The pixie zipped off, all energy and enthusiasm and way too fucking cheerful for Karak’s liking. He didn’t know why it was so happy. It wasn’t as if the creature had a chance at any of the women. Twenty women weren’t going to go far if they weren’t allowed to share, and the claimed were never shared.
Which meant most of the crowd gathered were only going to get a look and had no chance of any real action tonight unless they could persuade one of the camp whores into a little bed sport. Unprincipled barbarians they might be, but they did have some morals. Just not many. Sighing, he gave in and followed. If he didn’t show, Batak would just send more pixies to irritate him. Then he’d have to kill them, and pixie blood was a bastard to get off.
“They’re here… Fuck, look at the tits on that one.”
The chattering crowd parted to let him pass, for once ignoring him in favor of the show about to be put on.
“I want a blonde,” one to his left groaned.
“Yeah? Grunt like you? Like you’ve got a chance. Best you stick to Pam and her five little friends.” His friend retorted, both of them sliding out of the way as Karak stomped past.
“Ahh, Karak. Glad you could make it. I have a little surprise for you.”
Batak looked up from his blackened throne as Karak made his way over, clearing a space next to the throne with another black glare at the orcs sitting there. They scattered like vaguely smelly leaves in the wind.
He grunted as he dropped to the hastily vacated furs. He didn’t want any more of Batak’s surprises unless it was the guy’s head on a plate. He slid a sideways glance at his king. Hurry up and sire a brat, so I can gut you without breaking my promise.
The other orc caught his look and clicked his tongue chidingly.
“Now, is that any way to treat your king? Especially when I’ve gone out of my way to do something nice for you.”
“Fuck off.”
Batak laughed, leaned back on his throne, and ran a hand through his shoulder-length hair. Like Karak, he preferred his hair long, but on the pretty-boy king, longer locks made him look like a jumped-up faery.
“Well, I’m not one for redheads, but if you don’t want her, I guess I could rise to the occasion.”
Karak’s temper rose. He didn’t like cryptic, and Batak was wily tongued at the best of times. “Talk plain orcish.”
Batak’s eyes flashed with anger.
“Open your fucking eyes, Karak, instead of letting that rage blind you.” He nodded toward the group of women assembled the other side of the “court” clearing.
All faeries, slender with delicate limbs, they were dressed in the almost sheer white claiming shifts as they were marched as a group to stand in front of the fire. Nervously they watched the orcs around them, one gasping as one of the braver spectators sneaked past the guards to grope the rounded globe of her ass. She responded with a glare and a slap that almost made Karak grin. That was so like his Kelly.
The orc growled at the blow, starting forward, his fist raised. Karak flicked a glance over the woman and froze. Red hair tumbled over her almost bare shoulders, the slender form he’d last seen in ridiculous odd clothing encased in a white shift as she moved to the front of the group. His jaw dropped open.
Kelly. Here. In a claiming shift.
His feral instincts roared.
Mine.
CHAPTER TEN
No way was this going to work. Kelly held her breath and kept her head down, her hair covering her face as she walked at the back of the group of faery women. She wasn’t the only one without wings, so she wasn’t worried about being found out that way. No, she was more worried about the amazonian faeries at the front of the group realizing that she wasn’t one of their number and gutting her before they could get within the orc camp lines just up ahead.
Just a few more steps… She held her breath as they trooped past hard-faced orcs. They weren’t leering, their expressions focused on the woods behind the little faery group as though they expected the full might of the faery army to burst from its shadows and attack.
But it wouldn’t. The attack was going to be from within and they were letting a Trojan horse, or faery in this case, into their midst to kill them all. Every instinct in her body told her to bellow and warn them, but she couldn’t see Karak or even Graal with his silver hair among the orcs on the line. She wouldn’t trust anyone else, and no one else would trust her word. They were more likely to kill her on sight.
“Come to join us, little pretties? You’ll be coming before nightfall. That’s for sure.”
“How’d you like your males, faery? Well hung and green as fuck?”
The taunts and jeering started as they were led along a narrow forest path into the main camp. The faeries grouped closer, as if for protection against the lusty gazes of the orc males, but instead, the largest of the warrior faeries murmured orders.
“Keep it together. Shield the bomb. We need to get within spitting distance of the dread king.”
She huddled closer with the rest of the group, playing her part in their plan as she looked through her loose hair for either Graal or Karak. Hell, she’d even settle for Claw at the moment. But she couldn’t see any of them and her panic began to rise as they reached a large central clearing.
They were ushered in front of a large fire. She looked up and saw Batak, the orc king, seated on a large black throne opposite.
“Hold… just a few more seconds. Let the crowd grow a little more. We need to take out as many as we can.”
Her desperation grew as she looked around and still couldn’t spot Karak. She needed to find him, tell him what was happening. But if he wasn’t here…
A familiar snarl reached her ears and she whirled around to see Karak striding through the crowd, which parted like butter before a hot knife to let him through.
She gasped, relief making her knees weak. Taking a breath to warn him, she started to step forward only to feel a sharp prick against her ribs.
“Say a word,” a voice whispered in her ear, “and I’ll gut you on the spot.”
Tears filled her eyes as she watched Karak sit next to the king, snarling at something he said. The king laughed, and Karak threw back his head. Her heart ached at the sheer beauty of the man.
She loved him.
With every cell in her body.
She didn’t know how and when it had happened. When she’d stopped thinking of home as home, and Karak had become home instead. But he had.
“Ready? Detonation in three… two…”
She couldn’t let this happen. She couldn’t let them detonate the bomb here and kill Karak or the rest of the orcs. Even if it killed her.
“No!” she screamed, twisting and turning to evade the woman who had a knife at her ribs. The faery was only expecting her to try and escape, not turn back into the group. Kelly slipped right past her, and then she saw it, the bright violet ball of light one of them in the center held. It looked… pretty. Delicate. Not like a magical weapon of mass destruction.
Screaming, she rushed the woman, taking her down with her best imitation of a rugby tackle and slapping the bomb out of her hands. It dropped and bounced on the ground so she followed it, still screaming as she lay over it.
Then it exploded, like a mule kicking her in the stomach, the bright violet light blinded her.