Orc’s Prize by Mina Carter
ChapterSix
Adharian bit her lower lip as the massive orc stared her down. Her dress was damp and sticking to her trembling figure, but she hesitated to take it off in front of him. She knew he’d be watching her as she took off the damp garment, his eyes dark and unreadable.
The longer she wore it, the more powerful her shivers got. Already, she couldn’t feel her toes. She had to act quickly or she knew she’d become sick.
Slowly, hesitantly, she reached for the hem of her dress. Her hands were shaking so much that it was difficult for her to grasp the fabric. She reached for the hem of her dress, carefully raising it up her legs.
A hot flush washed over her cheeks. She didn’t want to think about what he thought of her. Orcs despised weakness, and she had little doubt that he would regard her as weak if she showed any fragility.
Gritting her teeth, she raised the dress until it bunched around her waist. Inhaling deeply, she pulled it over her head and threw it aside. Then she tried not to shudder as she stood naked in front of him.
Her nipples were hard, pebbled with cold, and she could feel the goosebumps on her skin. But she refused to give him the pleasure of seeing her weakness, putting steel into her spine as she raised her chin to meet his stare. Her knees shook so badly, she was astonished he couldn’t hear it.
He stared at her, the seconds stretching out. Then he turned away, giving her some privacy. She let out a sigh of relief and quickly rubbed her arms, trying to generate some warmth. Her shivers had all but stopped, and she knew that was dangerous.
She needed to get warm and fast.
Gudvar flexed his massive shoulders. Her heart pounding, she almost scurried to the back of the cave. But she had to accept reality. If he wanted to do anything to her, she couldn’t stop him. But to her surprise, he stripped out of his sleeveless shirt.
“Come here,” he ordered gruffly, turning again.
Adharian paused for a moment before moving to stand in front of him. She resisted the urge to reach out and touch his heavily muscled chest. His skin was warm from the fire, and she could feel heat waves emanating from him.
He pulled her into his arms. A gasp escaped her as the warmth of his body enveloped her. As she melted into him, she felt her body relax; the tension seeping out of her muscles. He was so powerful, she couldn’t help but feel safe in his embrace, which was crazy. He was her enemy, and he’d kidnapped her from the court using magic. She shouldn’t feel safe with him. Not at all.
“This will help to keep you warm,” he rumbled, wrapping his shirt around her. It was huge, coming down to mid-thigh. She bit back a moan as his scent wrapped around her, making her light-headed.
“Thank you,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
He nodded once and retreated to his seat by the fire. Cuddling in his shirt, she felt warmth return to her body and watched as Gudvar tended to the fire. He added more logs to work it up to a blaze. He moved with effortless grace, the big muscles of his thighs rippling under his green-gray skin.
She averted her gaze, not wanting him to see her staring at him. She didn’t know what was happening between them, but she knew it was dangerous. Despite everything she knew about Gudvar, something about him lured her in.
She was in trouble. Deep trouble.
Taking a step back, she sank down to sit on the dusty furs next to the fire pit. She was tired, her eyelids drooping. It had been a long day, even before he’d kidnapped her. She was exhausted, unused to so much physical activity. Her days at court were spent sitting, talking, and eating. She had servants to see to her needs, so she didn’t have to raise a finger if she didn’t want to. But now, she was dirty, sweaty, and exhausted. Her muscles ached so badly she didn’t want to move, and she was covered in grime.
Fantasies of a hot bath and a soft bed filled her mind. She pushed them aside as her gaze latched on to the big orc. She needed answers more than she needed all those things.
“That orc, at the tournament,” she started.
Gudvar settled down on the other side of the fire, his long legs stretched out in front of him as he watched her with those intense silver eyes. She met his gaze levelly.
“Yeah, what about him?” he rumbled.
“He’s my son, but I don’t know his name. His real name… is it Graal?” she asked, feeling stupid that she had to ask these things about her son but desperate to know more about him.
“Yeah,” Gudvar grunted, tending to the fire. “I didn’t pick it. The wet nurse did. His dad was already dead, so wasn’t no one else to name him.”
“Oh!” Her hands went to her mouth as tears flooded her eyes. “He was alone?”
