Page 25 of The Orc Protector's Secret Baby

“Thank you,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper despite the water.

"It's nothing," Cagan says gently. "I like to help you."

His kindness makes me pause. No one has cared for me without wanting something in return since I was a child. I search Cagan's face, looking for any sign of dishonesty, but his golden eyes hold nothing but sincerity.

"I can’t take you to my home," Cagan continues, frustration bleeding into his voice.

I hesitate, wondering if I should pry. Cagan has always been kind, bringing me food and talking to me like a real person instead of something to be used. Still, he remains a mystery in many ways. I know little of his life beyond these woods, besides that he’s from the Swordstone Clan.

Curiosity wins out. "Why are you so concerned about me?" I ask.

Cagan smiles, though it doesn't reach his eyes. "We're friends."

Friends. The word sends an unfamiliar warmth through me. I've never had a true friend, not since Hera long ago.

"Friends watch out for each other," Cagan says. "They care. And I care about you."

My chest tightens. I'm not used to such open affection. Part of me wants to pull away, to protect myself. But a larger part wants to cling to the kindness Cagan offers.

"You've been living out here alone for so long," Cagan says sadly. "It isn't right."

I look down, blinking back sudden tears. Is that pity in his voice? No, deeper, it’s empathy. Understanding. Two things I never expected from an orc.

Cagan lifts my chin gently. "You deserve better, Hayden. A warm home. People who love you."

His words undo me. I look away, ignoring the burning in my eyes. Cagan must sense my doubt, because he releases my chin and looks around the cave.

His brow furrows with concern as he says, "You can’t live here, Hayden. This cave is no place for you."

I let out a hollow laugh. "And where would I go? I have nowhere, Cagan."

It's true. These woods are the only home I've known since my escape. Cagan searches my face, seeing the loneliness and resignation in my eyes.

"We could build you a house!" he suggests enthusiastically. "I'm good at construction."

I raise an eyebrow, skepticism flooding through me. "You would do that for me?" I've only ever relied on myself. The concept of accepting help feels foreign.

Cagan nods, undaunted by my doubtful tone. "Just something simple to keep the rain out." His hands weave through the air as he describes it.

"I don't know..." I hesitate. A house means settling down, putting roots here. That thought terrifies me. What if I need to run again?

Sensing my fear, Cagan says gently, "A sturdy shelter would help you survive out here. You deserve to be safe and comfortable."

I look away again, emotions swirling. I want to trust him, want to believe I could have an actual home. But years of pain have taught me that dreams only lead to heartbreak.

"Think about it," Cagan urges. "Offer's open."

I sigh, tipping my head back to rest against the cave wall. He means well, but this fear runs deeper than brick and mortar. Or wood and leaves, in this case.

My resolve strengthens. Hasn’t he done enough to prove I can trust him? As much as I can allow myself to trust anyone, especially an orc. I open my mouth, trying to find the right words.

"I don't actually live here," I admit quietly. "I've been sleeping in the trees, for safety. I only took shelter in this cave because of the rain."

Cagan's eyes widen in surprise. "The trees? But that's so exposed! Aren't you worried about falling?"

I let out a heavy sigh. "Of course I worry. But it's better than being caught unaware on the ground."

My muscles tense as the familiar fear rises within me.