Page 41 of Orange Tundra
Then I was lifted. Carried like meat. My muscles screamed silently.
Kilo had me.
And if I didn’t find a way to break this curse—Brynn, Roqs, Coone—my family—would be next.
The Silver Beast retreated deep within our shared mind, wounded but unbroken.
But I swore this with my last lucid thought:
I would make them pay.
I will find all of my mates. And when I do, nothing in this world will tear us apart again.
19
TRILL
The corridor reekedof fear and piss, a stench that clung to the stone walls like a living thing. The pit walls sweated blood and history.
I felt it the moment I stepped into the holding corridors—the same rust-and-copper stench that clung to my childhood, layered under bile, oil, and the sound of chain links being dragged. Zirc's weight made those chains scream louder than any other prisoner, his monstrous frame barely contained even half-petrified. Guards jeered, some too afraid to get close, others puffed with bravado.
"You see that cock still swinging? Shura barely touched it," one joked.
Another barked laughter. "Crystals made him shine like a High Council toy. Should cut that thing off, keep it as a trophy."
Zirc's remaining eye—the one not clouded with crystal—flashed with feral rage. A low growl rumbled from his chest, but the sound died as pain visibly shot through him. The Shura's effect wasn't just physical. It seemed to trap his beast form partially beneath the surface, leaving him caught between transformations.
I didn’t speak. Couldn’t. My throat felt flayed raw from holding back.
We reached the iron-barred cell at the end of the corridor. It had been prepared specially—reinforced walls, crystal-infused restraints bolted to the floor. They'd been planning this capture for months.
"Throw him in," I ordered, my voice cold and detached. The guards complied, shoving Zirc forward. He stumbled, barely catching himself before crashing into the back wall.
The cell door clanged shut with finality. I turned the key in the lock myself, feeling each tumbler like a knife in my gut.
Zirc’s flesh shimmered with violet sheen, twisted where the Shura had kissed him. One eye glazed with crystal. One arm barely flexing. But his aura? Pure fucking rage. I could taste it.
And outside his cell—Kilo and Nialla will perform their latest play.
Footsteps approached from behind—the distinctive click of Nialla's boots accompanied by Kilo's heavier tread. I stepped back, keeping my eyes lowered as they approached.
"Beautiful," Kilo murmured, gazing at Zirc through the bars. "The Silver Beast, caged at last."
Nialla pressed against the bars, her arousal evident in her scent. "I've waited years for this moment."
What happened next made bile rise in my throat. Kilo pressed Nialla against the bars, yanking down her leather pants. She laughed, a high, cruel sound as Kilo thrust into her from behind. The guards hooted and cheered, forming a semicircle around them.
"Look at him," Nialla panted, staring at Zirc as Kilo fucked her. "The mighty warrior, watching like a helpless cub."
Nialla bent over, Kilo pounding into her ass, rutting with brutal, hungry thrusts that made the iron grates rattle. Cum streaked her fur, her cock hanging thick and dripping.
At her feet, the "toy" they’d brought in—some poor bastard with a half-healed back and bite marks—licked her shaft like his life depended on it. She yanked his head up by his hair, stuffed her length down his throat, choking him until tears and spit rolled down his cheeks. Kilo groaned as he slammed home, clutching her hips, growling, “Watch him choke while I fill your ass.”
The guards howled. One jacked off openly, splattering the stone wall.
Zirc didn’t flinch. He stood at the bars, silent, seething. His eye fixed on Nialla. She winked.
I swallowed the bile.