The big orc shrugged. “No more than the rest of us. Most orcs are foundlings.”
He looked up to spear her with a serious look. “Unlike other races, orckin know how to look after our own.”
She bit her lip, chastised. She’d given up her son to save his life. No way could she have kept him, and even if she’d gone on the run, she wasn’t like Lady Shaneah, with a knight’s training. She’d have been caught anyway, and Graal killed simply for being born half-orc.
But her heart had ached for years over the fact she’d had to give up her son. Even logic hadn’t eased the need in her soul to find him. She’d hoped and prayed that he’d survived. And he had.
She smiled through her tears. “Did he… did he have a good childhood?” she whispered.
Gudvar grunted a harsh note of amusement.
“He grew up in the army, saw his first battle at six years old.”
Her eyes flew open. “What? That’s barbaric.”
“He wasn’t fighting; we aren’t barbarians.” The orc’s voice was harsh. “He squired to a warrior and tailed him, collecting arrows and trophies as needed, ran messages when asked. He was a bit of a liability, though, with that bloody silver hair.”
Her hand crept up to her hair. Her silver hair.
“It was like a fucking banner. He wore a hat when he was a kid,” Gudvar revealed. “Only when he was older, he took it off. Made sure your lot saw him. He grew into an excellent warrior,” he said, the words almost begrudging.
She frowned. There was history there. She was sure of it.
“Are you two… friends?”
“What! No!” Gudvar snapped and then reached for a pouch at his waist, one Naebalar hadn’t taken from him, and threw it at her.
“Dried meat. Eat,” he ordered. “Can’t hunt for fresh stuff until tomorrow.”
She caught the pouch against her chest, prying the leather ties open to find strips of good dried beef. Her stomach rumbled as she chewed on a strip. When she looked up, he was watching her. She looked away quickly, her heart fluttering in her chest.
She’d been desperate to escape Naebalar for years. Her marriage was a prison she hadn’t entered willingly but a deal cooked up between her father and Naebalar. They viewed it as a way to solidify their two links and create a powerful alliance. Grieving at the loss of her lover and the baby she’d been forced to give up, she’d agreed—used belladonna wine to dull the pain and lived as a barely there wraith for years.
But she’d always been determined to escape. She’d never dreamed her escape would come as a giant, muscle-bound orc. Now that she was here, though, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to return to her gilded cage and her loveless marriage.
Maybe she could find something more out there in the world? Something more than the empty life she’d been leading. Like finding out more about the son, now an adult, who had appeared at court and won the tournament. A son she’d been forced to give up so many years ago.
A son who was in the same army as Gudvar…
A wave of tiredness washed over her. With a stifled yawn, she pulled the furs closer around her, letting her eyes drift closed.
She was asleep before she knew it.
When she woke, Gudvar was gone, and the fire had burned low to hot coals. Sitting up on the furs, she pushed her hair back out of her face. It was a tangled, dusty mess. She longed for a brush and some soap. Maybe even a basin of hot water to wash in.
She looked around the cave, half expecting Gudvar to jump out and surprise her. But she saw no sign of him. He must have left while she was sleeping. Which meant she was on her own. Her heart leaped, and she was on her feet in an instant. He must have gone out hunting or something.
Her gaze cut to the “door” of the cave to find the boulder he’d used to block it last night not quite in the same place. She found the thinnest gap between it and the rock wall. Inconsequential for a being the size of an orc, but maybe enough for a person to squeeze through if they were slim.
Without thinking, she ran across the cave to the gap. Wrapping the huge shirt around her, she squeezed into the opening. It was a tight fit, and she had to suck in hard to make her body small enough to fit. She wiggled and squirmed, feeling the fabric of the shirt tear as she forced her way through.
Finally, she fell out the other side onto the hard ground.
She’d done it! She was free! A hesitant smile spread across her lips as she looked around. Last night’s blizzard was over, leaving the ground covered with sparkling snow that was already melting.
It took her a moment to orient herself. When she did, her relief disappeared faster than the melting snow. She took a few steps forward, looking around and realizing she had no idea which way to go.
