Page 45 of Agor the Merciless
“When it ended, my legs were whole, stronger than before, but I was changed.” He pressed a fist against his chest. “That night rewrote everything I understood about pain and care, about control and surrender. Years later, when I started taking females to my bed, I soon learned that I needed to inflict pain on them if I wanted to feel any pleasure. Everything Urka had done to me, I felt the need to do to someone else, to the females who offered themselves to me. In my world, where I lay with female orcs, it wasn’t too much of a problem. Our kind can withstand pain to high degrees. Though, I must say, not many females were interested in my way of doing things, so I never found a true mate. And then I landed with my horde in your world, pulled through one of those cursed portals your careless scientists created, and it was even more impossible to find someone willing.”
He knelt in front of Zoe, bringing his eyes level with hers.
“Did you really want to hurt them?” she asked in a whisper.
“No. I wanted to connect. I wanted to share the thing that had saved me. I wanted… I wanted them to be strong enough to endure, to show me their spirit wouldn’t break. It’s twisted, I know. And wrong.”
“And the magic salve?” she asked.
“Lyra gave it to me. She said it was Grak’s recipe for healing and pleasure.” Agor shook his head. “I didn’t know it was cursed. After all, what Urka the Bone-Mender had used on me hadn’t created addiction. Had I known, I would’ve never used it on you.”
Agor moved to sit down beside her. Their bodies were pressed together, and he was relieved when she didn’t pull away. He’d thought his confession would scare her. Orc magic and medicine were powerful, but they could be brutal. In some respects,orcs were more evolved than humans, but in others, they were downright barbaric.
“You were different from the others,” he said. “You endured, you didn’t run away and didn’t break. But I nearly killed you.”
The candle closest to them sputtered and went out. The remaining two cast long shadows across Agor’s face, deepening the wrinkles that made him look at least a year older than he was.
“I won’t hurt you again. The rope, the belt… It’s over. I will never use them again. I won’t make you endure my past. You shouldn’t have to carry the weight of what happened to me.”
“What happens now?” Zoe asked.
“I don’t know. I only know that I can’t go back to what was before.”
The remaining candles burned low on the cave floor. A cool draft moved across the ground, bringing the smell of night air and distant smoke from the campfires. The furs they sat on were warm.
She squeezed his hand.
“You didn’t hurt me, Agor. The curse did. The ointment was Grak’s poison, not yours.” She moved forward until their knees touched. “You did what you thought would help us connect, with no intention of hurting me. Humans do this, too, you know. Tie each other up, strike each other with various… things. It’s nothing new. I mean, it was new to me when I came to be your bride, but I’d heard about it even though I hadn’t practiced it before. Maybe that’s why I didn’t run away. I was curious.”
She looked up into his eyes. His skin smelled of smoke and the earth, familiar scents that had become part of her world.
“I still want you,” she said. “All of you. The rope, the belt...” She paused, gathering her thoughts. “Those things are part of you, part of what shaped you. And they’ve become part of me, too. There’s nothing wrong with it. We just have to be careful.”
He blinked several times, utterly confused.
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying we don’t need to throw everything away and start over. But now, it will be our choice. We go gentler. And we talk. Always.”
Their knees pressed together as she leaned closer. The cave was quiet except for the occasional drip of water in the distance, and the soft sputter of candle wax.
“We decide together what happens from now on.” She moved her thumb across his knuckles. “No secrets between us. No assumptions about what the other wants or needs. You tell me what you need, I tell you what I need, and we find the place where those things meet.”
“You would do this?” Agor whispered. “After everything that happened?”
“Yes.”
Agor looked at her face, his breathing slow and deep. His expression changed, the tightness around his eyes going away. He had expected rejection or, at best, pity. Instead, she offered understanding. Not just forgiveness for a mistake, but acceptance of the parts of him he had always hidden. She saw his needs clearly and met them with her own.
No woman had ever understood his need for control and submission without fear or reluctance. No one had ever said these things could exist between them by choice rather than force. She wasn’t offering to endure his past, she was offering to build something new that honored it.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Durnak the Morose waited in the corridor outside the captain’s chamber, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His ribs had healed, only faint bruises remaining, and he walked better than the day before. He saw Zoe exit through the curtain. She did a double-take, and he bowed his head in greeting, then she laughed and bid him good morning, and went about her day. He knew she was headed to the garage.
Once she was gone, the raider cleared his throat at the entrance.
“Enter,” Agor called from inside.
