Page 4 of The Brute and the Blade

"Sleep well, little blade," I murmur. "You're going to need your rest. We have a lot of work ahead of us, you and I."

I straighten, my hand falling away. She'll wake soon enough, and the real battle will begin. A battle of wills, of dominance and submission. And by the time it's over, she'll be forever changed.

As will I. Because looking down at her now, I feel a strange certainty settling into my bones. This girl, this fearsome, fascinating creature...she's going to be the making of me. Or the breaking.

Either way, I can hardly wait to find out.

I turn and stride from the cell, the heavy door clanging shut behind me. Let her sleep for now, gathering her strength. She'll need every ounce of it for what's to come.

And so will I. Because I have a feeling that taming Lily Thornwood is going to be the greatest challenge of my life.

And the greatest pleasure.

3

Lily

I wake with a start, my heart pounding and my head throbbing. For a moment I'm disoriented, staring up at an unfamiliar stone ceiling, my body aching in a dozen places. Then memory comes rushing back and I sit bolt upright, panic clawing at my throat.

The battle. Grok. My capture.

I'm in a cell, rough-hewn from the living rock. A single flickering torch provides the only light, casting dancing shadows on the walls. I'm lying on a thin pallet, my armor and weapons gone, leaving me in just my sweat-stained tunic and breeches.

I take a deep breath, forcing down the surge of fear and despair. I can't afford to fall apart now. I need to think, to plan. To find a way out of this nightmare.

Slowly, I push myself to my feet, wincing as bruised muscles protest. I pace the small confines of the cell, examining every inch, looking for any weakness, any opportunity. But the walls are solid and seamless, the door a thick slab of iron-bound oak. There's no window, no access to the outside world beyond a small, barred opening at the top of the door.

I'm well and truly trapped. A prisoner in the heart of the enemy's stronghold.

But I'm also alive. Grok brought me here for a reason, and until I know what that reason is, there's still hope. I just need to stay calm, to keep my wits about me and watch for any chance to turn the tables.

As if summoned by my thoughts, I hear the clang of a lock and the door swings open. Two ogre guards stand outside, massive and menacing in their dark armor. One of them jerks his head at me, his eyes glinting with cruel amusement.

"On your feet, human. The warlord wants to see you."

For a moment I consider refusing, making them drag me out by force. But something tells me that defiance, at least the physical kind, won't serve me here. So I square my shoulders and step forward, holding my head high as they clap manacles around my wrists.

They march me through the stronghold, and despite my situation, I can't help but marvel at the sheer scale and grandeur of it. Towering halls carved from gleaming obsidian, intricate tapestries depicting great battles and hunts, the air thick with the scent of smoke and roasting meat. It's a far cry from the crude camps and caverns I'd always imagined ogres inhabiting.

But there's a harshness to it too, a sense of barely restrained violence simmering just beneath the surface. Everywhere I look I see warriors, huge and heavily muscled, their skin marked with scars and fierce tattoos. They watch me pass with hungry eyes, their gazes raking over me like I'm a particularly juicy piece of meat.

I suppress a shudder, holding myself stiff and unyielding. I won't let them see my fear. I am Lily Thornwood, the Red Blade. I've faced down warbands and monstrous beasts. I will not cower before a pack of leering ogres.

Finally, we reach a set of massive double doors, intricately carved with scenes of battle and slaughter. The guards shove them open and prod me forward into a vast, vaulted chamber lit by great iron braziers.

And there, lounging on a throne of blackened bone at the far end of the hall, is Grok.

He looks different here, in the heart of his power. Clad in rich furs and gleaming black armor, his massive form seems to fill the space, radiating strength and menace. His amber eyes glitter in the firelight as he watches me approach, a faint smile playing about his lips.

"Lily Thornwood," he says, his deep voice echoing off the stone walls. "Welcome to Bloodclaw Stronghold. I trust you slept well?"

Anger flashes through me, hot and bright. How dare he lounge there, smirking, like this is some sort of social call? Like he didn't just rip me away from my people, my purpose, everything I've ever known?

"Spare me the pleasantries, Grok," I snap, my voice cracking like a whip. "What is this? Why have you brought me here?"

He regards me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he rises from the throne, unfolding his huge frame with a casual grace that belies his size. He steps down from the dais, moving towards me with the slow, deliberate tread of a predator.

"Straight to the point, aren't you?" he muses, circling me slowly. "I like that about you, little blade. No frills, no pretense. Just steel and fire."

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