Page 51 of The Orc's Rage

When he didn’t see her among hisparog, who all tapped their chests as he passed, his throat tightened. Ravenous, he barreled toward their tent. Surely she hadn’t slept through this.

Unease rose in his belly as he reached the door and snatched it open. He expected to see her inside, perhaps naked on the furs—oh, that would be ideal—but instead, the tent was empty. Empty save for her cat, who was tied up, whimpering and whining.

Kargorr stared at her beloved pet. Where had Cedar gone without Kiya? Why would she have left him tied up?

The realization hit him like a sword through the chest.

She hadrun.

The swell of rage that overtook him was unlike anything he’d felt before. Never, even in the heat of battle, had he experienced such blistering fury.

Hisyapirahad run from him. Carrying his orcling. She intended to abandon him, forever.

The shout that erupted from him shook the ground, and Kiya hunched into the corner of the tent. Kargorr nearly took the place down as he searched for an article of her clothing, finding one scattered across the furs. Clutching the garment tight, he stormed out. His eyes darted left to right as he considered which way she had gone.

How could she do this to him, after all the battles he’d fought to come home to her? How could she leave him after what he’d shared with her?

He thought of the orcling they’d created growing up without him, and he was nearly blinded by rage as he charged into the snow. He howled, “Liga!” and his cat came running, thrilled to see him again. Grabbing her scruff in his hand, he leapt onto her back and leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“Find her,” he growled. “Find her for me, Liga.” He held out the clothing so she could smell it, then tucked it away while she sniffed the air. Liga paused, ears flicking forward, and then all at once she sprang into motion.

It was as if Liga could sense Kargorr’s urgency the way she flew through the snow, one huge bound after another. She dove into the trees, weaving between trunks, following her nose.

Kargorr’s arms swelled with his fury, and he gripped Liga’s mane even tighter. Hisyapirawas leaving him, taking their offspring with her. He had given her hissarga, and she dared run from him?

He ground his teeth together, his vision clouded. He was glad for Liga’s eyes as she made her way deeper into the woods, because all he could see was her betrayal.

Liga snarled, and up ahead, Kargorr made out a shape with dark hair sprinting through the snow.

Cedar.

He roared as he jumped from Liga’s back, landing in the snow behind her. She spun around, her cloak flying, and her eyes went huge when she saw him. For a moment, their gazes locked, and the whites of her eyes were shot through with red.

Then she turned and ran off again, even faster.

All of Kargorr’s predator instincts took over as he watched his woman flee into the branches. Running fromhim. A wordless shout ripped itself from his throat as he took one step for every three of hers, easily gaining on her. When he was close enough, he threw himself at her, tackling her to the ground.

Cedar cried out as they both landed in the snow. Kargorr was on his feet instantly. He seized her by the wrists and hauled her up into the air, trapping her arms at her sides like she was little more than a toy. Her face was flushed bright red, and tears had frozen on her cheeks.

“You run from me?” he snarled, jerking her closer to his face. Her huge, brown eyes were wild as he stared into them, his vision narrowing to the single point of her face. “You would steal my orcling from me?!”

Her fear gave way to her own fury. Like she had done so long ago, Cedar spat on him.

“Andyouwould replace me!” she snapped back, wriggling to get free of his iron hands. “You would throw me away!”

If his anger had been aflame before, it now erupted into a forest fire. He slammed her against a tree, and she gagged as the air was knocked from her lungs.

“I would never,” he hissed between closed teeth, “neverthrow you away. Not like you have me.”

It was the most acute sting he’d ever felt, to find his tent empty and his true mate gone. His hands tightened around her arms, and she whimpered when his claws bit into her flesh. But he was too deep in his blood fury to notice how he hurt her.

His body had ached for her while he was gone, his chest empty and hollow. Now the thrill and pleasure he’d felt at returning to her had dried up into sand, and all that was left was his despair and rage.

Before Cedar could answer, Kargorr smashed his lips to hers, crushing them, forcing her mouth open so he could wind his way inside. Her tongue fought with his, but he easily overpowered her. All his fire boiled up and over until he had not one of his senses left.

He had to punish her, hisyapira, who had so brutally maimed him—far worse than the scar across his face. So he conquered her mouth as he reached under her cloak, finding her round breasts with one hand while the other kept her pinned. She writhed, whimpering as she tried to push him away. But Lord Kargorr only snarled, no longer capable of words.

He had become the manifestation of wrath itself, an animal driven by its instinct to hunt, to devour, and to claim.

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