Page 27 of Resisting the Wicked Orc

Despite his injury, he moved with surprising speed, snatching a blade from a fallen guard. Crimson smoke swirled around him as he teleported, reappearing directly behind Zral with his dagger raised.

“Zral, behind you!” I screamed, my heart lurching into my throat.

Zral turned, but too slowly. Javed’s arm descended in a vicious arc, the blade aimed at Zral’s heart.

“No!” I clutched the pendant, focusing all my will through it. “Stop!”

To my shock, Javed froze mid-strike, his body rigid. The pendant burned in my palm, channeling my command.

“Take off the ring,” I ordered, my voice steady despite the nausea rising in my throat. “Throw it on the ground.”

Javed’s hand moved jerkily, as if fighting my control every inch of the way. But he obeyed, removing the ring and tossing it to the floor with a metallic clink.

Disgust rolled through me at the sensation of controlling another being. It felt vile, dirty, like oil coating my skin. This was what Javed had done to my brothers, what he’d tried to do to me. The thought made me want to scrub myself raw.

But I didn’t release him.

“Kneel,” I commanded.

Javed’s knees hit the floor, his face contorted with rage and fear.

“You will confess your crimes,” I said, each word tasting like ash in my mouth. “You will submit to judgment for what you’ve done to everyone you hurt.”

Javed howled, fighting against my control. The pendant grew hot in my hand as he strained against its power.

“Nowhere… will be safe,” he spat. The pendant flickered in my palm. “I’ll find you. Make you… pay.”

I pushed back on him through the pendant. The slick, oily feeling filled my veins, made it hard to think.

Red smoke began to swirl around him as my control slipped and he prepared to teleport.

Malak reacted instantly, ripping an ax from the nearest rack and throwing it. In one smooth motion, Kaz snatched it from theair and swung the blade into the center of Javed’s teleportation cloud.

Javed stumbled back, materializing partially merged with the large chair he’d used as a throne. Wood and flesh fused in a grotesque parody of royalty. His scream cut off as Kaz swung again, the ax cleaving through chair and prince alike.

Silence fell, broken only by our ragged breathing.

I dropped the pendant as if it burned, letting it fall beside the ring on the floor. The feeling of control lingered, making my skin crawl. I never wanted to touch either relic again.

A noise behind me made me turn. Zral stood swaying on his feet, one arm wrapped around his ribs, his face a map of cuts and bruises. But his eyes were clear, fixed on me with an intensity that made my heart stutter.

“You came back,” he said, voice rough with pain and something that might have been wonder.

“Someone had to save you,” I teased, though my voice cracked. I moved to his side, slipping my arm around his waist to support him. “Again.”

His laugh turned into a groan as he bent to press his forehead against mine. “My hero.”

I rose on my toes to meet his lips, tasting blood and sweat and relief. The mate bond hummed between us, warm and right. For the first time since I’d felt it spark, I didn’t fight against it. I leaned into it, into him.

A throat cleared behind us. I eased away, turning to face Kaz. His expression was unreadable, but his tail twitched with the familiar irritation I’d grown up with.

I lifted my chin, daring him to argue. “Kaz, this is Zral Shieldthorn. My mate.”

Kaz studied Zral for a long moment, taking in the bruises, the way he stood tall despite his injuries. Then, to my surprise, he stepped forward and clasped Zral’s hand in a firm shake.

“Welcome to the family,” he said, then suddenly yanked Zral closer. “And good luck. This is just a taste of the hell she puts us through.”

CHAPTER NINE

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