Down, she decided with a quick look up at the snowy peaks above her. No way would she survive up there; besides, she had no reason to go that way. The realms stretched below her, everything from the Enchanted Wood to the Black Plains. She nibbled her lip as her gaze fell on the foothills below her, the wastelands that marked the northern road, and the front line between the elven and the orc army. She’d have to cross that to get home.
“Cross that bridge when you get to it,” she muttered and set off.
Carefully, she picked her way down the rocky slope, her hands outstretched to catch her balance, heading for the nearest tree line. The mountains were filled with dense forest, interspersed with rocky inclines, but she could use the trees to conceal herself if Gudvar came after her.
She was so intent on her goal that she wasn’t paying proper attention to where she was walking. Her feet slipped on the loose gravel beneath her, and she yelped as she slid a few feet, her arms windmilling. Pain flared in her ankle, and she gritted her teeth, waiting for the pulsing pain to subside before lifting her leg and rotating her foot carefully. It ached in complaint but didn’t seem to be broken. She breathed a sigh of relief. Her grand escape would have ended abruptly if she’d injured herself mere feet from the cave.
She started walking again, more slowly this time. The pain in her ankle quickly turned to a dull throb, and she forced herself to keep going. The sooner she got out of these mountains, the better.
She didn’t know how long she walked, maybe an hour or more. It was hard to tell in the dim light of the forest. The trees were so tall and thick that very little sunlight filtered through, leaving the ground beneath her dappled in the shade.
She paused for a moment, listening. She heard no sound apart from the rustle of leaves in the breeze and the calls of birds in the trees above. Or there had been. A chill washed down her spine. Now she heard no bird song. She wasn’t a deep woods elf, but even she knew that was bad.
She looked around, trying to see through the undergrowth. Then she heard it. A deep, rumbling growl that sent a chill down her spine. A twig snapped somewhere off to her left. Immediately, she froze, her heart hammering in her chest as she tried to silence her breaths. Every muscle in her body screamed at her to run, but she made herself stay in place. Her heart pounded in her ears as she tried to listen.
Something was tracking her through the forest. And it wasn’t Gudvar.
She had to move. Now. She turned and ran, darting between the trees as fast as she could. The pain in her ankle was forgotten as adrenaline coursed through her veins, urging her on.
She could hear whatever was following her crashing through the undergrowth behind her. It sounded big, and it was gaining on her. She ran as fast as she could, but it was still gaining on her no matter what she tried. She could hear its heavy breathing, and it seemed closer every time she looked back. The ominous shadow in the trees behind her was chasing her no matter how much she twisted and turned to escape it.
She spotted a tree with low-hanging branches ahead of her and put on a burst of speed, diving for the branch and swinging herself up just as whatever was chasing her collided with the trunk beneath her.
She scrambled higher, panting and trying to escape the thing below her. A vicious snarl froze the blood in her veins, and she cast a desperate glance downward. A mountain lion. It was huge, its fur a dirty tan. Its yellow eyes, filled with hunger, latched on to her as massive fangs snapped at her trailing foot. She snatched it out of reach, adrenaline still coursing through her as she climbed as fast as she could.
She knew she couldn’t keep this up forever. Eventually, the lion would catch her. But she had to try. She had to survive.
The lion was climbing the tree after her, its enormous claws tearing at the bark. She was scrambling higher and higher, but it was still following. Finally, she reached a point where she couldn’t go any higher without risking a fall. She perched on the thin branch, her legs shaking. She’d miscalculated the distance between the tree and the cliff’s edge. No way would she reach it…
The lion was almost upon her now, its eyes gleaming with hunger. She braced herself for the impact, knowing she could do nothing to escape.
Her scream echoed around the small gulley’s rock walls, almost deafening her as she crouched down, waiting for the slice of claws and the crush of the lion’s powerful jaws to end her life.
But it never came.
She heard a roar, deeper and more dangerous than the cat’s snarls. She heard a loud thump, the thrashing of leaves, and then a whimper followed by silence. Slowly, she raised her head to see what had happened. The lion lay at the bottom of the cliff, its neck at an impossible angle. It was dead.
And Gudvar stood over it.