Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
The sun has set, a platter of the silver moon glowing above as the sound of engines and screams rise from my left.
“The coalition,” Oran says, looking my way then toward the noise. “They’re here.” He growls as the rest of the humans left standing around us bolt toward the dark tree line surrounding the festival grounds.
“What do we do?”
“We came here to kill them. Not protect tiny females from harmless human beta males.” Tigor grunts.
I focus on the rising chaos. There are ten coalition vehicles at least. More on motorcycles.
“We will get our revenge. But not tonight. We must go. Let them have the festival.” I turn in the direction of our camp.
“No.” Oran pulls his spear from the sheath on his back. “We will defend what is ours.”
“Yes. We will, but I will not risk her. She is mine. I must take her back.”
“Take me back?” She quips. “Over my dead body.”
“We will leave. That’s an order, Oran. Tigor, come.”
They look at each other, shake their heads as fires rise in the distance, screams cutting through the night as humans run and engines rev, the noise closing in.
My brothers follow beside me as I break into a run, the dark-haired female bouncing on my shoulder.
“Looks like the breeding program is starting here as well.” Tigor laughs as we hit the edge of the woods, pointing his spear ahead.
“Mother told you about the glow. Look…” Oran says as he points to the ground in front of me.
The green haze of light arches out from under my kilt as my cock rises again, straining against the leather. I bare my teeth at my brothers and snarl.
“Mine.” I say, an unfamiliar possessive rage turning me against my own.
“She’s yours, alright, brother. The female is fertile. That causes the glow. Mother will be so proud. The breeding will commence.”
“Breeding!” I hear her high-pitched squeal from over my shoulder. “Over my dead body twice.”
“There will be dead bodies.” I grumble. “If anyone tries to take what is mine, there will be a thousand dead bodies. But your body, my mate, will be many things, but dead will not be one of them. Not while I’m alive.”
Chapter
Four
Raven
I want to be mad.
I mean, I am mad but…I’m something else too.
Turned the heck on. Which is crazy balls because this orc…well, he’s an orc. I’ve seen plenty of orcs up close, but I don’t remember ever touching one.
Let alone, being touched by one. And this one? Geez, he is touching me, touching me.
His cantaloupe sized hand clenches my ass. The pressure from his sausage fingers borders on painful, but as much as I kick and swear and curse him, the thing that keeps racing through my mind is what he said while I hung over his shoulder.
I’m his mate?
As in, mate?
And, the others said something about a breeding program?
The darkness of the woods has an eerie green glow like I’m wearing my night vision goggles, only I’m not.
The screams and sounds of the coalition assholes back at the festival fade into the dark as my heart rattles in my chest. I think of Chloe and Levi and others I know and hope they are safe. Gangs of the coalition exist in almost every orc settled state. It wouldn’t be the first time they rained down chaos on a festival and ruined the little bit of fun people have tried to crowbar back into their lives.
“I need my bus,” I say as the orcs slow to a walk. “It’s my home. My business. My studio. I have to defend it.”
“Your bus is not a priority.”
“Maybe not to you.” I snap, wiggling and twisting but his hold on my butt is ironclad. “I can walk, you know. Where are we going?”
The only answer is his heaving breath as the orcs on either side of us stare ahead, lumbering forward, cracking branches off as they walk. I settle in for a bit, a strange sense of comfort and safety envelops me and I try to stay in the moment.
They walk in silence for a long time and I notice, the green glow seems to be coming from the one carrying me. I strain my neck, looking around, then raise my hand and bring it down in a hard slap on the back of his leather kilt where it covers what I now know is a concrete-hard ass.
“Buns of steel,” I mutter, sparkles dancing behind my lids from all the blood rushing to my head. I don’t want to admit that hanging here with his fingers nearly splitting my ass crack is making me horny, but the gathering warm tension in my belly is hard to ignore.
“What is your name, human?” he asks, the vibration of his low voice rippling through my body. “I am Mol, my family name is Lakktra. I am leader of clan Vrogkol. Now, tell me your name.”