Fighting Hearts - a Sweet and Steamy Romance

Glassville Pines, 1902

“It could be worse,” Evie said, dabbing a piece of linen cloth on the small but still-pouring wound just below Roth’s eyebrow. “I think you need about three stitches.”

“Only three? That’s not too bad,” Roth replied.

If Evie knew the orc let himself get wounded just because he wanted to feel those soft little hands on his skin, she would surely think he was a pathetic man. But it was the truth. He’d taken a few punches on purpose.

Roth worked as a fighter in the pits, a huge arena in the valley, where orcs fought and rich men could place their bets on every match. Roth was the top fighter, and he had been for months. Nobody was able to hurt him, unless he let them, which he sometimes did. He pretended it was for a good show, but the truth was that he did it to see her.

Evie didn’t seem to be impressed with his victories, though. She was a nurse. She was always solely focused on her job: patching up the injured fighters.

“Lie on the table, please,” Evie said when she was done cleaning the wound. “I’ll prepare to stitch you up.”

“Yes, Miss,” he replied, gazing back into her eyes.

Oh, those eyes.

Those kind eyes were Roth’s favorite. They were big and blue like forget-me-nots, the pupils circled with honey. Actually, everything about Evie was his favorite. He had been in love with this woman for months now. In love with those eyes and her strawberry blond hair, which was often covered by her white nurse’s cap. And her cute little nose and those rosy lips. They looked so soft. He wondered how they would feel against his lips. He wondered about such things a lot. From morning to afternoon.

Roth wanted her. But he couldn’t say that. Because what if she rejected him?

This wasn’t the first time that he was in love. He had loved before. It was years ago that someone had rejected him, and it was the worst kind of feeling. Way worse than having one’s eyebrow busted open, and he swore he never wanted to feel like that again.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried anything. He’d tried. He’d tried to flirt with her more than once, but she didn’t seem to recognize his advances. Then again, maybe she did get it. She probably just didn’t want to flirt back because she found him an uninteresting, dumb orc, who wasn’t good for anything but fighting.

Sometimes, however, it felt like there was something there between her and him. A spark. A connection. Whatever it was, it was enough for Roth to feel dizzy.

Other times, he could curse himself for hoping for something that could never be. He was an orc, after all. The chance she was interested in him was small, although orcs and humans sometimes found happiness together. It just didn’t happen often. Species rather stayed with their own.

“Make sure I can keep this handsome face,” Roth said, watching how Evie displayed her tools on the small table next to him.

“I will. But you should be more careful,” she answered. “I know you have to take a few blows for show, but perhaps you shouldn’t let them punch you in the face, to prevent injuries like these.”

“You don’t like having me as your patient?”

“I do. I like your company,” she answered, sitting down next to him. She bowed over him. “Of course, I do. I would just rather not see you in pain.”

The orc chuckled, right as she was about to start.

“Be still!” Evie was stern. She pulled the wound together, ready to start stitching.

“I’m sorry.” He lay motionless. “I think it’s funny that you think a mere scratch causes me pain. And… I like that you like my company.” He closed his eyes right before he felt the first pinch of the needle, piercing through his flesh.

“Well, you’re a respectful man. Not like any of these other pigs.”

He raised his head. “Who? What do they do?”

“Oh, gods! I said, be still!” She pushed his face down with her free hand.

“I’m sorry,” he said, closing his eyes. Oh, what a woman. Such fierceness inside that little body. His heart beat faster.

“I’m sorry too,” she answered. “Did I hurt you?”

“Nope.”

“You should really stay still, because if I mess things up, they’ll fire me. And I need this job. I need the money.”

“I will not move another muscle.” The last thing Roth wanted was for her to leave this job. She was the only highlight of his day in the pits.

As she continued to work, she said, “I’m saving to buy the farm in the mountains. I’m planning on opening a sanatorium there.”

“A sanatorium?”

“Yes.”

He was curious. “For whom, exactly?”

“For… red lung patients.”

“Red lung? As in the orc disease?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

There was a moment of silence.

Roth didn’t know what to say. Should he ask more? Was it his place? Was it a sensitive subject? Why did she want to help orcs? Should he—

“My nephew, the first son of my brother, was a half-orc, more leaning to orc, so he was labeled an orc,” Evie continued. She swallowed hard enough for Roth to hear. “Sadly, he… died from red lung when he was just three years old.”

“Fuck…” Roth spoke softly.

“It’s been two years.”

“That… that fucking sucks.”

“Yes, it did. It still does.” She cleared her throat. “If it’s okay, I’d like to talk about something else, please. I’ve had a bit of a rough day, so my mood isn’t the best, and I don’t want to cry.”

She could cry. He wanted to tell her that he could hold space for that, for her. But she already said she didn’t want to, so changing the subject was what he was going to do. “The other fighters, do they mistreat you?”

“The orcs?”

He hummed.

“No, not at all.”

“Then who are the pigs you were talking about? You called me a respectable man and said I wasn’t like the other pigs.”

“Oh, I meant Carlisle and his disciples.”

“Carlisle? As in the bossman?”

Carlisle was the one who managed the pits and everything that happened in there. A slimy man, dumber than his father, who’d left him everything when he died last year. Apparently, dumb people could also do business well, because Carlisle had made this place even more successful than it used to be. Some fights were even attended by both kings: human King Oliver and orc King Hafford. Having royalty in the audience was a great honor.

“Yup, the bossman,” Evie answered. “You won’t tell him I said this, right?”

“Of course, I fucking won’t,” Roth answered. “You can trust me, Evie.”

“I know. And I do.”

She stood up from the stool. “We’re done for today.”

Roth didn’t care about his injury at all. “What did Carlisle do to you?”

“Oh, nothing serious. He likes to make inappropriate comments.” She sighed.

“Like?”

“Last time, he asked if my curtains match the drapes.”

“That’s… disgusting,” Roth said, scratching the back of his neck. Now he was ashamed that he, too, had questioned the color of her hair down there. More than once. But at least he had thought about it in silence instead of making her feel uncomfortable. Carlisle was an asshole.

“Sometimes it’s hard being one of the few women working here.”

“I can imagine,” Roth replied. “But you’re working here for a cause. Remember that.”

She nodded. “Yes. A greater purpose.” She pointed at his face. “You keep that clean.”

“Yes, Miss.”

“And… uh…” She looked at the door when she heard voices. “Could you perhaps walk me home today?”

He may have let out a gasp. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Thank you.”

While his stomach fluttered, he watched how she took off her nurse’s cap and revealed the perfected braided hairdo he always so admired. “You know… I could walk you home every day if you’d like. I could even walk you here.”

Was that too much?

A grin appeared on her face. “I would like that—”

“You would?!” He growled at himself for his sudden outburst. “I mean, it would be an honor.”

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