# Part Thirteen: Lucky Tirron
**Tirron Maldrek**
It was with a groan that Tirron woke up, the early morning breeze filtering into the room. Several feelings occurred to him at once, a deep ache in his body, anxiety about the battle that was barely over by the time he remembered losing consciousness, and lastly, warmth on each side of him.
Marcia was on one side of him, closest to the door with her body halfway on top of his. Tirron could feel her furry nethers brushing against the side of his hip, her thigh hugging his.
And strangely, Bree was on his other side, a little less lewdly cuddled up to him, but still had an arm thrown over his chest and her hand was intertwined with Marcia’s.
He took stock of the last things he remembered, Sybil’s wicked chanting and the goblins who moved so fast that his eyes could barely see them. But still he fought, driven by rage and a desire to protect those he loved, which included Bree, Ramona, Harvey, Autumn, and the rest of the caravan. But most of all, he had to keep Marcia and their unborn child safe.