Page 13 of Alien Orc Warlord's Captive Bride

"The ransom, Chieftain Ragnar. He could be a messenger."

"The message should be his head cut off and displayed," comes a deep voice from behind me. I turn. Gorak is back, stalking into the great hall. "Do not listen to this traitorous human. She is loyal to her own kind.”

"Go back to the cave. Now." Ragnar barks out the order to me. I rush towards the back of the cave, down the hallways towards his room, dread pooling in my stomach. I have no idea if my outburst saved the life of a man not worthy of life...

Or if I just delayed it for a second, and brought Ragnar's wrath onto me.

7

AIRA

The door slams behind me, heavy wood that reverberates. One wall of the cave is still turned into a flawless mirror, and when I look at myself, I don't see the tension that’s filling my being. The red and orange paints are like fire on my body, and Silga wove the paint expertly, making it accentuate the curves and lines of my body too well.

I'm going to be alone in the cave with the angry Orc warlord, clad in only a loincloth.

It's too intense to dwell on. I pace the smooth stone floor in my bare feet, back and forth. Did he murder that captive soldier? Is that the kind of man Ragnar is?

Ten minutes later, plenty of time to cut a man's head off, and the door opens. Ragnar stalks in.

I shrink back. He is more imposing that ever, his jaw like an anvil, his stony green face emotionless as an executioner. He strides to me, until he towers over me, his earthy, masculine scent in my nostrils. I stare straight at his broad chest, but his strong fingers cup my chin, forcing my gaze upwards.

Then his fingers slide down my neck, ticklish and sensitive, and I gasp, waiting for them to close around my throat, that he will wring me and punish me brutally for my outburst.

He leans in, and kisses me. His lips are gentle, but I can feel the hunger in his being, and he wraps his fingers around the back of my head, forcing me to meet his kiss as his huge tongue slides into my mouth. Then, as quickly as he kissed me, he pulls away, leaving me shaking and confused, my stomach fluttering, insistent heat between my legs.

My nipples are hard and desperate, uncovered and on display for the beast. His eyes widen as he drinks up my body, looking me up and down, his nostrils flaring.

"I did not kill him." He states the words simply, and I walk to the huge mound of furs, sitting heavily, feeling weak.

He steps closer to me as I sit in the pile of furs, this titan of a beast towering over me possessively. "I saw you," he rasps. "I saw you in your village, picked by that ghoul. Any other woman would have gone with him for the promise of comfort. But you would not go, not until your brother's life was forfeit if you resisted. I saw you, Aira, as if you were painted in stories of courage.

"You drive me mad, Aira. You drive me to insanity. I can smell your nectar. Your body belongs to me, not to him."

My heart races uncontrollably. The tales told about Orcs are all true. They can smell your fear...

And your lust.

I'm more naked than I have ever been, my thoughts and needs on display for the chieftain. My body shudders with an undeniable urge, a primal reaction to his immense energy. He exudes power and my body instinctively responds, an instinct bred deep within my core that knows his strength cannot be denied.

"My men think you have made me soft. That I should not have spared the life of that worm who threatened us." His lips curl back. "I should punish you in front of them. Turn your ass red with my handprints while they watch. You will never contradict me in front of my men. You understand?"

"Yes, Chieftain," I say, imagining the intense humiliation of being stripped and spanked in front of his warriors, publicly shown my place.

"But you were right. He is more valuable alive. We will know by week's end if you can be ransomed, or if it is war for my tribe."

His burning green eyes stroll over painted fox on my body, then rest on my hard nipples that betray my need. "You're a strong-willed woman, Aira. I know you plan to escape tonight. I will give you the choice. I can tie you up, or you can sleep in my arms."

I gulp. I can just imagine it. Ragnar tightening ropes around my arms, then my legs, his breathing growing heavy as he feels how helpless I am. I'd be unable to move an inch while his beastly desires grew.

"I'll sleep in your arms," I say, and he nods. He gets into the furs with me.

"I...I thought I'd be deflowered by that bastard already. That I'd be in his bed, wishing I could get away, the touch of his skin against me making me want to throw up," I say, as he wraps his huge biceps around me. It's safe. Protective. I know I am his captive, that I am just a pawn to be sold, and despite wanting to escape…

I'd rather his arms around me than Lord Ashbourne.

"He does not deserve you."

"I know," I say, and he pulls me closer to his muscled chest.

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