Page 25 of Bewitching the Orc Chief

Osen’s voice cut through my rising panic. His eyes never left Coth as he shrugged out of his shirt, and I knew with suddenclarity there were no options. Not really. My path had made room for another at my side, and we would see it to whatever end it led us.

Osen squared his shoulders, jaw clenched. “Don’t expect me to go easy just because we’re kin.”

“Neither will I, boy.” Coth’s grin was feral as he drew his ax.

He lunged without warning, ax whistling through the air where Osen’s head had been a heartbeat before. My mate rolled smoothly to his feet, hands empty.

Something was wrong. Murmurs of ‘honor’ and ‘cheating’ ran through the crowd. Coth barked a humorless laugh, shifting his stance to compensate for his opponent’s disadvantage.

“Ax!” Osen called out, dodging another vicious swing. “Give me an ax!”

No one moved. My eyes darted frantically around the gathered clan members.

Osen dodged another brutal swing, but he couldn’t keep this up forever. Already sweat glistened on his bare torso as he continued to evade rather than engage. And still the other orcs made no move to offer assistance.

Rage boiled within me as I watched the scene unfold. They were his people. His friends. Relatives. How could they stand by and do nothing as Coth sought to kill the man they claimed to respect?

Blood sprayed as Coth’s blade found its mark, opening a deep gash across Osen’s shoulder. A pained grunt escaped my mate’s lips, but he remained upright. Jeers sounded from somewhere in the crowd.

The rage became a roaring fire in my veins. I focused it into a burning ball of energy, letting the magic build between my palms.

Metal scraped against leather, drawing my attention to Galan. He pulled his weapon free and hesitated for just amoment before hurling it at Osen’s feet. My mate wasted no time snatching it up and bracing himself for the next blow.

Coth charged with a roar, weapon swinging and hacking with no grace or precision. For the first time, Osen met his assault—metal sang against metal, sparks flying as blade clashed with blade.

My mate shoved Coth back, aiming a blow at his throat. The older orc danced out of the way, then brought his weapon down in a hammer-strike aimed at Osen’s skull. My mate blocked at the last second, driving Coth’s ax into the ground.

I fought to keep my breath steady as a ripple of wrongness brushed against my senses. Glancing around, I spotted my former mentor moving slowly in my direction, fingers flexing as if readying to cast. And there—Alris drumming his fingers on his staff, eyes latched on the orcs fighting for control of the clan.

That cheating bastard!

Osen stumbled, ax slipping in his grip. I reached for my power without thought, magic humming in my veins as I prepared to counteract. “Rend asunder, br?—”

Pain shot through my arm as Maura’s fingers clamped around my wrist like a vise. Her touch sent needles of ice through my veins, a reminder of the power she wielded.

“Still so predictable.” Her breath ghosted across my ear. “Always ready to sabotage your betters.”

“Let. Go.” Each word dripped venom as I tried to wrench free.

“Look!” Maura’s voice carried across the crowd. “See how she attempts to corrupt your sacred duel!”

“No, I—” The words died in my throat as silver tendrils of power wrapped around my arms and chest.

“Poor little Miranda.” Lisabet materialized on my other side, her silver eyes gleaming with false concern. “So lost, so corrupted. Let us help her before she brings further ruin.”

Then pain exploded through my chest. They were trying to rip out my demon mark—and with it, every scrap of knowledge and power I possessed. My knees buckled as the sisters began their feast, drinking in my power like fine wine.

I tried to focus on Osen through the haze of pain. He’d lost his weapon, his ax lying broken nearby. Now he and Coth traded brutal punches, neither willing to yield.

Blood ran down Osen’s chest from the earlier wound. His attention kept darting to me, leaving openings in his defense. Coth’s meaty fist connected with his jaw. My mate staggered but stayed upright.

Mine. They were hurting what was mine.

I tried to scream, but it came out as little more than a whimper.

More silver cords wrapped around me, drawing out essence and memory alike. The day I perfected my first protection charm. Gone. The satisfaction of brewing my first successful healing potion. Stripped away. The warmth of Osen’s arms. The taste of his kiss. They couldn’t take that, could they?

A battle cry split the air. Torain burst from the crowd, face twisted in fury. He barreled into Maura and sent her sprawling. Galan followed a heartbeat later, blade flashing as he swung for Sylas.

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