Page 18 of Scoring the Orc

“What asked was for shit to get done. Not for you to be falling all over yourself like you’re begging for my approval.” I sneer.

“I don’t give a fuck about your approval!” Her eyes widen as soon as the words are out of her mouth and she tries to pull back from me, one hand coming up to cover the lower half of her face.

But fuck, my dick jerks at the way she just yelled at me. Not because I want her to try and dominate me because I can already picture her ass red as I punish her, tears covering her face. And damn if I don’t want that right this second.

But I only want it when I know she’ll fight back.

I’ve come to realize I could have already taken her. But I don’t want her to let me. I don’t even want her to give it. I want to rip it from her, just like I ripped her life and choices away. I want everything to be mine.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean?—”

I scoff, the apology immediately filling me with anger. It’s not what I want. I have no interest in apologies. I want a fight and then her eventual tears as I break her down into my perfect little mold.

Disgusted, I shove her away. “Get back to work,” I snarl as I stalk out of the room, annoyed.

Emilia has been avoiding me for days, and my entire team has felt the wrath of it. I nearly broke Borka’s arm today, and yet, I still haven’t managed to calm myself. Not with every thought and reminder of this woman who has driven me out of my godsdamnned mind.

My body is thrumming with rage that I can’t seem to work out in the arena as I approach the house. It has to come out, and I only have one outlet, one way to unleash all my rage as I fight the battle warring in me.

I want this woman in pieces at my feet and I want her thrash as I do it and beg for me to do it again. And yet, she has been too obedient for me to find any satisfaction in this. To have what I want.

The door nearly comes off its hinges as I slam it behind me. Inside, the house is quiet except for the faint sounds of Emilia working. I follow the noise to the kitchen, where I find her scrubbing the countertops, her small frame moving with determined diligence. She doesn’t notice me at first, too absorbed in her task. But when she senses my presence, she stiffens, her hand pausing mid-swipe.

“Missing your cozy elf house, little human?” I rumble, leaning close to her with a mocking grin.

Emilia’s brows draw together in a scowl. “My name is Emilia,” she retorts crisply. “And I wish to serve my duties in peace.”

I laugh, taken aback by the sudden appearance of her audacity, but pleased that it’s finally coming out. Her defiance is a spark in the dull routine of her compliance, one I’ve been waiting for. Her fiery spirit belies her frail appearance, and I am craving to see more of this boldness emerge.

“What a mouth on you. You act as if you can tell me what to do. You belong to me now, Emilia,” I say, savoring her name. “Don’t forget that.”

She meets my gaze, her green eyes flashing with a mixture of fear and defiance. “I haven’t forgotten,” she says quietly, returning to her scrubbing with renewed vigor.

There’s something about her spirit that calls to me, a challenge I can’t resist. I step closer, looming over her. “You’re supposed to be cleaning, not daydreaming,” I taunt, watching for her reaction.

Emilia’s hands tremble slightly, but she doesn’t stop working. “I’m doing my best,” she says through gritted teeth. I move closer, my body practically pressed up against hers.

Emilia pauses, her hands stilling on the dish. She looks up at me, and to my surprise, there’s a fierce anger in her eyes. It’s a look that sends a jolt through me, something dark – an unhealthy desire. It awakens something primal within me.

“Do better,” my voice is barely more than a low grumble.

I take a step closer, my gaze locking onto hers. The tension between us is palpable, a charged silence. But then she lifts her chin in the slightest show of defiance, one she hasn’t given yet.

I feel a dark thrill at her resistance. Breaking her will be a pleasure, a challenge that excites me more than any battle ever could. And I can’t wait until she is begging me to completely undo her, until her hate melts into a deep need. She can despise me – I’d prefer it that way, really – but she’ll also want me.

She’ll want me to be her fucking reckoning. I’ll make sure of it.

13

EMILIA

“What else do you want from me?” I’m seething at this point.

I have tried for weeks now to keep my anger under control. At first, I was sad and scared. Jurto was bullying me and he is massive and fearsome.

But over time, those feelings have morphed. And I am sick of being treated like this, like I am the cause of all his fucking burdens when I’ve done nothing to him. At this point, I am worked to the bone for nothing, and I don’t give a shit if he does hit me or punish me. I’d fucking take it to be able to finally say what’s on my mind.

Jurto’s eyes narrow at my outburst, and he takes a step closer, his presence looming over me like a dark storm. “What did you just say?” he growls, his voice low and dangerous.

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