Page 30 of The Orc's Captive Bride
“We’ll visit her together in a few hours,” the High King continued. “Give her time to bathe and compose herself. I want her… presentable when I explain her purpose.”
A few hours. It wasn’t enough time to build the walls he needed. Not enough distance to kill the warmth that still lingered from her kiss.
“As you command.”
He bowed and turned to leave, but Lasseran’s voice stopped him.
“Oh, and Khorrek? Remember your place. The woman is a tool, nothing more. I would hate for you to develop… inappropriate attachments.”
The words were casual. The threat beneath them was not.
“Of course, High King. She means nothing to me.”
The lie tasted like poison in his mouth.
Lasseran smiled. “Good. See that it stays that way.”
He bowed again and left the audience chamber with the key burning a hole in his pocket and his Beast screaming in his mind.
Mate. Ours. Protect.
She’s not ours. She never can be.
OURS.
He walked through corridors he’d traversed a thousand times, each step carrying him further from Lasseran’s chambers and closer to… nowhere. He only had a few hours before he had to return. He had to rebuild his control and forget the taste of her lips. Most of all he had to forget the way she’d looked at him as if he were something more than a monster.
The barracks would be full of warriors at this hour, but the training yards would be empty, and he automatically headed for them.
The evening air was cool against his face as he stepped into one of the yards. It was indeed deserted, just packed earth and weapon racks and training dummies showing the wear of daily combat.
He grabbed a training sword, the weight familiar and grounding. Then he attacked the dummy with mechanical precision. Strike. Block. Counter. The patterns that had been drilled into him over years of training.
But his mind wouldn’t quiet. He kept remembering her small hand catching his arm, and the vulnerability in her voice when she asked if she’d see him again.
He struck harder, and the dummy rocked under the impact.
She’d thanked him with a sincerity that had cut deeper than any blade.
Another strike. Wood splintered.
Then she’d closed the distance he’d been maintaining so carefully and kissed him.Trusted him.
The training sword shattered against the dummy’s head, and he stood there, breathing hard and staring at the broken weapon in his hand.
His Beast wasn’t roaring anymore—it was waiting.
She is ours. We are hers.
“No,” he said aloud. “I won’t do that to her.”
Because loving him—if that’s what the mate bond meant, if the wild orcs were right—would only bring her pain. He was Lasseran’s creature, his weapon, and weapons didn’t get to keep precious things.
Ensure her cooperation.
The words echoed in his mind. He was responsible for her now, for keeping her alive and obedient and focused on whatever task Lasseran had planned.
Which meant he had to stay close to her but somehow resist the pull that grew stronger every moment they were together.
