Page 2 of The Orc King's Bride

But this orc…King Dexari. He’s like something out of a very different kind of dream.

He’s tall, broad, and muscular like the guards, but that’s where the similarities end. He carries himself with an air of arrogance, of confidence, of power. It’s in the way he moves, as if the world exists to bend to his will.

He’s dressed in nothing but boots and a leather wrap that hangs from his waist and ends mid-thigh, leaving his muscled chest sinfully bare. His skin is a unique shade of soft green, and his battle scars look more like artwork than flaws.

From his cheekbones to his shoulders, from his chest to his calves, he’s perfectly chiseled in a way that seems almost surreal. But what really gets me is his hair. Silky and black, it’s pulled back into a perfectly styled man bun.

Of course, the king has to be stupidly attractive. Because facing down a green monster would’ve been too easy. Now I have to worry about my freaking hormones hopping into the driver’s seat, and they drive recklessly.

I actually have to suppress a giggle, and that’s when I know I’mreallyin trouble. I do not giggle.Ever.Well, not since I was a little girl. And yet, here I am, fighting the urge to giggle at how absurdly good-looking this orc king is. How physically striking.

I’ve never been attracted to pretty boys—they’re usually more trouble than they’re worth. But for the GQ version of an orc king? My hormones might make an exception.

King Dexari's dark eyes look me over, and I swear it’s like a physical touch. Then, they lock onto mine, and the temperature in the room spikes by ten degrees. I try to keep my face neutral, but I can feel a traitorous blush creeping up my neck.

His lips curl into a smirk. “You are staring, female.”

I shrug. “Just trying to figure out if you're real or if I've finally cracked and started hallucinating impossibly pretty orc kings. And my name is Sloane, not female.”

The king raises an eyebrow, his smirk growing wider. “Pretty?” He steps closer, and I have to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact. “What were you expecting?”

Sweat beads on my brow. “Um, have you seen your guards? Unlike you, they won’t be winning any beauty contests.”

Dexari growls, a deep, rumbling sound that strikes right between my legs. “I am quite capable of holding my own in a fight.” I think calling him pretty pissed him off.

Shit. Me and my big mouth.

“I don’t doubt it,” I say, giving his ego a bit of a boost. My eyes trail over his broad shoulders and down his beefy pecs before I can catch myself. “But whatever punishment you decide for me, I’m guessing the guards will dish it out.”

He takes another step closer, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating off his body. “What makes you say that?”

I swallow hard, fighting the urge to step back. Or worse, step forward. “You don’t really seem like the kind of guy who gets his hands dirty.”

Something flickers in his eyes. Is it anger? It's gone before I can be sure. “And yet, you know nothing about me.”

“I know you ordered your guards to lock me up in this room and took your sweet time coming to see me,” I say, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice.

“You are not pleased with the guest quarters?” The way he emphasizesguestmakes it clear he's toying with me.

I clench my fists at my sides, fighting the urge to lash out. “The quarters are fine. What I'm not pleased about is being your prisoner.”

“You committed crimes on my land, Sloane.” Dexari leans in, his breath hot against my ear as he whispers, “Now, you must pay.”

Chapter 3

Dexari

As I whisperin Sloane’s ear, the unexpected contact of her soft body against my bare chest ignites a fire beneath my skin. The fire enters my bloodstream, spreading unchecked through my veins, and a powerful possessiveness awakens within me—an overwhelming urge to claim and protect a female I shouldnotdesire.

Stunned by my reaction to the tiny human, all thoughts of punishment temporarily vanish. My senses home in on the subtle changes in her scent, how her breath comes just a bit faster, and how her legs tremble ever so slightly, as if my nearness both arouses and unnerves her.

Her scent perfumes the air, fueling the turmoil within me. My heart, usually steady, now beats erratically in my chest. How can she wield such power over me? The thought that she could bring me to my knees terrifies me more than any battle I could face.

I take a deep, controlled breath, forcing my mind to still as I back away from her, the growing distance between us physically paining me.

My practiced veneer of composure slips as primal need and base desire surge through my loins and limbs. This human female, with her quick tongue and defiant spirit, has somehow managed to rattle my royal façade.

I remind myself that I am King Dexari, a fierce and mighty warrior, and the ruler of Ari. I should not feel drawn to this criminal off-worlder, no matter how delectable she smells, and I do not understand what is happening.

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