Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 32156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
As the hatch slams shut above me, my feet and body slick with rain and mud, I fall through the ladder tube to the ground below. It’s a solid concrete floor of what is a bunker of sorts. I look up to see my mate holding a blade, aiming in a slash at my throat.
I block her easily as she curses. It’s cute in a murderous sort of way. There’s no way that letter opener of hers is going to break orc skin, but if she decided to thrust it into my eye…
Well, it would be a weakness to have one eye, so I grab it on her next attempt and throw it across the room.
“Fuck you!” she snarls and my lips curl, a flutter of what I believe is laughter rising inside me at the fury in her eyes. She’s doing something to me, I’m just not sure what.
I’m having feelings. Fear was first. Now, humor. Protectiveness. Worry. Not to mention the hardness of my cock. The thoughts of sinking into her warm, wet female body, pulsing my breeding seed into her until she’s dripping with me.
These feelings are new. Especially the feeling of my mating member swelling and aching like it was hit with a hammer. I know of mating, it’s spoken of in the clan, although few are mated. Mates make you weak. Give you something to lose. It’s never been of interest to me. My purpose is to kill and serve, but not to mate.
Until now.
I step forward. She steps back.
Move, countermove. Another move, another counter move.
“That’s close enough. If you touch me, I swear I’m gonna tear you a new one.”
I narrow my eyes, sucking air through my teeth, licking my tusks as I consider her words. I wait for her to clarify in some way, furrowing my brow, imagining what this new one is she is going to tear…
She seems to note my confusion, softens and rolls her eyes when I stand silent. “A new asshole, asshole.”
Well, that doesn’t make any sense. Why would she want to do that? Is this a human thing? Well, maybe she could tear human flesh like that, it does seem fragile, but not orc flesh.
With a shrug, I reach out, pulling her next to me, gathering her under my arm. I’m going to get her out of here, wherever here is, then I’ll figure out where to put her to keep her safe.
“Hey, I said don’t touch me!”
Her words and the thumping of her fists against my stomach are one thing, but the sudden pain that sears my brain is another.
With a grunt of agony, I release her, clapping my hands to the sides of my head, falling to one knee as I brace myself against the concrete wall, trying to hold on to consciousness. Images flash through my mind, orcs I recognize but don’t know, wars being fought, my name being shouted.
Never have the visions come so close together. They are getting worse and I am desperate to stop them.
Her fingertips connect to my cheek in soft warmth and end the pain as quickly as it came. The vision is gone. Her touch is my salvation.
“Hey, are you okay?” Her voice is soothing, concerned, and I try to nod but one final stab behind my eye makes me wince. “What’s happening?”
I grunt as I suck in a breath, then another, trying to stand.
Weakness is failure and failure is death.
“I have no idea what to do with a sick orc.”
I force myself to my feet, gritting my teeth, my chest aching as my cock hardens, huffing breaths like an oath.
Another muffled roll of thunder shakes the ground from above, making the lights flicker, but they stay on. I grab for her, my need to touch her and make her safe overriding my logic.
She steps back, smacking at my hands, and my unsteadiness from the episode is enough that my reflexes fail me.
“This place is built to withstand a bombing. I’m staying right here—”
Another boom echoes through the small, enclosed space, and a second later there’s a creak, followed by a loud crash, and something heavy lands against the hatch above.
“What was that?” There’s an edge of panic in her voice.
I meet her eyes, puzzling out what this light-haired warrior human is doing to me. Without a word, I turn and squeeze my body back up the ladder, my thoughts a mixture of confusion and lust, but one rises above the rest: I can’t let her go.
And then it occurs to me. If she’s right, then this place is the safest place for her. And we’re here, alone.
There’s no need to take her anywhere.
I push against the hatch in a half-effort for show, feigning frustration when it ‘doesn’t’ open. There is something on top of the hatch, probably a fallen tree. I could open it with my strength and focus, but why would I?