Page 25 of Her Rugged Orcs

His blue eyes darken, and I feel a flutter of triumph. Let him think he's winning. Let him believe I'm falling for their act. I can turn their manipulation back on them, use what I know best—my body, my touch, my carefully crafted facade of vulnerability.

I lean in and press my lips against Murok's, expecting to feel nothing but the cold satisfaction of manipulation. Instead, his mouth meets mine with a gentleness that steals my breath. His hand cups my face, his thumb brushing my cheek with tenderness.

This isn't how it's supposed to go. I know how to use kisses as weapons, but Murok kisses me like I'm something precious, something worth savoring. His braids brush against my skin as he deepens the kiss, and I find myself melting into him despite every screaming instinct to pull away.

I should stop this. But when his tongue traces my bottom lip, asking rather than demanding, I part my lips with a soft sigh. His other hand finds my waist, steady and warm through the fabric of my dress.

The kiss turns hungry, desperate, but there's still that underlying gentleness that makes my heart race. No expectations, no demands – just the pure heat of desire and something else, something that feels dangerously like caring. His mouth moves against mine with a passion that makes me forget why I started this in the first place.

18

GRASH

The firewood in my arms falls to the ground, forgotten, as I stand frozen in the entrance of the ruins. The scene before me burns into my mind like a brand. Eira's pale fingers thread through Murok's dark braids as she kisses him, her body leaning into his like she belongs there. The firelight plays across their skin, making shadows dance, turning the moment into something intimate that claws at my chest.

My hands clench into fists, my muscles coiling tight beneath my tattoos. Each heartbeat pounds in my ears like a war drum. The beast inside me, the one I've kept caged since claiming her in the pits, roars to life.

Murok's hand slides up her back, and something primal snaps inside of me. The blood in my veins turns to liquid fire. I've felt jealousy before - watching other warriors claim glory in battle, seeing others earn our chief's favor - but this? This is different. This is rage and possession and need all twisted together into something dangerous.

The stone wall beneath my fingers cracks. I don't remember reaching for it, but I feel the rough edges bite into my palm. Thepain grounds me, keeps me from charging forward like the beast I am. But only barely.

She was mine first. I claimed her, protected her, carried her when she couldn't walk. And now Murok, with his clever words and calculating mind, claims her like he has the right.

The firelight catches her face as she pulls back slightly from the kiss. Her eyes are closed, lips parted, and seeing her looking so vulnerable makes my chest constrict. She looks... peaceful. It should please me to see her finally trusting, finally letting her guard down.

Instead, it makes me want to tear these ruins apart stone by stone.

My boots thunder against the stone floor as I charge toward them, each step fueled by primal rage. The scattered firewood crunches beneath my feet. Thunder crashes outside, matching the storm in my blood.

"What. Is. This?" The words tear from my throat, guttural and raw.

They break apart, startled. Eira's lips are still parted, flushed from Murok's kiss. Her green eyes meet mine, wide with surprise, then something else – regret? Fear? The sight of her looking at me like that tears at something deep within me.

My hands shake as I tower over them both. Rain pounds against the ruins outside, but all I hear is my own ragged breathing. The tribal tattoos across my chest seem to burn as my muscles coil tight with barely contained fury.

Eira's blonde hair falls across her face as she looks down, her fingers twisting in her lap. The firelight catches the curve of her neck where Murok's hand had been moments ago. Mine. The word pounds through my head with each heartbeat.

I drop to my knees before her, close enough to feel the heat radiating from her body. My hand moves of its own accord, myfingers brushing her chin, tilting her face up to mine. Her pulse flutters beneath my touch like a trapped bird.

"Look at me," I growl, softer now, desperate. The anger melts into something else, something that makes my chest ache. Her eyes finally meet mine, and I see confusion there, vulnerability, and something that makes my breath catch.

The rain continues its steady drumming against stone outside, but here, in this moment, time seems to stop. My thumb traces her bottom lip, still warm from another's kiss. The beast in me roars, demanding I claim what's mine.

I grasp her waist and pull her up against me, my large hands spanning her ribs. The firelight dances across her face, catching the gold in her pale hair, making her green eyes shimmer like precious stones. My blood thunders through my veins as I crush my mouth to hers.

Her lips part beneath mine, soft and yielding, and something primal inside me roars in triumph. This is what I've wanted since I first saw her in those cursed pits – not just to protect her, but to claim her, to make her mine.

My fingers tangle in her hair, tilting her head back as I deepen the kiss. She makes a soft sound in the back of her throat that sets my blood on fire. Her hands slide up my chest, tracing the tribal tattoos there, and I growl against her mouth. Every touch brands me, marks me as hers just as surely as I'm marking her as mine.

To my surprise and fierce pleasure, she presses closer, her body molding against mine like she was meant to fit there. Her fingers dig into my shoulders as she matches my intensity, claiming me right back. The beast in me purrs with satisfaction.

I break the kiss only to trail my lips down her throat, tasting the thunder of her pulse beneath her skin. My hands tighten on her waist, probably leaving a mark, but I can't seem to let go. Won't let go. Not ever again.

The rain beats against stone outside, but all I hear is her rapid breathing. All I feel is the way she trembles against me. Not with fear – no, this is something else entirely. Something that makes my chest tighten with an emotion I'm not ready to name.

I capture her mouth again, pouring everything I can't say right now into the kiss. Every protective instinct, every possessive urge, every moment I've wanted to touch her like this. She responds with equal fervor, her fingers sliding into my hair, pulling me closer.

Murok's low chuckle breaks through the haze of my desire. The sound should infuriate me, but there's something in it – understanding, acceptance, even approval – that makes my grip on Eira's waist loosen slightly. The firelight catches the knowing glint in his blue eyes as he watches us, and for once, his calculated gaze doesn't make me want to break things.

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