Dorothy and the Monster

MONSTERS OF MOUNT MOORHEAD BOOK 3

SOPHIA SMUT

OceanofPDF.com
Copyright © 2023 by Sophia Smut

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means,
including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author,
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Created with Vellum

OceanofPDF.com
 Contents

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14

Afterword

OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter

One

D orothy

“I want you back . You belong to me and only me, you stupid slut!” my
ex-husband Todd yells once we’re outside.
I’m too numb to respond. Too broken to believe this nightmare will ever
end. He appeared out of nowhere, ruined my first date since the divorce by
following me to the restaurant, then dragged me out on the street. How did I
ever hope I could ever move on?
Daniel, the one I’d chosen to break my year-long no-dating stint with, a
financial advisor who seemed mature, responsible and kind, is waiting for
me to return from the ladies’ room and order dessert.
It’s been going so well, too. The restaurant is welcoming and
sophisticated, giving off a nice, intimate vibe. Soft yellow lights cast a
warm glow over the entire space. The place is quite busy, full of couples
and groups of friends chatting and laughing at nearby tables. Soft jazz
music is playing in the background—just perfect. This has scored many
points for Daniel.
There is chemistry between us and most importantly, he seems the
opposite of my narcissistic ex. Not that I could ever trust a man so soon, but
this has been a small step in the right direction.
The whole damn evening has been nearly magical and until Todd
showed up, I’ve been happy to finally leave the bruises of my toxic
marriage behind.
Again, I want to hit my head against the wall. How delusional have I
been to ever think this could work?
I wonder how long Todd’s been following me around, watching my
every move.
Now I’ll never go back to Daniel because Todd was waiting for me right
outside the restroom door. I can’t embarrass him with my ex making a scene
and bring my problems to the dinner table on a first date.
Without hesitation, Todd drags me forcefully through the back exit of
the establishment.
My date will probably think I ghosted him.
Todd doesn’t stop moving as he continues to throw insults at me. I try to
wriggle myself free but the man’s too strong. He pushes me into his car then
ties up my seatbelt over my arms and chest, confining me in a mental and
physical cage as he drives me home.
I’m frozen for a moment, unable to fight back, but then I come to my
senses.
“Don’t move, bitch,” he says as he watches me squirm and pull my
arms free.
When he arrives at my apartment, I stupidly tell myself this will be the
end of the night but it’s just the beginning of a bad, bad dream.
One I know all too well.
He drags me in and I silently pray we come face-to-face with one of my
neighbors so I can cry for help. Unfortunately, I’m not so lucky.
We make it inside and he throws me on the floor, then crouches down,
looking at me with wild eyes, the very Devil in his face.
 When he lands the first punch, I freeze for a moment before my
subconscious gives me a nudge and I start to fight him. When I scratch him
on the back of the hand, drawing blood, I can’t deny the sense of
satisfaction that fills me.
“Fucking bitch!” he shouts, slapping me with the other hand. “I should
fuck you right here but right now, you make me want to vomit. Cheap ten-
dollar whore … but you’re my whore. Mine and only mine!”
He’s deranged, completely out of his mind. If I hurt him again, he’s
going to kill me.
“There’s … a restraining order,” I blurt out, the coppery taste of blood
in my mouth. I scramble for my phone, but he swats it out of my hand.
“We’re divorced. I’m not yours!” I spit out, unable to help myself.
“You miserable cunt. Yeah, try calling the police, why don’t you? As if I
care. No judge can keep me away from you!” He brings my face to barely
an inch from his. “There’s nowhere to hide from me, cupcake.” And then he
laughs—a deranged sound that pierces through my skull and makes my
head pound.
I purse my lips and hold back a retort because that’s just what he wants.
To get me all frazzled so he can hit me harder.
He rears his hand back and I bring my arms up to protect my face. “I’m
not done with you tonight,” he continues. “First off, let’s make sure you
won’t be able to see any other man for a while, huh?” He grabs my hands in
a vise grip and bears down on me with the other.
God, there’s no way out of this one.
The slap stings my cheek and the burn hasn’t ebbed before another hit
catches me on the side of the head. My ears ring, my body stiffens then
shakes. I cry out, begging him to stop because at this point, there’s no pride
left.
This man is not going to be happy until he’s finally killed me.
 Tears fall down but the more I beg, the more I struggle, the more vicious
he gets … so I stop. All I can do is lie down sobbing silently as he lands the
last blow to my face, the one that makes me lose consciousness and plunges
me into the darkness.

