The night passed in a tense, fragile quiet.
Fortunately, nothing eventful happened.
Sylvana, after a long, silent battle with her pride, finally drank the red health potion. The effect was immediate and startling. A pleasant warmth spread from her stomach, coalescing in her wounded leg. She watched, mesmerized, as the angry, red flesh slowly knit itself together, the gaping edges pulling close until only a thin, pink line remained.
The pain, a constant, throbbing companion, simply vanished, and with it came the exhaustion that had clung to her like a shroud.
She and the princess almost instantly fell asleep on the warm bear hide.
Valkar sat awake by the fire long after their breathing evened out into the slow rhythm of sleep. He did not sleep. He couldn't. The succubus curse was like a never-ending fire between his legs.
The fact that he didn't immediately jump on the two sleeping elves was nothing short of a miracle.
'Now that the elf is healed, tomorrow we can get to the main business.'
He needed to get rid of this curse before his balls go BOOM!
"!!!" Just imagining it gave Valkar shivers.
'No! I must get strong, strong enough to protect my mother and sister, strong enough to protect my... mate.'
He looked at the sleeping form of Sylvana.
'Tomorrow.'
...
Morning came not with the gentle light of the sun, but with the faint, gray luminescence that filtered through the cracks around the stone door. The fire had burned down to a bed of glowing embers.
Sylvana was the first to wake. She didn't stir or stretch. Her eyes simply opened, her warrior's instincts snapping her to full awareness in an instant.
It was the first time she had had a good night's sleep in days, and after a good sleep, she momentarily forgot where she was, or it was simply her mind trying to shield her from the trauma of the past days.
'What?' She looked around the cave, her violet eyes narrowed. Her gaze fell upon the sleeping form of the princess, her face peaceful, for once. Then she looked at her own leg. It was whole. The wound was gone, leaving only a pale scar.
'Ah!'
The memories came rushing back. The ambush, the blinding light, the fall, the goblins. The orc.
Her head snapped towards the spot where he had been sitting.
He wasn't there.
"!!!" Her heart skipped a beat, and her hand flew to the empty sheath at her hip. It was a useless gesture, a muscle memory, but it brought her no comfort.
She scanned the cave, her senses on high alert. The fire was dead. The stone door was still sealed. But the orc was gone.
'Where is he?' Her mind raced. 'Did he leave us? Did he get tired of waiting and decide to find another mate? Or... was he taken?'
A shiver ran down her spine. Without her even knowing, she was seeing him as an essential element of their survival in their brutal land.
"He abandoned... us?"
She didn't know why, but she felt like a knife was twisting in her stomach. A deep sense of betrayal. She glanced at the sleeping princess, at her cute, peaceful face, and the knife twisted deeper.
'How are we going to survive without him?'
The thought was so sudden, so raw, that it took her breath away. She, an elite elven knight, trained from birth to be a shield for the royal family, was thinking of depending on an orc for survival.
It was a bitter pill to swallow, but the reality of their situation was a harsh, unforgiving teacher.
Then, a sound.
A low, rhythmic thudding coming from behind the stone disk.
THUD... THUD... THUD...
It was heavy, deliberate. Not the scrabbling of some beast, but the sound of… footsteps. And then, the low, grinding groan of the massive stone door moving.
Sylvana rose silently, her bare feet making no sound on the cool cave floor. She crept towards the entrance, her eyes locked on the slowly moving stone disk, her heart pounding in her chest.
She held her breath.
'He's coming back.'
The thought was like a ray of sunlight piercing through the thick clouds of despair that had filled her mind.
He had left, but not abandoned them.
The door ground opened just enough to admit his massive frame. Valkar stepped through, the gray light from outside silhouetting him for a moment before he pushed the stone shut with a final, resonant thud. He turned, and Sylvana saw what he carried.
A net crafted from intertwined vines and thick green branches, laden with small, dark-skinned fruits. They looked like apples, but larger, with a hard, rough-looking shell.
He stopped, his amber eyes meeting hers. The tension between them was a palpable thing.
"You were gone." It wasn't a question. It came out sharper than she intended, and she seemed to hear it herself, because her jaw tightened right after.
"Brought food." Valkar's deep voice was matter of fact, and he dropped the net onto the stone floor.
"..."
Sylvana didn't reply, her mind a maelstrom of conflicting emotions.
'He came back.'
She knew the feeling bubbling inside her was hope, a desperate, clawing thing, trying to take root.
Her eyes scanned him for wounds. There were none. No blood, no cuts, no gashes. Only drenched.
Water dripped from his green skin and matted hair, and his simple hide trousers were soaked. The air that came in with him was heavy with the scent of damp earth and ozone.
