Page 5 of Ashes, Apples, & Amorous Orcs

He sets me down with surprising gentleness, his hands lingering for just a moment to ensure I'm stable before he steps back. Already, I can see him preparing to leave, that guarded expression settling more firmly over his features.

The door bursts open behind us.

"Isolde! What happened?"

Maddie rushes in, flour still dusting her apron, auburn curls wild with panic. Her bright eyes dart between my torn dress and bloodied leg before landing on Draven's imposing figure.

"Liora, this is my cousin I told you about—the one who just arrived today with the honey shipment."

"I was looking for a good spot to establish my apiary," I explain, settling more comfortably on the cot. "But I wandered too far into the tree line. There was a wolf—massive thing, all teeth and hunger."

Both women gasp, Maddie's hand floating to her throat.

"It had me cornered completely." I gesture toward Draven, who stands near the door like he's calculating the fastest escape route. "He saved my life."

Maddie whips around as if she's only just registered Draven's presence, her eyes widening with surprise.

"Draven? What were you doing so close to town?"

The question hits him like an accusation, and I watch his shoulders tense. He shifts his weight toward the door, those golden-brown eyes darting between Maddie and the exit like he's measuring distances.

"Wasn't by choice." His voice carries the rough edge of someone forced into explanations he'd rather avoid. "Been tracking the beast for two days. Followed it into Thornak's forest."

The admission comes reluctantly, each word pulled from him like splinters from a wound. He wipes at the dried blood on his cheek with the back of his hand, the gesture more frustrated than practical.

"Wait—how did you know I was hurt?" I ask Maddie, suddenly curious about the speed of her arrival.

Maddie laughs, bright and knowing. "News travels fast in Harvest Hollow, cousin. You'd better get used to it. Mrs. Penwhistle saw Draven carrying you through the square and sent Timmy running to every shop."

The explanation makes perfect sense, yet something about the efficiency of small-town gossip both amuses and unsettles me.

Maddie turns back to Draven, her expression softening with genuine gratitude. "It's good to see you, though I wish it were under better circumstances. I'm grateful you were there at the right time. You're practically a hero now."

Draven snorts, the sound harsh and dismissive. "Not a hero."

Something in his tone—the way he rejects the praise like it burns—makes me want to contradict him. I catch his attention, holding his gaze until those sharp eyes focus on mine.

"Well, you're my hero, at least."

The words hang between us, and I watch something flicker across his features—surprise, discomfort. His jaw works silently, as if he's chewing on a response he can't quite swallow.

Maddie's head swivels between us like she's following a particularly fascinating tennis match, her bright eyes sparkling with an intensity that makes me suddenly wary.

"You know what? You should stop by the bakery so I can thank you properly with a good pastry." Her voice carries that cheerful determination I remember from childhood—the tone that meant resistance was futile. "Something with that lavender honey Isolde brought. Consider it payment for services rendered."

"Don't need payment."

Draven's refusal comes swift and automatic, but Maddie waves him off with flour-dusted fingers.

"Thornak should know the wolves are getting closer to town anyway. You'll need to brief him on what you found."

"You can tell Thornak." He takes a step toward the door, escape clearly his priority. "I must get back to work."

"Someone will have to help Isolde walk there anyway," Maddie continues, undeterred by his retreat. "Liora's got her hands full with other patients today, and I can't hardly walk three feet without stumbling on air—I'm clumsy, you know."

I watch this exchange with growing fascination, recognizing the tactical brilliance of Maddie's maneuvering. She's cornered him as effectively as that wolf cornered me, using social obligation and practical necessity instead of teeth and claws.

Draven's shoulders drop in defeat, and he exhales slowly through his nose—the sound of a man who knows when he's been outmatched.