I rub my face , trying to push the memories of last night away. It's morning
and I am alone. He left me there, passed out, and I just woke up. I consider
calling the police, and I should, but all I want to do is escape.
Also, my first concern now should be my friend, Jane. She was
supposed to call me during her trip but I haven’t heard from her. I’m
worried sick. The urgency to locate her is paramount and at the same time I
need the distraction, especially after last night. This is a perfect time for me
to get away like she did and figure out what to do next with my life, too.
I sit at the edge of my bed, holding a hand mirror and gazing back at
myself in disgust. My face is a mess, thanks to the bastard. I shake my head
while a mix of hatred, fear, and anger seeps into me.
At this moment I begin to believe I'll never be able to get rid of him, and
the thought sends shivers down my spine. I slowly raise my left hand, a
feeling of dread coursing through me as I gently touch the skin around my
left eye, now blackened and plump from Todd's violent smacks and
punches. Examining my bruises, I see a range of colors and shapes, but the
black eye is the most prominent, with a deep purplish-blue hue that seems
to darken the longer I stare at it. The skin around my eye is puffy and
swollen, making it uncomfortable for me to blink.
“Shit!” I curse as I spot a reddish-purple mark on my temple where my
ex-husband's fist connected with my skull. I didn’t notice it a moment ago.
There's also a smaller bruise on my nose, slightly swollen and tender to the
touch—but my greatest relief is that it’s not broken.
 “Fuck this,” I say, getting off the bed. A moment later I am storming
into the bathroom with a newfound determination. Even though every
movement makes my head hurt to the point of madness, I need to do
something. To plan and find a way to gather the pieces and move on.
I swallow a couple of extra strength Tylenol and take care of my bruises
the best I can, then jump in the shower to wash off the son of a bitch’s filthy
touch off my body.
It's early morning and perhaps I’m a bit off my rocker to think this is a
good idea. I am going to climb the mountain, the very thing I told Jane not
to do. But this is my friend and I want to make sure she’s okay. Hopefully I
can track her down and bring her home. I need this … I need to do
something good. Something that will convince me this world is worth
fighting for.
My mind is racing. I feel like I’m in a big cage and it’s just a matter of
time before Todd shows up again to wreck more damage. I’m scared of him
and this makes me furious.
After about an hour, doubts begin to creep in as I get off my bike and
secure it to the rack just outside a parking lot about a quarter mile away. I
want to walk my anxiety off, even though my legs already feel tired and
numb before I’ve even started on my trek. I start to regret my decision to
bike down here, but I set aside any misgivings and forge on, ignoring any
discomfort, trudging toward the looming Mount Moorhead.
At least I won’t be running into anyone today. This morning, I also
called in sick to work, something I never do but couldn’t avoid unless I
wanted to field a shit-ton of uncomfortable questions. Maybe when I get
back, I’ll go to a doctor or go heavy on the makeup. Anything as long as I
don’t have to explain myself.
I have a few pieces of hiking equipment with me in a backpack, as well
as provisions. Even though I don’t exactly know what I’m doing or where
I’m headed on the mountain—there are no maps available online—being a
little prepared helps. My steps seem steadier now as I walk forward. The
path ahead looks rugged, winding its way toward my destination, and I
expect a challenging journey ahead.
Finally, the hulking mountain stands before me. I quickly take another
step forward—I’m here and it would be silly to chicken out now. The
enormous rock is majestic as it reaches to the sky, with its peak shrouded in
mist and its slopes covered in lush foliage, from delicate wildflowers to
towering trees. I stop for a moment to take pictures of some of them.
As I walk up, the forest grows thick and I can't see the base of the
mountain. Kudzu clings to some of the tree trunks, giving them an eerie
appearance. Farther in, the trees begin to thin out, giving way to hardy
shrubs and grasses, a thick and varied undergrowth.
As I take more pictures of the scenery, another flashback hits me from
