What do you want?" she demands.
"To look at injuries. Clean wounds. Make sure infections don't kill anyone." I set my healer's kit on the ground and step back from it, hands visible. "You can watch everything I do. If you don't like it, I stop. But let me help them. Please."
The please seems to throw her. She blinks, confusion flickering across her face like she wasn't expecting basic courtesy.
"Why would you help us?" Her voice cracks slightly on the last word.
"Because you need it. Because what happened to you was wrong.
Because no one deserves to suffer like this.
" I think of Ressa, of how small she'd looked when Kai carried her into the settlement.
"And because someone very important to me was where you are not that long ago.
I know what the Stonevein do. Know what they take.
I can't give that back, but I can try to help you heal. "
Something shifts in her expression. Not trust—that will take time if it comes at all—but a slight easing of the rigid terror holding her upright.
"Just you," she says finally. "No other males."
"Agreed." I glance at Kai and Ursik. "Can you give us space?"
Kai nods, already backing away. Ursik follows more reluctantly, clearly unhappy about leaving me alone with eight traumatized women, one of whom looks ready to murder someone. But he goes.
Bronn hesitates. "Falla—"
"I'll be fine. Go organize housing. They'll need somewhere to stay."
He leaves too, though not without a backward glance.