Page 18 of Orc's Forbidden Claim

I frown, unsure what is good or if perhaps I misunderstood the Zmaj word he was saying. There is nothing good about any of this. What does he mean good? Then he thrusts his hand out towards me. I blink, taking a moment to realize what he is doing.

I grasp his forearm, and he grasps mine. We step closer, looking into one another’s eyes. I see the fire in his. The resolve. And I see the love of his mate.

We shake twice and hold.

“For love,” I say.

“For Tajss,” he says, and we shake again.

Differences set aside we resume the hunt for our mates.

11

SAYLOR

We’ve been stopped for quite some time. The tunnel we’re marching along branches in two directions. The Urr’ki have been arguing with each other in their language. Wren and I are sitting with our backs to the tunnel wall. Three Urr’ki are in a loose formation around us but none of them are paying attention to the two of us.

“Wren?” I whisper. She looks over. Her eyes are sunken and dull. She sniffles and coughs softly. I’m sure that she’s getting sick. It’s cold and neither of us is dressed warmly. “You okay?”

She sniffles, dabs at her nose with the sleeve of her blouse, then nods. I frown as worry builds. As if it’s not bad enough we’ve been captured by these jerks, her getting sick makes it even worse.

“I’m fine,” she whispers. “A little stuffy.”

I nod, not wanting to attract unwanted attention. Two of the Urr’ki get into a shoving match, pushing each other back and forth. The others watch with what looks like mild amusement. No wonder these guys are losing to the Zmaj.

“Wren, earring,” I whisper.

The look of confusion on her face makes my stomach sink. I nod towards her ears. She has silver hoops in. I want her to be ready to leave a sign for which tunnel they take us down. I don’t have anything left on me to drop but I also don’t want to say it out loud. These Urr’ki speak Zmaj, and I don’t know that they might not also speak Common. The bastards are sneaky that way.

I dart my eyes to her ears and back. She blinks and then shakes her head. I bite my lip trying to figure out a way to get her to understand without saying it. I scooch closer, then lean in close. When my lips are next to her ear I whisper.

“Drop an earring when they?—”

I’m cut off roughly by a hand jerking me away from her. The Urr’ki thrusts me hard against the wall knocking my breath out. I wheeze trying to get my air back.

“Let her be!” Wren yells, jumping up but another Urr’ki is ready.

He catches her mid-jump with a big hand on her shoulder and shoves her down on to her ass with a loud thump. She cries out in pain while I’m still trying to get my lungs to work the way they're supposed to.

“Asshole,” Wren curses in Common.

“Heh,” the Urr’ki that pushed her down grunts.

He lifts his foot and cocks it back as if he’s going to kick her. She does the only sensible thing she can and cowers away from the incoming blow, trying to protect herself. The bastard laughs and so does the one in front of me.

I will see you pay for that you sons of bitches.

I don’t say it out loud, but I swear it to myself and to any gods that might be listening. By Tajss I will make sure they feel the pain they’ve caused. Their empty eyes are dead. It’s frightening. I’ve been with Khiara long enough now to know how different he is. His eyes are warm and caring, these Urr’ki eyes are nothing. As if there isn’t a soul inside their bodies, they’re just evil meat running around inflicting pain and harm on the world.

Thankfully he puts his foot down without following through on the threat. He continues to chuckle as he turns and walks away. I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything like the emotions I am right now. I’ve been angry before, so angry I couldn’t see straight and could barely think but this, this is different. The only word I can come up with that comes close to encompassing what I am feeling is hate.

I hate these monsters. They are nothing like Khiara and I know, because of him and his brother, that not all Urr’ki are like this, but he’s talked enough about the Shaman and his closest adherents for me to understand. Some of the Urr’ki are evil. Evil in every sense of the word.

Glaring, I look at each of them in turn, and only now do I notice that some of them look different. There are three of the six captors who don’t seem to be enjoying the casual acts of cruelty. They are huddled together, off to one side, watching, but not participating. Two of them have deep frowns on their faces and narrowed eyes. The third one’s hands are balled into tight fists, and he is shaking with barely suppressed rage.

The others ignore those three. Either unobservant and ignorant or dismissive, I’m not sure which. I’m hoping for ignorance. That they don’t see what I see in those three. Hope. Slim though it might be, it’s better than nothing. Maybe, just maybe, we can use their dislike of what is happening to our advantage.

Wren tentatively unfolds from her protective ball. When nothing bad happens, she pushes herself back to a sitting position. She’s pale and her eyes are wide which fuels the hate in my heart. I glare at our captors. Ineffective as it may be, I can only wish harm on them, for now.

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