last night. I see Todd’s face, twisted and dark and evil. He loved hurting me,
and he’d have done more if I hadn’t blacked out.
Sharp pain hits my senses as I poke an area on my right cheek a little
too strongly. I sigh loudly out of sheer frustration as I pause to take a breath.
Pushing the toxic visions away, I concentrate on my hike again.
A little ways up, I bring out my collapsible hiking poles and support
myself with them as I move. I study the complex ecosystem, the unusual
rocks and greenery during my trek. With each step I take toward the top, the
air grows cooler and with the trees getting sparse, I can catch stunning
views of the valley below. Then the plant life begins to change, giving way
to hardier plants and greenery that have adapted to the harsher conditions at
higher altitudes.
I stop for a moment and look around me. I am alone in the middle of a
potentially dangerous place and the reality of my situation slaps me in the
face. But I am already well more than halfway up. If I am being honest, I’d
say this threatens me way less than Todd does. I remind myself that I am
getting away from a more immediate threat.
 I gingerly touch my face again to remember why I am here. Apart from
Jane, of course. I wince as a sharp pain slices through me.
“All right,” I say to myself, “I can do this.”
I continue my journey toward the top. Nearly three hours have gone
now since I started. The path becomes steeper as I approach the summit,
and I have to rely on my hiking equipment to keep myself steady. I use my
trekking poles to help me climb, and my sturdy hiking boots keep my feet
firmly on the ground.
I stop for a moment, then decide it's time for me to take a short break to
catch my breath. I drink some water and enjoy the sandwich I brought with
me, admiring the incredible views that surround me. Everything appears
small from up here. And surprisingly, I feel safe. I am well away from Todd
and his erratic ways. In less than an hour, I might be able to find clues that
lead me to Jane.
I resume my trek. Finally, after hours of climbing, I reach the top of the
mountain. I find myself in a vast plateau covered in soft green grass and
dotted with wildflowers. In the distance are more peaks and deep valleys,
and the sky is an endless expanse of blue. I look around me. Where do I go
next?
I am out of breath and sweating, but the view is worth it. I stand there,
admiring the breathtaking scenery around me. A great silence surrounds
me, a balm to my senses, except for the familiar and rhythmic sounds of
birds.
Suddenly, I hear a loud thud. I quickly turn around and to my horror, I
find a giant creature standing behind me.
"Oh my God!" I yell. My eyes can’t believe what I'm seeing. Fear takes
over me and I begin to shake with the possibility of what this beast can do
to me. Still, the creature looks familiar. Like something from the movies…
Orc! My head is about to explode. It's an orc. I have seen this figure
countless times on the screen. Holy shit. Are they real or am I going nuts
and seeing things at this altitude?
The orc is at least ten feet tall and has a muscular build. He has green
skin and yellow eyes that seem to glow in the sunlight.
His face is rugged and scarred, and he has long hair that is tied back in a
ponytail. His attire consists of a loin cloth and leather armor that looks like
it has been stitched together from various animal hides. His hands are
enormous, and his fingers are long and claw-like. I can’t believe what I am
seeing before me. I have heard stories about orcs, but obviously I have
never seen one before.
I stumble back, hoping to find something to lean on because my legs are
failing me. Tough luck. I take another backward step, considering running
for the hills and leaving all my stuff behind.
The orc looks down at me with a menacing glare, as if trying to
determine what he should do to me. Oh boy, I am in trouble. I keep on
backing away slowly, one subtle step after the other, but the orc moves
quickly and grabs me by the arm with ease. He is much stronger than Todd
and definitely capable of doing more damage.
What have I done?
I try to break free but the orc's grip is too strong. I stand no chance
whatsoever. He lifts me effortlessly off the ground and begins to carry me
away toward another path I haven’t noticed before.
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter

