Page 54 of Orc's Pretend Mate

“Stop!” His command cuts through the mayhem. “Or we kill her.”

Vapas freezes mid-motion, his fist inches from another attacker's face. His eyes lock onto mine, and I see the moment his resolve crumbles. He could probably fight his way free, even now. But he wouldn’t be able to save me.

“Submit,” the voice behind me demands. The blade pressing harder.

Vapas' shoulders slump and he slowly lowers his hands.

They swarm him immediately. Six of them grabbing his limbs, his head and forcing him to his knees, and still he struggles. One of them strikes him across the back of the head with something heavy. His eyes roll back and he slumps forward, barely conscious.

“Vapas!” I try to move but the knife at my throat is a sharp, cold reminder that I can’t.

“The Shaman will be pleased,” someone says.

They bind Vapas' hands with heavy chains. There is enough metal to hold something three times his size. They're taking no chances with him. My own bonds are mere rope, almost an afterthought.

As they drag us away, I catch Vapas' eye. Despite the blow to his head, his gaze is clear and focused on me. There's a promise in that look, one that needs no words. This isn't over. Whatever happens next, we'll face it together.

Then I see two hooded figures looking down on us from a nearby roof and something about them strikes me odd. One of them disappears from sight, then it hits me.

We were bait.

33

PHOEBE

They lead us deeper into the city, toward whatever the Shaman has planned for us.

The Maulavi drag us through winding streets, leading us back to the heart of the city and further from any possibility of escape. Our shadows are huge against the cavern walls, making us look like monsters.

My skin burns from trying to loosen the bindings on my aching arms. Two Maulavi grip my upper arms and are half-dragging me. Behind us, the chains binding Vapas clank with each step. It takes four of them to keep him moving, even in his dazed state. Every time I try to look back, they jerk me forward, but I can't stop trying. I need to see him, to know he's okay.

Suspicious eyes glare from doorways, stalls, and the streets around us. None of the Urr’ki I see offer any sign of hope. They note our passing and most don’t show any signs of judgment or caring.

The center of the city is dominated by a massive black structure that towers over the other buildings. That seems to be theirintended goal. My stomach flips at seeing it. At the base of that tower is the stage where the Shaman makes his speeches before the sacrifices. I’ve been drug along to witness them, which is an experience I never want to have again.

Debris blocks the street. It looks like two buildings collapsed. The Maulavi growl at one another, barking commands but it seems like they’re arguing about which way to go. Two of them yell at the Urr’ki who are slowly moving debris. They look at the Maulavi and shrug.

Angrily I’m jerked into motion as they change direction. The sound of Vapas’ chains clanking is almost reassuring. It would be more so if they didn’t reinforce that we’ve been captured and are most likely about to be tortured and killed, but at least we’re together.

Two city blocks or so further on and once more the path forward is blocked with debris. Four Urr’ki sullenly move around the pile but it’s clear they’re not doing anything effective to clear the path.

The Maulavi are getting growing angrier with each passing moment. A handful of them huddle together and are clearly arguing. One of them is gesturing away from the tower though I have no idea what they are saying. As the disagreement continues something brushes my tightly bound, mostly numb hands and I gasp, jerking my head around to look.

Vapas has managed to move close enough that his fingers brush against mine. My smile is so wide it hurts my jaw, but when one of the Maulavi in the arguing huddle glares in my direction I bury it fast.

The Maulavi seem to come to some decision. They resume their places around us and push us back into motion. They drag us along until we come to a dull gray stone building that, while intimidating, doesn’t hold a candle to the central one that I am sure was their intended goal.

Two of the Maulavi produce and light torches and then we descend a steep set of worn stone steps. The air grows colder and damper. Beyond the torchlight there is the sound of water dripping somewhere in the darkness. The hallway opens into a wide room with metal bars set into the stone walls.

Cells. It’s a room full of cells. None of them seem to be occupied. Bioluminescent mold grows on some of the walls intertwining with lichens. The bars are rusting and it all smells of decay.

They throw me into the first one. I stumble and fall hard onto the cold stone floor. Vapas they handle with more care, four of them keeping hold while two others unlock the heavy cell door. They force him inside and quickly slam it shut. The lock clicks with grim finality.

Two guards take up positions on either side of the cells. The rest file out, their torches taking most of the light with them. Only a single torch remains in a bracket on the wall, casting everything in deep shadows.

I crawl as close to the bars dividing our cells as I can. Vapas sits slumped against the back wall. His eyes are clearer now, but even in the dim light I see a large bump forming where they struck him. My chest aches seeing that they hurt him. Vapas, who's always been so strong, so unstoppable. My fingers twitch with the need to touch him, to comfort him, but the ropes bite into my wrists.

“Are you okay?” I whisper.

---