Page 72 of The Orc's Captive Bride
The High King’s private chambers were exactly as they’d always been. Elegant. Expensive. Cold.
Lasseran stood in his favorite position by the window, his back to the room. His silver hair caught the light like molten metal.
“You’re late.”
“I came as soon as I received your summons.” He kept his voice neutral.
“I sent for you an hour ago.”
An hour. Had it really been that long since he’d left the library? Since he’d fled like a coward instead of staying with Thea?
Because touching her is dangerous. Because wanting her is weakness.
“My apologies, High King.”
Lasseran finally turned, his pale eyes chips of ice.
“Tell me about the girl’s progress.”
“She works diligently. Master Vorlag believes she’s making good headway with the translation.”
“Headway is not completion. I gave her a deadline, Khorrek. Three days. Half of which is now gone.”
“The text is complex?—”
“I don’t care about complexity. I care about results.” Lasseran moved closer, each step measured and predatory. “Do you understand what’s at stake here?”
“Yes, High King.”
“Do you?” Those empty eyes studied him. “Because I’m beginning to wonder if you’ve forgotten where your loyalties lie.”
His blood turned to ice.
He knows. Somehow he knows.
“My loyalty has always been to you.”
“Has it?” Lasseran circled him slowly. “You spend an inordinate amount of time with this translator. You stand guard outside her rooms at night. You carry her to bed when she falls asleep working.”
Only his training enabled him to keep his face composed.
“You ordered me to protect her. To ensure she completes her task.”
“I ordered you to guard her. Not coddle her like a favored pet.”
He forced himself to remain still. To keep breathing normally.
“I ensure she remains healthy and focused. A tired, frightened translator is less effective.”
“How pragmatic.” Lasseran’s tone suggested he didn’t believe a word. “And the fact that she’s attractive has nothing to do with your… attentiveness?”
“She’s a human.”
“Yes. A soft, weak, inferior human.” Lasseran stopped directly in front of him. “Surely you haven’t forgotten what you are, Khorrek. What I made you.”
What I made you. Not who.What.
He was only a tool, a thing to be used and discarded. His Beast snarled.
