Page 3 of Claimed By the Wild Orc
The first thing that struck me was that he was tall—taller than any man I’d ever seen. Broader, too. Everything about him was brutal. His skin was the color of the trees—green. His dark, ink-hued hair was slicked with blood and rain. In his massive hand was a bloody axe, dripping.
His face was half-shadowed.
But I saw the tusks. Short, sharp, and real.
Fear surged through me.
Anorc.
My knees buckled. The ground tilted beneath me.
I fell.
Strong arms caught me before I hit the mud, one looping around my back, the other under my thighs. He lifted me as if I weighed nothing.
His chest was warm. His skin was rough, real.
He looked down at me, his eyes depthless and narrowed in…
Irritation?Anger?
His voice was a low growl, deep and menacing, wrapping itself around me.
“Stupid girl.”
And then, everything went black.
MIRA
Iwoke to heat.
It wasn’t the cold, damp fog of the forest, or the bone-deep chill of fear, but a heavy, thick, tangible heat. This warmth had weight: furs beneath me, firelight dancing against stone, the low hiss of wet wood crackling in the hearth.
And breath. I heard it, faintly.
Not mine.
His.
Every muscle in my body stiffened as I remembered. Everything hurt—my knees, my shoulder, the side of my head throbbing like a war drum. My dress clung to me, damp and crusted with old blood. I stank. I knew it before I even lifted a hand.
But that wasn’t what made my stomach clench.
Hewas across the room, crouched low, his back to me.
Theorc.
Huge.How could I forget how huge he was? And now he was shirtless, bathed in the flickering glow of the fire.
He was coiled like a predator, one knee bent, his elbow resting on it. A curved blade gleamed in his hand as he turned itslowly, a rag in the other, stroking the steel with deliberate care. The blood smeared across his forearms was mostly dry now, but his skin remained streaked with it. A dark line trickled down the center of his spine, begging for a taste.
I hadn’t imagined it. The wolves. The axe. The way he moved: silent, sure, born to kill.
Anorc.
He hadn’t noticed I was awake. Or maybe he had. Maybe this was part of the show: let the girl watch the beast, build the tension.
My heart thundered in my chest, but I didn’t dare move. Not yet. I needed information. Where were we? What did he want? Could I run?
