Page 8 of Resisting the Wicked Orc

I shook my head. All the more reason to get that relic. With it, I could negotiate better terms. Maybe even buy my freedom entirely.

I circled the block, finding a vantage point where I could watch the brewery’s entrance without being obvious. My phone buzzed again. I ignored it.

An hour crawled by. I paced up and down the street, doubling back each time to check if Francis had left. On my third pass, I glanced inside again. Zral still sat at the bar, but the blonde now leaned against a larger orc, her hand on his chest as she laughed up at him. Her partner, clearly.

I refused to acknowledge the flash of satisfaction that warmed my blood. Irrelevant. Completely irrelevant to my mission.

Even if his lips had tasted like blackberries and whiskey.

Even if his touch had stirred the fire in my veins.

I forced my attention back to Francis. He checked his watch again, downed the last of his drink, and stood. Perfect. I slipped back into the flow of pedestrians, keeping him in sight as he exited the brewery.

I followed him back to the Silver River Inn, keeping to the shadows. He entered through the main doors, nodding to the concierge as he passed. I hesitated outside, weighing my options. The lobby was too exposed for a direct confrontation, and I couldn’t exactly knock on his door without raising suspicions.

I slipped around to the side of the building and scanned the windows. Most were dark or covered with heavy curtains, but light spilled from one on the ground floor. I edged closer, peering through a gap in the drapes.

Through the glass, I could make out Francis taking a seat at the hotel bar. Even from here, I could feel the relic pulsing at my center, calling to the fire in my blood.

My fingers tingled with heat. One quick teleport inside, grab the relic, and disappear before they could react. Risky, but possible. I’d need a distraction first, something to draw attention away from?—

A large hand clamped over my mouth as an arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me back against a solid chest. I reacted instantly, fire flaring in my palms as I prepared to burn whoever dared?—

“We have to stop meeting like this,” a deep voice purred in my ear.

Blackberries and woodsmoke filled my senses. My fire sputtered out as recognition washed through me.

Zral.

The heat of him pressed against my back sent a shock wave through my system. The mate bond surged between us, demanding acknowledgment. My body responded like a fucking traitor, melting against him even as my mind screamed in protest.

I bit his palm.

He hissed but didn’t let go. His breath tickled my ear as he whispered, “If you wanted to taste me again, Red, you just had to ask.”

ZRAL

Her teeth broke contact with my palm, but the sting lingered. Not unpleasant—more like the first bite of strong whiskey. I kept my hand over her mouth, feeling her rapid breath against my skin.

“We also need to have a conversation about your disappearing act,” I murmured against her ear. “Leaving me holding the bag alone wasn’t exactly sporting.”

I eased my hand from her mouth, ready to clamp it back if she screamed. Instead, she spun to face me, those amber eyes blazing like hellfire when they met mine. Up close, I could see flecks of gold in them, floating like embers. Her scent hit me again, cinnamon and woodsmoke and so addictive I could lose myself in it.

Mate.

“What are you doing here?” she snapped, keeping her voice low as she backed against the wall.

“I could ask you the same question.” I shrugged, tracking the way her chest rose and fell with each rapid breath. “Though I’m beginning to think stalking is your hobby.”

Truthfully, I’d been watching Francis all night. After that scene at the market, how could I not? I’d noticed him at the bar—thin, rigid posture, constantly checking his watch like he had somewhere better to be. He’d nursed the same drink for an hour, while his eyes cataloged every entrance and exit.

Not exactly tourist behavior.

I’d followed him when he left, telling myself I was just being cautious. Looking out for the community. But the truth was simpler—I hoped he’d lead me to her.

And he had.

“You weren’t supposed to be there in the first place.” Her tail lashed against my calf. “I had everything under control.”

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