Page 12 of Orc's Forbidden Claim

A Zmaj rips the leather that serves as a door aside so hard it comes down in a heap. He throws it to the side and storms in. I do not recognize him, but his rage is palpable.

“You!” he roars pointing a finger between Dilacs and me.

He rushes forward and right into the six guards. They try to stop him, but his momentum carries them with him. They cling to him ineffectively, as if they are no more than a child’s dolls. I take a step ahead, ready to meet him head-on.

“Me,” I growl, cocking a fist and letting it fly for his ugly lizard face.

My fist lands with a hard crack. His head snaps to the side, and he grunts in pain. Two guards let go of him and jump onto me. I fight to break free so I can finish what I started. The lizard is also trying to break free. The room reverberates with our mingling roars and battle cries.

“Enough!” a new voice commands.

The tone of the voice and the way it carries brooks no denial. I stop fighting and before I can see who gave the order, I see the Zmaj did as well. I look for the source and see her. A human. Tall with gray at her temples stares with an imperious gaze. She is also very, very pregnant. Her belly is swollen to the point she looks as if she must burst at any moment. Pregnancy or no, it doesn’t matter. She commands the room by her very presence.

A lizard stands behind her wearing a breastplate made of bones. That must be the Al’fa, leader of the Cavern Zmaj. The one who has plotted the demise of my people for longer than I have beenalive. Seeing him, I growl, but then someone touches my arm. My Queen presses her hand onto me as she moves to stand in front of Dilacs and me. She’s placing herself between the two groups.

“Lady Rosalind, Al’fa of the Zmaj,” she says, bowing her head. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”

Quickly? I could have caught the infiltrators and saved her by now.

I keep my mouth shut. I respect my Queen too much to let my mouth run off with every thought that pops into my head.

“Queen Rani,” the human she called Rosalind says, moving forward and bowing her head. “Forgive me if I don’t curtsy, I am,” she motions her hands around her swollen stomach.

“Of course,” my Queen says with a bright smile. “I assume you are due soon?”

“Yes,” Rosalind says. “But we have a more pressing problem, do we not?”

“I am not sure it isourproblem,” the Zmaj Al’fa says, moving past everyone and going to stand on the far side of the table that dominates the room.

Everyone turns towards him. The Zmaj with the broken horn and milky eye goes to stand on his left and another, one of the monster Zmaj, enters and stands on his right. The rest of the Zmaj move back to stand against the walls except the one I punched. He is rubbing his jaw as he moves to stand next to me. I give him a side-eyed look and he frowns as a low growl slips from his lips.

Rosalind inserts herself between the two of us and then motions that my Queen should be at her side. Queen Rani moving in forces me to take another step aside, which I do for her.

“Al’fa,” Rosalind says. “They have taken two of my people. I am not going to stand by and let that happen.”

“My mate!” the Zmaj I punched yells.

“I know, Sek’su,” the Al’fa says. “But they have tunneled past our defenses. I cannot send warriors out until we are sure of the security of the compound.”

“I will not wait here while they do…” Sek’su strangles off and he doesn’t finish.

“Nor will I,” I say, leaning onto the table and growling. “We must save the females.”

“I say again, this is not my primary concern,” the Al’fa says. “I have to protect the compound.”

He motions across the table that has the compound carved in miniature.

“Your words are wise,” Queen Rani says. “But I also agree with Rosalind. We cannot let the Shaman have any more of our people. You do not know what he will do to them. Anything they know, he will. They can help him in ways you cannot imagine.”

“I cannot afford to waste a single life,” Rosalind says. “There are too few of us as it is. Our future depends on all of us surviving. I will not let them go.”

“I cannot send a force against them,” the Al’fa says. “Not now.”

“Not a force then,” the one-horned, milky-eyed Zmaj says.

“What are you thinking?” the Al’fa asks.

“A strike team,” the monstrous Zmaj with the freaky tail and extra arms says looking right at me. “Small. Effective.”

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