Two

D orothy

I try to open my eyes but fail. When I finally manage, I am unable to see
anything. It's pitch black. It seems as if I’ve had my eyes closed for a long
time. I feel dizzy, much like a sensation of vertigo taking over.
Then I try to sit up but can't move, either. My hands and feet feel numb,
as though bound. I attempt to wiggle them—no dice. Panic sets in and I
start to hyperventilate. My heart races and so does my mind. What the hell
is going on? Where am I?
I work on calming myself down, hand on chest. Taking a deep breath, I
close my eyes again, trying to remember how I got here. The last thing I did
was… What was it?
I’m having a hard time figuring it out. Then it comes to me. I feel a little
victory as I recall getting to the top of the mountain. What was I doing
there? I can’t seem to grasp that slice of memory.
Everything is a blur of distant recollections. The dark isn’t helping,
either. I think I’m beginning to have a headache and I’m feeling a little
queasy. What is this smell? I sniff as a strange but not unpleasant odor drifts
past my nose.
 My body aches all over, just like it used to during those violent
altercations with Todd. Todd … I saw him recently, didn’t I? Oh! Todd! It
all begins to come back. Todd disrupted my date yesterday and hit me again
… then I came to Mount Moorhead to look for Jane.
I reached the mountain summit where I came face to face with a giant
orc! I remember him grabbing me and carrying me away with him, after
which I woke up here, wherever this is.
With a sigh, I open my eyes again and focus on my surroundings,
beginning to notice things better. I feel a little relief now that I remember a
few things.
I realize the room isn’t all dark, but the only source of light is a few
candles scattered around. The flickering flames cast eerie shadows on the
walls. The room is not big, no more than a few feet wide. The walls are
made of stone, and the floor is rough and cold. There are no windows,
doors, or even a visible way out, but I feel kind of cold, despite the warmth
from the candles. Where has this creature brought me?
I strain against my bonds but they won't budge, though they’re not tight.
In the dim lighting, I raise my hands in front of me. I’m unable to determine
the kind of material used to restrain me. I am trapped, helpless. Fear
washes over me, and I can't stop the rolls of tears from falling down my
cheek. No one will ever be able to find me here. I’ve been such a fool.
I look around the room again, hoping for some clue, some hint of what's
going on. There's nothing but the candles and the stone walls. But wait …
there's something etched into the wall in front of me. I squint, trying to
make out the shapes. It's a symbol, one I've never seen before. It looks like
a combination of a star and a moon, with lines connecting the points.
My mind races again, trying to make sense of it. Is it a clue? A
warning? Or just a random marking? I can't tell. What do orcs do? How do
they live? And most importantly, would they kill someone like me? My
head aches worse than ever. I close my eyes yet again, trying to get a grip. I
can't afford to panic, not if I want to live or have any chance of getting out
of here.
I take a few deep breaths to steady my nerves. I look around again, this
time focusing on the candles. There are five of them, all of different sizes
and shapes. One is a plain white pillar candle, while another is a small tea
light. The next one is a tall, thin taper, while another is a squat, round
candle in a glass jar. The last one is the oddest of all: it's shaped like a hand,
with fingers curled inward.
I stare at the hand-shaped candle. It's so strange, so eerie. What kind of
place is this? Who would create such a room?
Orcs. I wonder if I’m just being overly sensitive and paranoid. If the
creature that kidnapped me wants me dead, he would have killed me by
now. But why am I here now? More specifically, why has the orc brought
me here?
My thoughts are interrupted by a faint scratching noise. I strain to listen,
but it's too muted. I can barely make it out over the sound of my own
breathing. But it's there, getting louder. My heart races again and panic rises
to my throat. I start to scream for help, but my voice is weak and hoarse. I
realize how tired I am from climbing up the mountain. How long have I
been unconscious? In the dim lighting I can make out my watch is broken.
Now, I wonder how many there are like the beast I saw. There must be
more.
The headache lingers at the back of my head while the scratching gets
louder, and I can hear something moving in the shadows behind the walls of
this room. I can't see it, but I can sense its presence. Suddenly, the candles
flicker and go out. I'm plunged into darkness again and the scratching sound
becomes almost unbearable.
I sense something brushing against a small opening by the wall before
me. No, not an opening … I think it’s a door. Suddenly, the shadows retreat
fast as loud footsteps approach. Then, as if on cue, the candles come back
on, and as I focus, I can make out the hinges now, too.
The footsteps stop at the door, which is thrust wide open. My face is
flushed with sudden light from the outside—an area that looks like a
balcony up ahead. Two big creatures stand before me, pushing their bodies
forward, one after the other.
“Pardon the mischief of our little ones,” one of them says.
I quickly pick up that he is referring to the scary shadows I saw earlier.
So, those were children orcs playing around with me. They must have seen
