Page 3 of Her Rugged Orcs

"Save it," Murok hisses beside me. "Not yet."

The champion circles closer to her, his shadow engulfing her small frame. "Such a pretty little thing." His voice grates like stones. "I'll enjoy breaking you in."

Red edges my vision. The chains bite deeper as my fists clench tighter.

"Patience, brother," Murok whispers. "Wait for the bell."

The rage burns in my gut, but I force myself still. The champion doesn't deserve a quick death. When the match begins, I'll take my time. Show him what happens to those who think they can touch her.

The bell's harsh clang splits the air. Before the sound fades, the dark elf guards shove her forward. Her small frame stumbles toward the champion, her silk dress rippling like water. The way she stiffens with her chin high, but her eyes wide with terror - something completely snaps inside of me.

The chains that bind me mean nothing as pure rage courses through my veins. Metal screams, the links exploding apart as I surge forward. My fist connects with the champion's jaw before his filthy hands can touch her. The crack of bone echoes through the arena. His head snaps back, blood and fragments of teeth spraying across the sand.

"Mine." The word tears from my throat, deeper than any battle cry. I plant myself between her and the fallen champion, my shadow eclipsing her completely.

The crowd's roar crashes over us like a wave. They pound their feet against the stone seats, crying for blood. Dex's laughter rings hollow beneath the spectators' frenzy.

"Let them fight for her!" Someone shouts from above.

"Yes, yes! Let the savage prove his claim!"

The champion stirs in the dirt, clutching his shattered jaw. Pathetic. The sight of him feeds the rage burning in my veins. Her quiet breathing behind me steadies my hand - I won't kill him. Not yet.

"Back." I growl at him. "She's not yours to touch."

Dex waves his hand, gesturing for the guards to pull her to my side of the arena. His amusement grates against my nerves, but I'll use it. Let him think this is part of their game. Let him believe they still control this fight.

Her steps are light as she moves behind me, but I feel her presence like fire against my skin. The silk of her dress brushes my arm as she passes. That single touch sends electricity through my muscles, makes me want to tear apart anyone who dares look at her wrong.

The champion struggles to his feet, hatred blazing in his eyes. Blood drips from his ruined mouth onto his chest. Good. Let him taste defeat. Let him know what happens when he threatens what's mine.

The other fighters press against their cage bars on the sides of the arena. Their eyes reflect the torchlight as they watch the scene unfold. My claim echoes through the pits - not just words, but a declaration of war.

"You're an idiot." Murok's voice cuts through the crowd's roar.

My eyes never leave the champion as he circles us, nursing his broken jaw. "Then I'm an idiot with something worth fighting for now."

Behind me, her breath catches as she takes a step closer to my shadow. She thinks she hides her trembling well, but I feel every quiver in the air between us.

The guards cluster together, their whispers sharp with spite. Coins change hands - they're betting on how long I'll last against their precious champion. Their sneers fuel the fury burning deep within me.

The champion's death-glare promises pain, but his eyes keep straying to her. Each glance makes my muscles coil even tighter. The fool hasn't learned his lesson yet.

"No one touches what's mine," I growl.

Dex's laughter carries from the sidelines. "Such spirit! Such possession! But can you keep her, beast?"

He's right. Now that I've marked her as mine, every creature here will test my claim.

Let them come. Let them try to take her from me.

My blood sings with ancient instincts - protect, possess, destroy any threat. The champion thinks he knows brutality? I'll show him what real savagery looks like.

She might not understand yet why I've claimed her, but something in her seems to respond to my protection. Her trembling eases the longer she’s near me. That's enough for now.

The guards can sneer. The champion can plot. Dex can laugh. None of it matters.

No one will touch her while I draw breath.

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