Page 82 of Wrangling the Orc Cowboy

“No—”

The back door swung open with a practiced flick of Mom’s wrist.

A bolt of fear raced through me.

They’d planned this. Their patience had run out.

I kicked Dad’s shin, gritting my teeth as his grip bit into my arm, his strength unbeatable against my own. My pulse thundered, and my breath went ragged.

I wasn’t going back. I couldn’t.

A pair of rough hands shoved at my back, and before I could twist away, they forced me inside the car. Leather seats pressed against my chest as the door slammed shut.

“No!” I screamed, flipping around and clawing at the handle.

They got inside and the locks clicked. Cold spread through my veins.

Dad started the car. The vehicle lurched forward.

My stomach flamed as the car sped down the road, dust kicking up behind it. I slammed my palms against the window, my heart hammering.

The saloon doors swung open, and Tark stepped out, a basket in his hands, a smile tugging at his lips.

His gaze snapped to me.

The smile vanished, and his whole body went rigid. Sharga flapped his wings and took flight, soaring in a jagged, sad way toward the car that was quickly gaining speed.

I might be trapped behind glass, speeding away from the male I loved, but I could feel the fury radiating off him.

His lips pulled back over his tusks.

And he roared.

Chapter 29

Tark

The basket of food I'd collected from the fridge hit the ground. I didn’t even register it slipping from my fingers.

Gracie.

Someone had stolen Gracie. Her parents? Over the last few days, she'd confessed that they were trying to make her go back to the reality show and how sad this made her feel. I'd wanted to storm to wherever they were and make them leave her alone, but she'd told me she worried they'd hurt me. I'd reluctantly agreed to let this go. She said she’d handle it.

But now they were taking my mate from me.

My world burned white-hot with fury. Another bellow tore from my chest, shaking the air, sending birds from every rooftop away in a flurry of flapping wings. I lunged forward, my boots pounding against dirt, every step fueled by a need so primal it swallowed all my thoughts. I sprinted, my heart a fist punching against my ribs, catching up with Sharga, who landed on my shoulder and clung.

The vehicle kicked up dust, its tires screeching as it sped toward the open road. Too fast. I wouldn't catch it on foot.

I bellowed for Castree.

The sorhox’s head snapped up from across the pasture, her body tensing, her nostrils flaring. Her gaze met mine, and she tore forward, her hooves kicking up ground, her powerful legs propelling her toward me with incredible speed.

The moment she drew close, I sprang, grabbing her horn on this side and using her speed and leverage to swing myself onto her back.

“Go!” I snarled, pointing toward the vehicle.

Castree surged under me, thundering forward, the force of her gallop rattling my tusks. Sharga clung to my shoulder, crying, “Get ‘em!”

---