Page 28 of The Orc King's Bride

“The time has come to reveal the truth,” I tell her, taking her hand in mine before addressing my guards. “My cockspikes have emerged for the human female,” I declare. “Sloane is my perfect genetic match, my fated mate.”

The reaction is immediate. Gorlag's face pales, his eyes widening in horrified shock as gasps and mutters erupt from the guards.

“Impossible,” Gorlag spits out, shaking his head. “Surely you must be mistaken, sire. I do not know what kind of power the human holds over you, yet this cannot—”

“Watch yourself, Gorlag.” If I were able to stand and confront him, I would. Instead, I cut him off, my voice low and dangerous.

“This is just like the king of Owlf,” my guard Vorash calls out. “His spikes emerged for a human female, too. Now she is the queen.”

I nod, ignoring Sloane’s questioning look. The tension in the clearing is palpable, thick enough to cut with a blade. Gorlag’s struggle plays out on his face, his loyalty to me warring with his distrust of Sloane. Yet I will not accept anything less than complete fealty to my mate.

“Gorlag, you have served me faithfully for many years. Now I am asking you—and all my guards—to serve my mate with the same unwavering dedication.”

A hush falls over the clearing, and Sloane squeezes my hand tight. I do not take my eyes off Gorlag. “Kneel,” I command. “Demonstrate your respect for Sloane, your future queen.”

The tense silence that follows is more uncomfortable than my wound. Gorlag's face contorts into a snarling grimace, a maelstrom of emotions flashing across his features. Disgust. Loyalty. Anger. Confusion. His hand tightens on the hilt of his sword, knuckles turning white with the force of his grip.

The other guards shift uneasily, their eyes darting between me and their leader, my second-in-command. The air crackles with tension, the moment balanced on a knife's edge.

I am acutely aware of Sloane's presence at my side, of my own weakened state. If Gorlag chooses to defy me, if the guards follow his lead...

A muscle ticks in Gorlag’s cheek. His eyes, blazing with rage, zero in on Sloane, and I feel her sharp intake of breath.

It occurs to me I may have miscalculated the depth of my second’s loyalty. And the consequences could be grave.

Chapter 26

Sloane

I still havethe multi-tool in my hand, but I’m afraid to move because I don’t want to do anything to provoke the furious Gorlag. I can practically see the gears turning in his thick, green skull as he processes his king’s command. The look on his face tells me all I need to know about his thoughts on kneeling to a human. Tome.

But inaction isn’t really my thing.

In a split-second decision, I jump back to my feet, point my stun gun at the orc to Gorlag’s left, and pull the trigger. Gorlag's eyes widen in surprise at the orc’s startled gurgle of pain as he falls to the ground, immobile.

“Stand down,” Dexari growls, but I'm not sure if he's talking to me or Gorlag.

I ignore him, my eyes locked with Gorlag's. “He’s only stunned, at least for now. And you’re next if you don’t do as Dexari says.”

Gorlag's jaw clenches, his hand still gripping his sword. But instead of kneeling or attacking, he does something unexpected.

He speaks to me directly.

“If you truly saved the king from fanghounds like he said, why did you then threaten his life?” His voice is gruff, suspicious.

I feel like I'm being tested, like my answer could tip the scales one way or another. “I was bluffing. It was the only thing I could think of to get you and the other guards to leave.”

Gorlag searches my face for any sign of deception. He points to my tiny stun gun. “Where did you get that weapon?”

I blink, momentarily thrown by the question. I recover quickly, sensing an opportunity. “Zephyr gave it to me. Like my unexpected bond with your king, the dragalor and I share a special connection. And like Dexari, Zephyr is my protector now.”

The backhanded threat is an off-the-cuff addition but, right on cue, Zephyr emerges from the trees and circles overhead. Gorlag glances at the sky, and I bite back a grin as he considers what it means to have a dragalor on my side.

The orc I stunned recovers and gets to his feet. I look at him sheepishly. “Sorry about stunning you. I needed to make a point, and you were my easiest target.”

He nods in my direction and winks. “I am Rukmar, mistress. Thank you for allowing me to assist you.”

That makes me laugh, and then all the guards—except Gorlag—laugh with me. But the look in his eyes softens just a bit, and with a grunt that could be either acceptance or resignation, he slowly sheathes his sword.

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