Page 12 of The Orc King's Bride

“There are many dangers outside the kingdom's walls, dangers that could easily overwhelm the most capable warrior.”

“I can take care of myself,” she snaps, her chin lifting defiantly. “I've survived worse than your guards and your forest.”

I raise an eyebrow, intrigued by the hint of her past ordeals. Yet before I can inquire further, she continues speaking.

“Look, I didn't mean to kill your guard,” she admits quietly. “I only wanted to wound him so he'd let me go.”

“And yet, his wounds were fatal.”

“I got lucky,” she says. “Or unlucky. Depends on how you look at it.”

I lean back in my chair. “After hearing your side of the story, I have decided on your punishment.”

She visibly tenses, her eyes snapping back to mine. I can see the fear she is trying to hide, the way her breathing becomes faster and shallower as she waits for my verdict.

“Well? What have you decided?” She is ready to fight, even now. And that only makes me want her more.

“Your punishment will be one full cycle of the seasons spent in the dungeon,” I declare. “Unless…”

Chapter 12

Sloane

There isno way in hell I’m spending a full year rotting in the orc king’s dungeon. “Unless what?” I ask.

From his predatory smile—sexy as hell, despite everything—I know what’s coming before Dexari even says the words. “Unless you agree to be my pleasure slave.”

Still, the words hit me like a punch to the gut. I sit there, frozen, as disappointment washes over me. I had let myself hope that maybe, just maybe, this orc king would be different.

Different from all the other alien males I’ve encountered over the years. Different from the ones who saw me as nothing more than a warm piece of meat to be used and discarded.

After Denari offered me freedom for an heir, I somehow thought his son wouldn’t reduce me to something as demeaning as this.

I steel myself against the emotions threatening to overwhelm me—hurt, disappointment, anger, fear. I won’t let him see how much his words have affected me. I’ve survived worse. I’ll survive this too.

Taking in his chiseled features and infuriatingly handsome face, I know that sleeping with him wouldn’t feel like punishment. But I’m not a whore.

Meeting his gaze, I force my voice to remain steady. “I’ll take the dungeon,” I say, the words tasting bitter on my tongue.

Dexari hesitates, as if he regrets the offer. But that’s not possible. He’s just like all the others.

He opens his mouth to say something, but I cut him off before he can start. “I won’t change my mind.” My tone leaves no room for argument.

He nods. “If you do—”

“I won’t,” I interrupt again. I’m done with this conversation. Done with the false hope, done with the disappointment. But there’s something I need from him before he leaves. “Can I have one more night in this room before you send me to the dungeon?”

Dexari studies me, his dark eyes searching my face. “Yes,” he says. Then, “It does not need to be this way, Sloane.”

I suddenly feel tired. Very, very tired. “It’s always this way,” I say quietly, unable to keep the weight of my experiences from seeping into my voice.

Always.

He gets up from the table to take his leave. “The servants will be back later to remove what is left from our feast.”

“Can you have them wait until morning? I doubt I’ll sleep much and might want a snack later.”

Dexari nods. “As you wish.”

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