"You're wet," Sylvana said, the words escaping her before she could stop them. It was a stupid observation, but her mind was still grappling with the relief of his return.
"Rain. Heavy. Outside the cave." He shook his head like a great beast, sending a spray of water droplets across the stone. "The land drinks."
He then looked at her, his amber eyes assessing.
"Leg."
The single word hung in the air. She didn't miss the subtle change. It was not a command. Nor was it a request. It was a statement.
'He is going to check my leg.'
She knew that, but for some reason, the idea of him touching her sent an unbidden heat through her, a tingling, nervous feeling.
'Calm down. It's nothing like that.'
"It's healed," Sylvana said, standing straighter. The fact that she was a head shorter than him didn't make the slightest difference to her. She was an elite elf, the personal bodyguard of the royal princess. She would not allow him to see any weakness in her.
"Good." Valkar didn't argue. He nodded once, sat down, and lit the fire again.
At that moment, Elara stirred, blinking awake with the slow confusion of a child pulled from a good dream.
"Sylvana? What's—" Her eyes landed on Valkar and she brightened instantly, all suspicion apparently forgotten overnight. "Oh! Good morning, Mister Orc!"
'Mister Orc!'
Sylvana pinched the bridge of her nose.
Valkar, against every instinct he possessed, felt the corner of his mouth twitch upward. There was something disarming about the blonde elf, something that made the weight in his chest—the curse, the responsibility, the sheer impossibility of the situation—feel, for one brief moment, lighter.
"Morning, little elf," he said.
"I'm not little!" Elara huffed, puffing out her cheeks. "I'm one hundred and seventeen years old, you know! I'm an adult!"
"Hah. Adult, yes. Little, always." Valkar rumbled, the words coming surprisingly easily. "Come, I brought some fruit."
Elara pouted, and for a moment, her face was a picture of childish rebellion. Then she smiled, a pure, dazzling expression that caught Sylvana completely off guard.
'Since when could she smile so brightly?'
"OK!" The princess bounced over, her long golden hair swaying. She plopped down beside him, and he handed her a small, rough-looking fruit. She took a bite, her face immediately lit up at the sweetness.
"Mm, yummy!... Come, Sylvana, try it."
The scene was so ridiculous that Sylvana had to stifle a laugh.
She walked over, her steps quiet, her violet eyes darting between the two of them.
"What is it?" she asked.
"A common fruit. Sweet and filling."
He handed her one. She accepted it hesitantly, her fingers brushing against his rough, calloused skin.
The brief contact sent a jolt through both of them.
"!!!" Sylvana pulled her hand back a fraction too quickly, the rough fruit now warm in her palm. Her violet eyes flicked up to meet his amber ones, then away again just as fast. A faint heat rose in her cheeks that had nothing to do with the rekindled fire.
Valkar felt it too.
The curse, which had been a low, constant burn all night and morning, flared hard the second her fingers touched his skin.
'Not now!'
He fought the urge, a battle fought every moment since the succub queen touched him, to simply tear off her clothes and mount her.
'Not her. Not yet.'
Sylvana looked away first, focusing on the fruit. She took a bite. The flavor was surprisingly good—a mix of honey and wild berries. It was nourishment, simple and honest.
"Thank you," she said quietly, the words tasting foreign on her tongue.
'Gratitude to an orc. The world truly had turned upside down.'
Elara, blissfully unaware, was already on her second fruit, juice running down her chin.
"These are so good! Mister Orc, where did you find them?"
"Near a stream," Valkar answered, voice rougher than he intended. "Not far. The barrier kept everything out. Safe enough."
"Barrier?" Sylvana's head snapped toward him.
"Yes." He met her eyes this time. "The light you felt last night. I claimed this cave. Made it mine and set up a barrier. Nothing can enter my territory without permission."
Sylvana didn't miss the hint of pride in his voice.
'This... this is his territory now? What kind of power is that?'
Her expression shifted—suspicion, calculation, and something quieter she refused to name. She took a careful bite of the fruit. Sweet juice burst across her tongue. It was good. Better than the half-cooked bear meat from the night before.
"How long does it last?" she asked.
"Thirty days." Valkar shrugged one massive shoulder. "Long enough."
Long enough for what? He did not say.
Elara wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and looked between them.
"Does that mean we can stay here? For a while?"
"For now." Valkar nodded once, then he turned to Sylvana. His expression was grim, and for the first time, she saw something new in those amber eyes. Something that, deep down, made her own heart ache.
"I need your help. I have less than 24 hours to live."
"WHAT!"