a different creature carried inside here and wanted to satisfy their curiosity.
Guess children are the same everywhere, orcs or humans. I would have
smiled at the thought, but my mind is in a million places at the same time.
Seems I was right. There are more of them indeed. One of them moves
closer to me and pulls the binding around my wrists. The whole thing
comes loose immediately. I feel like an idiot again for not trying that
sooner. He does the same to the one at my ankles. The binding comes loose
even more easily than the first.
“Come with us,” the other one says, and his colleague pulls me up with
one of his hands.
I should be scared, and I am—as well as uneasy and restless. But
something about these creatures makes me relaxed as much as I can be,
under the circumstances. Maybe it is the way the orc that kidnapped me
first looked at me, as if wondering if he should ignore me or do something.
Or the way these ones are going about their business without making a big
deal of it.
The two giant orcs lead me through a maze of corridors and up a series
of staircases that seem to go on forever. As I go further with them, my
palms start to sweat. Lightheadedness remains a factor, but I tell myself to
get it together. As much as I see a soft part to these creatures, I have no idea
what they want with me, and the thought of being among them for too long
terrifies me to the core.
As we climb higher, I begin to notice the architecture of this place. The
walls are made of rough-hewn stone and there are torches flickering in
sconces along the walls. The ceiling is arched, and intricate carvings in the
stone depict scenes of battle and conquest.
I can't help but wonder how the orcs managed to build such an
impressive structure on the side of a mountain. The stone is so rough and
jagged, and yet they've managed to shape it into something beautiful.
As we reach a landing, I notice a set of massive double doors ahead of
us. They're made of dark wood, with intricate carvings of orcs and other
creatures. The doors are at least twice my height, and I can hear the faint
sounds of voices coming from the other side.
I find the courage to ask my companions, “Where are you taking me?”
My tone is demanding, but they both ignore me. I know it is fruitless to
press on, so I will keep silent for now. I will find out soon enough.
The two orcs push the doors open and I'm hit with a blast of cool air.
We're in a long corridor where two other giant orcs are standing on either
side of another set of doors far in front of us. The space has high ceilings
and walls made of stone, just like the areas we have walked through on our
way here. Torches line the walls, casting flickering light across the room.
Finally, we reach the second massive set of dark wood doors. As they
open, I catch a glimpse of what's inside. More orcs. This time around, I am
hit with warmer air.
It's a throne room, I realize as they walk me farther inside. Like
something out of a fairy tale. But instead of human kings and queens, there
are orcs of every shape and size.
The room is huge, so big that I can't see the other end clearly. It's lit by
torches, their flames casting shadows on the walls. The floor is made of
stone, too, and tapestries and banners hang from the walls. Some are made
of animal hides, others of cloth or silk. They depict scenes of battles, hunts,
and similar themes.
The orcs are seated in different areas of the room, each with their own
kind. The first group I see are the ones my mind names the brute orcs.
Massive creatures with broad shoulders and thick arms, they are sitting on
the left side of the room, on stone benches that are almost as wide as they
are. They are covered in furs and leather, and their weapons are close at
hand. These are clearly warriors and definitely not to be messed with.
On the other side are the smaller orcs, the ones who look more like
goblins. They are seated on cushions on the floor, their thin legs crossed.
They wear brightly colored clothes, and some of them have jewelry or
trinkets hanging from their ears or around their necks. They chatter amongst
themselves, pointing at me as I am led through the room by the two giant
orcs.
At the other end of the room is a raised platform, and on it is what looks
like a throne. Seated on it is another orc that I can’t see well from my
position. But I do notice that the orc’s features are fixated on me as I walk
closer. The throne is centered on the platform, such that it commands
attention from anyone who enters the large hall.
The platform is an impressive structure, I realize, now that I have a
better view. It is made of dark metal and studded with gems, at least twice
as wide as the throne itself. It's shaped like a monstrous creature with its
mouth open wide. The edge of the platform is made to look like the
creature's wings, and its back is studded with spikes.
I can now see the king, a massive orc with a crown of gold on his head.
Clad in a dark cloak, he stares at me unwaveringly as I approach. He's
flanked by two massive bodyguards, yet not as big as the ones I nicknamed
the brute orcs.
The throne continues to catch my attention. It's unlike anything I've ever
seen before. Made of something that looks like dark, twisted wood, it's
easily more than half my height. The back of it is much bigger than the orc
king himself, adorned with sharp, deadly-looking spikes, and the armrests
are carved in the shape of snarling beasts.
Skulls and bones are scattered around the base of the chair. I can't help
