For a moment she lay there, stunned, as silence fell around her. She was dead. She had to be. Then she realized someone was screaming. High-pitched and full of rage.
“No! No! It can’t be! Traitor! Null traitor!”
Kelly groaned and flopped over to find one of the amazonian faeries advancing on her, dagger raised and murder in her eyes.
“Null bitch,” she hissed. “You will pay for this!”
Kelly swallowed, trying to scrabble back but knowing she wasn’t going to make it. Her hand brushed against the dead husk of the bomb. Somehow she’d managed to stop it, negate its effects, but it didn’t make a difference. She was still going to die. Right here. Right now.
A wordless roar sounded from the other side of the fire as Karak leapt over it, taking the faery’s head off with a single swipe of his massive war axe.
Chaos exploded as the faeries scattered, screaming. Kelly didn’t have any energy to do more than scuttle backward to try and escape the mayhem.
“She’s the enemy. Kill her!” An orc growled, grabbing Kelly and throwing her to the ground as he reached for the war axe over his back.
She locked her gaze with Karak’s in desperation. If she was going to die, she wanted the last thing she saw to be his face.
Karak snarled, stopping the orc mid-movement as he reached for his axe.
“This woman is no faery. She is human.”
He couldn’t believe he was saying those words. But he’d never seen a faery or any of the magical races nullify a faery bomb like that. The only race, according to legend anyway, that could do that… was humanity. They had no magic in their veins, so magic didn’t hurt them. The most it could do was contain them.
“She is not the enemy… she is mine. Understand?”
No one moved. No one stepped forward.
“Understand?” he roared, glaring at them all.
“Yes, yes…” Batak yawned widely, waving a hand. “You can keep your little… human,” he said, air quotes around the word. “Thus I have spoken.”
The orc who’d touched Kelly had gone purple, as though he wasn’t even breathing for fear of incurring Karak’s wrath. He should worry. Karak knew his name and where in camp he bedded down so it was only a matter of time before he decided they needed a friendly little “chat” off in the darkness of the woods.
No one thought anything of two buds heading into the woods for some “male bonding.” With so few females, it was expected. Karak didn’t do man-on-man action, but there was going to be a whole lot of knife-across-throat action. No one touched his female and got away with it.
There were no challengers. Relief and disappointment shimmered through Karak as he switched his attention to Kelly, standing at the front of the group of faery women. Relief because she wouldn’t have to see him brutally kill men for the right to make her his, and disappointment that she hadn’t seen him doing what he did best.
Any sense of relaxation disappeared as his gaze wandered over her. Fuck, she looked fantastic. His body roared to life, cock straining against the leather of his loincloth and throbbing in complaint at the confinement.
“Come here.”
The order was rough and growled in a low voice. Feet spread, a glower on his face and his skin still splattered with troll blood, he cut a fearsome figure. One who three of the faery women were eyeing with panic as they huddled at the back of the group, obviously terrified he was talking to them.
He ignored them, his attention all for the woman whose touch haunted him. The feel of her body against his, the soft breathy sighs of pleasure, the way her pussy hugged his cock…
She didn’t move, just watched him with her chin up, as aloof and poised as if she were a grand lady and he a mere serf who’d had the audacity to speak to her.
“I said, come here.” He shoved his thumbs into his belt, his stance imposing. “Don’t make me come and fetch you.”
Gods, he wanted to. Wanted to chase her down, tumble her to the ground and show her why he was the only male she’d ever need. Admiration ran through him as she appeared to consider her choices. Defying him, challenging his authority. Anticipation welled, whipping the lust swirling through him into a frenzy. He’d make her pay for the defiance, in ways they’d both enjoy immensely.
She flicked her hair over her shoulders and arched her back so the sheer shift moved over her luscious figure. Her dusky nipples pressed against the fabric, drawing a groan from the crowd. He ignored them as she walked slowly across the clearing, picking her way with care.
With each step, the shift parted to reveal the length of her legs, from delicate and tiny bare feet all the way up to thighs that made a man want to get down on his knees and thank the gods he was male. Thighs Karak planned to part and then wrap around his waist as he plunged into her heat.
His heart thundered behind his ribs as she approached, the heavy thud driving adrenaline around his body. Forcing himself not to move, he watched her with an implacable gaze. His cock jerked again, begging for release. Just a few more steps and he could touch her, draw her into his arms, and claim her forever.
She stopped just out of reach and tilted her head to give him a challenging look. Silence fell in the clearing as those assembled watched the drama unfolding. They’d come to watch a claiming, but this was turning into something far more explosive.
“Don’t play games with me, little one. You won’t like the reaction.”
He lowered his voice warningly, aware of everything around them. The clearing, the interested spectators just waiting for him to grab her, force her onto her hands and knees and fuck her. He wanted to, his cock as desperate as he was to claim her utterly in the eyes of his people.
She bit her lip, her expression slipping and allowing him to see the nerves within. Realization hit him hard. Eyes narrowing, he looked past the erotic image she presented, the one his very male instincts wanted to focus on, and saw what was actually there.
Under the bravado, she trembled, the thin fabric of her shift giving her away as she took a breath in, the pulse at her throat pounding as thickly as his. As he watched, she gathered her composure and lifted her chin to give him a look that all but seared the flesh from his bones.
“Perhaps I want to play.”
That did it. Karak’s control snapped and he surged forward. She was quicker. With a squeal, she dodged under his outstretched arm and darted past him. Lust warred with delight at the game she was playing. He roared and raced after her.
She didn’t get far. He caught up with her two steps past the furs he’d been sitting on. His hand caught her shoulder, spinning her around and throwing her off balance at the same time. She collided with his outstretched arm and gasped as he hauled her up against his muscled body.
She didn’t struggle, her eyes wide in her delicate heart-shaped face and searching his. Behind him, the crowd roared approval that he’d caught his prize and a chant started up.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”
He ignored it, holding her against him with one arm and snagging his free hand in the mass of red hair at her nape. He’d take her when he was good and ready.
“Never run from me.”
His voice rasped with the control he was exerting over himself. Every primal instinct he had demanded he topple to the ground, part her creamy thighs and bury himself balls deep. He should take her. He wanted to, and the crowd expected it. But the trembling that racked her slender frame held him off.