Page 27 of The Orc King's Bride

“I don’t know that youdounderstand.” I run a hand through my hair, trying to find the right words to tell him how I feel. "Since my abduction, I've been passed around from one alien owner to another, always looking for an escape route. Now you're telling me that my future has been decided by yourdick? You grew up with the idea of cockspikes, but I didn’t. I need time to think about what this means."

He nods. "I would never force you to be with me, Sloane. Yet I hope you will choose to become my mate, my queen.”

What?!“Wait a second. Accepting this whole perfect genetic match thing means I’ll become theorc queen?”

“Of course. We will be partners in every way, and I would want you to rule by my side.”

“And your family would be okay with that? The orcs, too.” An unhinged laugh bubbles up from my throat, so I take a deep breath, trying to calm my growing hysteria. “Even Gorlag?”

He waves away my concerns. “Like you, my people may need some time to accept this unprecedented development. Yet theywillcome to accept you as their queen. Even Gorlag.”

Just as I open my mouth to argue that point, a twig snaps in the distance. My survival instincts kick in, and I'm on my feet in an instant. I whip out my pocket knife and quickly activate the stun tool, whipping around toward the sound.

Dexari's guards are back, led by my giant, green nemesis. Their sudden appearance is like a bucket of cold water splashed in my face, and alarm bells ring in my head, warning of potential danger.

“Stay back,” I call out, pointing my stun gun in their direction.

Gorlag's eyes narrow, taking in the scene before him and probably wondering what in the hell is going on between his king and the prisoner.

One thought crystallizes in my mind: there’s a very real possibility that Gorlag willneveraccept me as his queen. If that happens, will he see me as a threat, an opportunity, or an obstacle to be eliminated?

Chapter 25

Dexari

As the foresterupts with movement, Gorlag bursts into the clearing first, his massive frame cutting through the foliage like a battering ram. Behind him, my guards emerge from between the trees, swords drawn and ready to fight.

Looks like, this time, my second brought reinforcements. Rage coils inside me as their eyes lock onto Sloane.

“I said, stay back!” she screams, her shaking hand holding some sort of small weapon.

When the guards press forward, I let out a roar. “Stand down!” My voice carries the full weight of my authority despite my weakened state.

The guards falter, confusion etched on their faces. Gorlag raises a closed fist, signaling for them to halt. His eyes dart between Sloane and me, assessing the situation.

“Sire,” he says, dropping to one knee. The others follow suit, though their grips on their weapons do not loosen. “We have come to bring you home.”

I push myself up to a sitting position, gritting my teeth against the pain that flares in my side. A wave of dizziness makes me falter, and Sloane moves to help, yet I wave her off. I must appear strong and in control.

“Your loyalty is commendable, Gorlag,” I say, my voice steady despite the effort it takes. “Yet the human female is not a threat.”

Gorlag's eyes dart to Sloane, his distrust obvious. “Forgive me, sire, the circumstances of your injury—”

“Are not what you think,” I cut him off. The possessive surge I feel toward Sloane threatens to overwhelm me. I take a breath, steadying myself. “There is much you do not know.”

He turns to me, his expression grave. “I know the human threatened your life and kept you hostage. She cannot be trusted.”

Sloane flinches, and my need to defend her,protecther, becomes all-consuming. “Enough.” I say, my voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “Sloane would never hurt me. I would caution you to mind what you say about her.”

“I do not understand, sire. You have always urged me to speak freely.”

“That is true,” I agree. “Yet there is something I must tell you. All of you.”

“What is it, sire?” Gorlag asks.

“The female is far more thanjusta human,” I growl, unable to keep the possessive edge from my voice.

Sloane drops to her knees beside me, her breath catching. “What are you doing?” she asks through clenched teeth, her voice barely a whisper.

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