but wonder if they're the remains of the orcs' enemies, or those of people
like me who they deem to be trespassers on their territory. I shudder with
terror at the thought.
The orc king’s massive frame looms over me as I stand before him. His
face is twisted into a permanent scowl, and the muscles in his jaw work
relentlessly as he clenches and unclenches his teeth. As formidable as he is,
I am shocked to realize that I do not find him terrifying at all.
Maybe I should, but I’m more fearful of the situation than the beast
himself. The throne he sits on is a true testament to the orcs' power and
dominance, yet instead of foreboding I am wracked with the desire to know
what other wonders this bizarre, unfamiliar world holds.
“Where is this place? And why have you kidnapped me and kept me in
a prison?” I blurt out. No matter what, I still need to keep calm while I seek
answers. I have done absolutely nothing wrong and if I have somehow
trespassed by walking on their territory, I will explain why I am here and
why I should be allowed to leave.
Of course, things can never be that simple.
He says nothing, only keeps studying me. The blood rushes to my head,
spurred by dread. Not because I fear the creature towering before me or
because I am in the midst of creatures who can decide to kill me anytime
they want. It is because somehow, in a very crazy way—the craziest notion
I have entertained in all of my life—I find the orc king handsome in a very
peculiar way.
I think I’m finally losing my mind.
I need to distract myself, so I momentarily avert my gaze from his face.
When I return my attention to him, I realize he doesn’t look like he is going
to give me a reply, so I keep talking.
“I have come to this mountain looking for my friend, Jane. I have no
other intentions, nor did I know that this is your territory.” I say, gesturing
toward the other orcs in the room.
It is crazy that Todd scares me more than this huge monster before me
with his massive green body hovering over me. Yep. I’m definitely out of
my mind.
Now, I am now seriously interested in what the orc king is going to do
next. I know he can’t stay like this forever. At some point, he’ll make a
move—maybe say something. I want to hear him talk. The two giant orcs
communicated with me, so I know he can, too.
Just when I am contemplating what to say next, he rises from his throne
and begins to descend toward me. I resist the urge to step back as he gets
closer. I am determined to hold my ground.
I can see his features clearly now. He isn't like the others. He looks
decidedly different from all the other kinds of orcs I have seen so far. I can’t
place my finger on it but something about him seems tender. It’s his green
eyes...
You’re in-fucking-sane, Dorothy.
There are now just a few feet between us. He is huge, muscular, green,
and has two large fangs that stick out of his mouth. Striking. There’s also
something else. Something much more intense … a sense that he dominates
over all around him. And it is taking a huge amount of resistance to keep
me from reacting physically to his close presence. It is like a compulsion,
the wildest thing I have ever experienced, even though he hasn’t done
anything to me yet.
Wait! Did I just say ‘yet’? What is wrong with me? What is this beast
doing to my body? He begins to circle me slowly as he examines me. His
face is only inches away from mine. As he stares at me, the muscle in his
jaw ticks. He looks furious and my heart skips a beat.
 Then he growls.
"Who did this?"
I open my mouth to say something but can't make a sound. Is he angry
about my eye? He doesn't even know me and it seems he already can't stand
me. Or am I misreading him?
I wasn’t expecting the first thing coming out of his mouth to be him
asking how I managed to get the black eye. I have actually forgotten about
it. Considering my journey up till now, Todd and the events of the previous
night seem like a distant memory.
The orc’s voice isn’t as deep as I imagined it to be, or even as rough, yet
its velvety timber sends an instant tingle down my spine. I say nothing as he
moves slowly behind me. I can feel his breath on my cheek and my nipples
harden, then I swallow hard.
“I don't like repeating myself, little one,” he growls again. "Who did
this? Who do I have torture, then reduce to ash?"
I say nothing again, unable to formulate any kind of response.
A chuckle comes out of him as he stares at my lips. I like his scent—
musky and magnificent. “I advise you to tell me everything about you and
keep no secret when I ask,” he pauses for the briefest of moments, “because
you are soon to become my wife.”
The crowd in the large hall falls into murmurs and chattering as they
hear their king’s statement. I can’t believe my ears. The air suddenly
becomes thick with tension. I dart my gaze around me helplessly, showing
my vulnerability to the orc king for the first time.
The other orcs shift uneasily in their seats, exchanging glances with one
another. Some are even muttering to themselves, trying to make sense of
what has just been said. Yet others do not seem to be surprised at all,
exchanging hushed whispers with their neighbors, probably speculating
about their king's motives and what the future might hold.
 The sound of their voices mingles together in an indistinct murmur,
punctuated by occasional bursts of louder conversation. It is as if a hive of
angry bees are being stirred up, and their buzzing fills the air.
King or not, this particular orc must be crazy!
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter

