Page 48 of The Orc's Promised Bride

His voice was little more than a growl and he saw them exchange nervous glances, their hands dropping to the hilts of their swords.

“No,” the younger male said, his voice exaggeratedly calm. “That is why we guard this one.”

He forced himself to think past the increasing panic.

“What about deliveries? Supplies?”

The younger male sighed.

“They all come through here. We are sworn to protect the Brides.”

The older male nodded his agreement, then rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“The outer wall is lowest in the rear gardens. Perhaps some of it has decayed over time?”

The younger male started to argue but he didn’t bother to listen. The suggestion was a ray of hope, no matter how tiny.

The gardens. Of course - she loved plants and he could easily imagine her venturing out into the gardens. He raced through the inner gardens, scanning the neat rows of herbs and flowers. Nothing. But there, at the edge of his awareness - her scent drifted from the overgrown rear garden.

He followed the trail despite the myriad of scents from the riotous growth, pushing through tangles of vines and branches.Her scent grew stronger, mixed with the sharp tang of fear. His Beast roared to life, his muscles rippling as the transformation began. His vision sharpened as his predator’s instincts took over.

Another scent overlaid hers - male, aggressive, threatening. His mate had been afraid. His mate had been taken.

His Beast’s fury exploded through him, his body growing larger and more powerful as he threw back his head and roared, the sound echoing off the convent walls. His claws raked through the vines, revealing weathered stone beneath. His enhanced vision caught the outline of a doorway, cunningly hidden in the wall. Her scent grew stronger here, tinged with the acrid taste of her terror.

He tore the door open, leaving it hanging by a broken hinge as he raced into the forest. The scents were even clearer now - his mate’s terror, the male’s aggression, their path marked as clearly as footprints to his enhanced senses.

The last threads of his human consciousness dissolved under his Beast’s single-minded purpose.Find mate. Protect mate. Kill threats.

He launched himself forward, powerful muscles propelling him into the forest. The hunt had begun.

His enhanced senses caught every detail of her journey. She’d stumbled here - his claws dug into the earth at the thought of her fear. And here she tried to break free but the male had prevented her. The male’s scent wrapped around hers, heavy with aggression and dominance. Each sign of her struggle fed his rage.

The forest blurred past him as he ran, dodging trees and leaping fallen logs with inhuman grace. His Beast knew only one truth - his mate needed him. Nothing else mattered. Not the convent, not Jessamin’s illness, not even his own humanity.

Her scent grew stronger, fresher, and he knew was gaining on them. His muscles burned with effort but he pushed harder, faster. The Beast’s strength flooded through him, transforming him further with each stride. His bones cracked and reformed, his body growing larger, more powerful.

A branch whipped across his face, drawing blood, but he barely noticed. His mate’s fear-scent drove him forward, each breath of it stoking his fury.

The trail veered sharply left, heading deeper into the mountains, and his lips pulled back in a snarl. The male was trying to lose him in the rough terrain, but no force on earth could stop him from finding his mate.

He launched himself over a fallen tree, his claws leaving deep gouges in the bark. The Beast’s instincts merged with his own determination, creating a single-minded focus.Find mate. Protect mate. Destroy anyone who threatened her.

The forest thinned ahead, revealing a steep rocky slope. Fresh scents told him they’d passed this way mere minutes ago. He was close. So close.

He caught the sound of voices ahead - one female and frightened, one male and threatening. His mate’s distress called to him like a beacon. His Beast roared, the sound echoing through the trees, announcing his coming fury.

He burst through the underbrush into a small clearing, his enhanced vision taking in every detail. Jana pressed againsta tree trunk. Another orc looming over her. The male’s head snapped around at his entrance, eyes widening in shock at the sight of his transformed state.

He didn’t hesitate, launching himself across the clearing with his claws extended. His only thought was to eliminate the threat to his mate. The other orc barely managed to dodge the initial attack, stumbling backwards as Lothar’s claws raked the air where his throat had been.

“You dare touch what’s mine?”

“You don’t deserve her,” the other male snarled, and the shock of that statement was enough to make him stumble.

He recovered almost immediately but not quickly enough to avoid a painful blow to his abdomen. His mate let out a terrified cry, her fear and distress fueling his rage.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

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