Page 49 of The Orc's Promised Bride

The words came out in a savage growl, barely recognizable as human. The other orc laughed and his Beast’s fury surged.

“Lasseran is right. You are all just savages, undeserving of mates. Of a future.”

He charged at the other male again and the male ducked, rolling smoothly to his feet.

“Why would the Old Gods waste their gifts on such as you? They will not allow it. They will not let her be yours.”

The words echoed his own doubts, but his mate’s scent, her proximity, drowned out his fears. His mate needed him, and nothing would stop him from protecting her. The words didn’tmatter. Nothing mattered except eliminating the threat to his mate.

“She is mine. Now and always,” he growled, and his Beast roared in agreement.

They grappled for control, the male’s superior height and reach no match for his Beast’s raw power. His claws sank into the other’s chest, drawing first blood, but the male showed no pain, his eyes turning black as his own Beast responded.

His world narrowed to a single point of focus - the male standing between him and his mate. The Curse roared through his system, demanding blood. He charged forward, muscles bunching as he launched himself at his opponent, but the other male responded with equal force, their bodies crashing together with bone-jarring impact as the sound of their collision echoed through the forest.

His Beast recognized an equal opponent - a warrior with skills to match his own - but that only made him more determined to emerge victorious. His mate’s scent, still tinged with fear, only added to his fury, and he slammed the male into a massive oak, feeling ribs crack under the impact.

The male recovered quickly, driving his knee up into his stomach. They separated for a moment, circling each other warily, both of them bleeding. Their growls filled the clearing, primitive and threatening. Neither male would yield.

The other male fought with the skill of a trained warrior, but his rage gave him strength beyond mere combat training. Each blow he landed felt more powerful than the last. He charged again and this time the other male stumbled backwards.

His world narrowed to a single point of focus - the male who dared touch his mate. His claws dug deeper into the other male’s flesh as he slammed him against a tree trunk again, his hands wrapping around his opponent’s throat.

“She’s mine,” he snarled, his voice barely recognizable. His grip tightened, feeling the pulse of life beneath his fingers. One quick twist would end this threat forever.

The male’s eyes blazed with defiance even as he struggled for breath. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, yet he refused to submit.

“Lothar! Don’t!”

Jana’s voice cut through the red haze of his rage, the need to respond to her voice stronger than even the Beast’s bloodlust. His head instinctively turned towards her, his body responding to her call.

That moment of distraction cost him. The other male’s claws raked across his throat, drawing blood. The sharp pain shocked him enough that his opponent managed to twist free of his grip.

Blood trickled down his neck but before he could finish what he’d started, his mate put her small hand on her arm and shook her head.

“Please don’t.”

She had positioned herself between them - a fact that made his Beast howl in protest - but even though rage still hummed through his veins, he couldn’t resist her plea.

“Why not?” he growled.

CHAPTER 24

Jana quickly tried to think of a way to explain herself to Lothar. Relief had flooded her when he’d raced into the clearing - relief immediately replaced by shock. He wasn’t the Lothar she knew. His eyes had transformed into bottomless black pools, his usual playful expression replaced by something feral and savage. His massive frame seemed to have grown even larger, radiating raw power and barely contained fury.

Her breath caught in her throat as those pitch-black eyes found her. The growl that rumbled from his chest was unlike anything she’d ever heard - primitive and threatening. Yet somehow she knew, deep in her bones, that the threat wasn’t directed at her.

Before she could process what was happening, he’d launched himself at Khorrek with frightening speed. Gone was the graceful warrior she knew - this was pure predator, driven by instinct and rage.

She pressed harder against the tree trunk, her heart hammering against her ribs. She’d thought she understood what Lothar meant when he spoke of the Beast Curse, but seeing it first handwas entirely different. Raw power radiated from him in waves, making the air itself feel charged with electricity.

Part of her wanted to run, to hide from this display of primal violence. But a deeper part recognized that even in this state, transformed by fury and protective instinct, Lothar had come for her. He was still her Lothar, just stripped down to his most basic drives - and chief among those was protecting her.

That knowledge had given her the courage to intervene.

“He’s following orders,” she said, fighting to keep her voice steady.

“What?” Lothar snarled, turning towards her again.

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