Three

V orgath

M y attention fixes on the exquisite, curvaceous creature standing before

me. She looks tall for a human in comparison to my own massive form, and
I can't help but feel a sense of fascination and intrigue with this woman.
I wonder what really brings her here. Is she looking for her friend like
she said? Or is there something else she is not telling? Her hair is a
cascading mass of shiny black abundance, tumbling down her back in loose
waves. It frames her delicate features in a way that is both alluring and
enticing. As I move around her, I can feel the heat radiating off her body,
and my primal instincts begin to stir.
I circle around her, leisurely taking in every inch of her form. Her neck
is long and graceful, leading down to broad but relaxed and tender
shoulders. Below her narrow waist, her hips curve outwards, drawing my
eyes down to her long, slender legs.
As I continue to examine her, I feel a sense of amusement at her fear
and vulnerability. Humans are such fragile creatures, easily broken and
destroyed.
 But this tall and powerful woman seems different. She radiates strength
and resilience that is unlike anything I have ever seen before. Even from the
way she speaks.
She seems fearless, at least outwardly. Other humans, male or female,
would shiver in the presence of a specimen of my kind. But this one stands
before me with pride and dignity. I am impressed and yearn to know
everything about her.
I narrow my gaze as I observe her delicate figure once more. I have
never seen so much beauty and perfection in a single soul, and it bothers me
slightly. Her body is a work of art, each curve and line perfectly sculpted to
draw the eye and stir the senses. I can feel my desire growing with each
passing moment, my primal urges urging me to take her for my own.
But I must be patient. I must tread carefully around this creature for I
sense a power within her that stuns me. She is more than just a mere human.
She is a force to be reckoned with because she breeds unfamiliar feelings
within me.
Her body seems unexpectedly relaxed, even with me standing so close
to her. She doesn’t tense up as I walk slowly behind her. This is
unprecedented and makes me want to dive deep into the core of this woman
and know what stirs her. What makes her uneasy deep inside.
It is as though we are the only ones in the hall. The only ones that really
matter.
Her gentleness and the softness of her skin draw me in. I want to hold
her close and press her skin against mine. It is a feeling so intense that I’m
beginning to become suspicious of this woman, where she comes from, and
what her intentions really are.
I stop my pacing and stand in front of her again, curiosity getting the
better of me. This beautiful, amusing, and alluring human has awakened
something within me that is wild and untamed. And I am eager to see where
this journey will lead us.
 Besides, she could prove useful and I might just be able to kill two birds
with one stone. My kind has been struck by a strange genetic illness that
affects our health and at times causes untimely death. Children are affected
the most, and our numbers are dwindling.
For some odd reason, I am not affected—although something tells me
that might not be for long. Unless… This woman might be the answer to
my plight and that of my kind.
Our physicians have learned that humans are not familiar with this
illness and they suggest that by mating with one, rather than a female of my
kind, I will break the cycle and breed healthy children. They will possess
the strengths of orcs and humans and in turn pass them down to their own
children.
I turn to everyone in the hall. “Listen carefully, all of you. This woman
is to be my wife, and everyone in this hall and beyond should grant her the
same level of respect and honor given to me. It is my wish and my
command, and so be it. Let the preparations begin.”
I look at the familiar faces in the crowd for a brief moment before I
speak again, “Now, everyone out,” I order.
I wait as my people file out in their familiar packs. I need to have a
moment with this woman. A moment away from all curious eyes.
“And you too,” I say to my unmoving bodyguards. “Out.”
The woman says nothing. She stands still while everyone walks out of
the large hall. After the doors are closed and we are finally alone, I begin to
walk around her again, now out of sheer desire rather than curiosity. As I do
this, I am filled with a deep need that bubbles within me, nonstop. I can't
help but feel drawn to her, compelled by the sheer magnetism of her
presence.
"You are a magnificent creature," I say, my voice low and rumbling. "I
