Page 127 of Valpar

Creed huffs. “That little human is resilient, strong even. When she visits during the change of seasons she watches my parents’ hatchings. No easy feat for a female of her size.”

I groaned.

Creed snorted. “When the Goddess is involved, she will bring the right souls together at the correct time and place. You being paired together is no accident, do not question if you are not good for her. It will only make you truly unworthy.”

I turned my neck to see the underside of his jaw. “Since when did you paint pretty pictures with words?” The last time I saw him, he was a male of few words and thought the world might end at any moment.

His scarred, scaled lips curved into a smile. “Having hatchlings of my own gives me a new perspective.”

The male differed from when I first met him years ago, before the war. It was good that he had calmed himself. I would smile more once my female was found.

He took us higher into the air. With two sets of eyes searching, I knew we would find her soon. The further south-east we traveled, the more worried I became. We were closer to the Vermillion Kingdom’s territory and though not all vampires were evil, the ones I dealt with in the war were not pleasant.

“I smell her, she’s in the thicket,” Creed snarled, and puffs of smoke left his nostrils. “She isn’t alone, the smell of a witch is near.”

I took a firm grip on the hilt of my sword and my jaw jutted out. I had no problems facing a witch, her power would have no effect on me.

Creed took us down, bolting through the wind at top speed. I felt the wind beating at my face. As we got closer, I saw my miresa tied up with vines, a witch with white flowing hair and her arms reaching out. Fire burned in my belly, rage consumed me, and Creed and I let out deafening roars as he dropped me in front of the witch, where I landed with a ground-shattering thud.

The witch was taken aback, although her vines did not loosen around my female. I stomped forward, waving my sword and cutting the vines that connected to my female. My miresa shook them off and I felt Creed landing behind me, breaking the trees to make room for his massive body.

“Prepare to die, witch.”

Chapter Forty-One

Valpar

I gripped my swordtightly, feeling the cool metal against my palm. With a swift motion, I brought it down, slicing through the tangled vines. The sound of metal meeting vegetation echoed through the air, accompanied by the faint rustling of the retreating vines. The scent of damp earth and decaying leaves filled my nostrils as I continued my relentless assault. The witch’s hiss pierced the noise of breaking of vines, branches and rustling of leaves, as she gestured to command the lifeless roots of the forest to encircle her.

I was immune to magic. She wouldn’t dare throw a bolt of lightning, fire or whatever this nature witch could conjure. She could use items around her, and she was using sticks.

She obviously wasn’t aware of my strength.

I kept my back turned to my female, feeling the weight of her presence around me. I could almost hear the soft sound of her breath reaching my ears. It caused a mix of emotions to stir within me. Her calming scent was tainted, soured from rotting vines and magic.

If I were to look at her, I know I would crumble. The burning rage inside me would consume every fiber of my being, clouding my judgment. I was a warrior, her protector and her male. Seeing her sadness, any cuts or bruises on her body would fuel my desire for more vengeance and wrath. I could not think with anger, I must strategically win this battle quickly so I may have my female in my arms once again.

“Valpar!” My miresa cried, and I balled my free hand into a fist

Creed’s smoke had surrounded us, giving me the upper hand. We’d fought in the war—he knew how we orcs liked to fight.

Witches may have magic, but their eyesight is worthless unless they conjure something to deflect their enemies. Not that it would work on an orc.

“Stay female, you already have a hot ass coming to you later.”

She gasped, and I heard her tiny little foot stomp. “I had to save Simon. He needed me!”

Didn’t she know I needed her?

A root came behind me. I felt it before it struck and heard my female scream in panic. I smirked and dropped my sword, pulling on the root that tried to grip me by my waist. I ripped it from the soil, the tree pulling under the dirt. The witch was using all her strength to bend the tree, but her face contorting into anger and frustration made me huff out a laugh.

“No one touches what is mine,” I snarled at the witch and took a step forward, pulling the tree with me. The dirt crumbled and the roots left trenches behind me. More and more limbs from above tried to pull me back.

I glanced over at my miresa. “And I don’t care, Calliope, you are mine to protect. I would have saved him myself!”

Summoning every ounce of strength within me, I exerted an immense force, feeling the sinewy muscles in my arms and back strain. With a resounding crack, the tree wrenched from the earth as its roots violently tore apart. The sound of splintering wood echoed through the air, mingling with the gasp that escaped the witch’s lips. In that moment, her widened eyes to reveal the realization that her control was slipping away, like sand through her fingertips.

“Orcs own the trees. You really thought that these twigs could hold me?”

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