Page 25 of Resisting the Wicked Orc

But he’d offered both, casually and unconditionally. Without hesitation. He’d trusted me enough to sleep beside me. To offer his clan’s help.

To invite me into his world.

My fate, with my mate, cut short before it could truly begin.

I’d abandoned him when things got hard. Just like I’d run from the arranged marriage instead of facing my brothers or Javed directly. But running hadn’t solved anything. Javed controlled my brothers, and now he had Zral too.

“Fuck!” I slammed my fist into the stone, welcoming the sharp pain that shot up my arm. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

My fire magic sputtered and died as tears threatened. I’d failed. Failed at everything. Failed to claim my freedom, failed tosave my brothers, and now I was hiding behind a waterfall like a fucking coward while Javed took everything I cared about.

I couldn’t—wouldn’t—roll over so easily.

I sat back on my heels, forcing myself to breathe. To think. If I wanted any chance of saving them, I needed weapons. Anything that might give me an edge against Javed.

The compound was my only option. I could gather supplies and maybe contact some of the other clan members. With Javed likely returning to his palace with his prizes, I should have time to prepare.

I pictured my bedroom, the one place in the compound I knew better than any other, and let crimson smoke swirl around me.

The familiar scent of home filled my lungs as I materialized beside my bed. The room was exactly as I’d left it before leaving for my final taste of freedom. Bed unmade, clothes scattered across the floor, a pile of books on the nightstand. A moment stuck in time, waiting for me to return.

A noise outside my door froze me mid-step. Voices.Unfamiliarvoices.

I crept to the door and pressed my ear against the wood. Heavy footsteps passed by, followed by a man’s voice—not Kaz, not Malak, not Zane. A stranger, speaking in clipped tones.

“Prince Javed wants the place cleaned out. They won’t need their shit once they’re dead.”

My blood ran cold. Javed hadn’t retreated to his palace. He’d claimed our home.

I eased the door open a crack and peered into the hallway. Two guards stood at attention, their uniforms bearing the Fitsum crest. My fingers curled into fists, nails biting into my palms. This was an extra layer of violation. This was where I’d grown up, where I’d trained with my brothers, where I’d felt safe. And now it was occupied territory.

Without the pendant as a weapon and my brothers under Javed’s control, I was at a severe disadvantage. But I couldn’t leave, not again. Not with Zral and my brothers trapped here.

I eased the door shut and considered my options. The armory would be heavily guarded, but there were other weapons scattered throughout the compound. Personal caches my brothers kept in their rooms.

Crimson smoke swirled, and I found myself crouched beside Malak’s perfectly made bed. Unlike my chaos, his room was military-precise with everything in its place. I yanked open the nightstand drawer and found the knife exactly where I expected.

I slipped it into my boot just as the door burst open. Two guards stood in the doorway, weapons raised.

“Shit,” I muttered, preparing to teleport again.

But before I could gather my magic, something slammed into me from behind. Pain exploded in my skull as darkness crowded my vision. I twisted, trying to escape, but more hands seized my wrists, pinning me to the floor.

“Look what we found,” one guard sneered, wrenching me upright. “The prince will be pleased.”

Pain shot through my shoulder as they twisted my arms behind my back and marched me from the room. My tail lashed furiously, dread filling me more and more with each step. They dragged me into what had been the Kadhan main hall.

Now it was Javed’s throne room.

He lounged on a makeshift throne, one leg thrown over the side and watching the scene play out before him. The pendant hung around his neck, the hellfire opal pulsing with malevolent light.

But what froze the breath in my lungs took place in the center of the room.

Zral knelt, blood streaming from a cut above his eye. My brothers surrounded him, their faces blank masks as theymethodically beat him. Zane’s fist connected with Zral’s jaw. Malak shoved him down. When Kaz’s boot slammed into Zral’s ribs, my cry caught in my throat.

“Ah, darling, just in time.” He gestured to the guards, who dragged me forward. “Your family has been most helpful. I do prefer the stench of blood to the smell of your cunt on this creature.” He sniffed in my direction, wrinkling his nose. “Though we’ll need a remedy for you soon, won’t we?”

Zral spat blood onto the floor, his dark eyes meeting mine. Despite the bruises blooming across his face, his gaze burned with defiance.

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