have never seen a human quite like you before."
 She turns to look up at me, her eyes wide with something that looks
more like confusion than fear. But beneath her expression I sense a
simmering energy, a spark of raw longing that matches my own.
"I am not here for your amusement," she says, her voice holding no sign
of trembling or hesitation.
I chuckle softly. "Oh, I think you are, my dear. You are here for
whatever pleasure I choose to give you."
Her eyes blaze with anger, but I do not miss the underlying attraction
she cannot deny.
"You have no power over me," she says huskily.
I take a step closer, purposefully towering over her. "Oh, but I do," I say
softly, brushing her skin with my breath. "I have the power to do whatever I
wish with you."
Her body at last trembles beneath me as she reacts to the proximity
between us, and I can feel the heat radiating off her skin. The sexual tension
between us is palpable, a stark energy that crackles in the air.
"I am confused. I didn’t even know you prior to today," she says, her
tone brimming with a mix of intrigue and uncertainty.
“Pardon my lack of manners,” I say, a little embarrassed by her words. I
was allowing my obsession with her to get the better of me.
“I am Vorgath,” I tell her. “What is your name, little one?”
She rolls her eyes and says nothing. “Is that the best you can do? So
charming,” she says sarcastically. I can feel she is still tense from the
announcement I made earlier about us getting married.
I grin at her, my teeth flashing in the candlelight. "And yet you cannot
deny the pull between us," I say. "You cannot deny the desire that burns
within you."
She looks up at me, her eyes blazing. I can see their color for the first
time—a striking shade of green, so vibrant, with flecks of gold that seem to
dance in the light. Her eyes are like emeralds, sparkling and captivating.
They are expressive and full of depth, revealing a hint of mischief and a
touch of mystery. Her gaze draws me in, and I find myself lost in the beauty
of those green eyes. I can sense her body responding to me, her heart racing
and her breath quickening.
“It appears you are like a king here, but I think you’re out of your mind
to think you can boss me around just like your subjects," she says, her voice
louder now.
She pauses for a moment as I regard her with amusement, “Oh, what
were you expecting? Something like: take me and do what you will with
me?” she mocks, then laughs out loud. “This is not a bodice ripper.”
I want to ask her what she means by that, but I am distracted in enjoying
her laughter a little too much than I should, instantly knowing I’ll want to
hear that sound every day from here on out. Indeed, I wish I could bottle it
and immerse myself in its depths every day when I wake up.
We enter a staring contest, none of us willing to budge. She is a
challenger. That much I know about her so far, even though she hasn’t told
me her name.
“We’ll get there, woman,” I say to her slowly, moving closer to speak
directly into her ears. Her body stiffens at our almost-contact.
And with those words, the sexual tension between us ignites, a fierce
and hungry passion that consumes us both. I can fairly touch the power and
strength that lie within her, energy that teems with pure intensity. And I
know then that together we will be unbeatable, like a flame that can never
be put out.
She is beautiful, I admit to myself for the thousandth time, with her long
black hair and full lips. Her curves are tantalizing, her aura irresistible. It’s
crazy how big of an effect she has on me. No soul has ever achieved that. I
want to know everything about her, starting with the basics.
"What is your name?" I ask her again, my voice commanding this time
around.
 "Dorothy," she responds, a hint of hostility in her tone. She seems to see
and understand the urgency of my question.
"And where do you come from?" I ask, my curiosity piqued.
"Why does it matter to you?" she retorts, sparks flying from her eyes.
I soften my voice. “It matters to me because you are here, in my
kingdom, and I wish to know more about you,” I reply. This time, I’m both
firm and gentle in my communication.
She hesitates for a moment, then begins to speak. I listen intently as she
tells me about her life and how she came to be in my kingdom, reiterating
her story about coming to find her friend. I am intrigued by her tale and my
feelings for her soften as she speaks.
“So there is no deception anywhere,” she concludes. “I have only
climbed up here looking for my friend.”
I nod. “I believe you,” I say to her. “Guess I owe you my own version of
things now.”
“Yes.” She smiles, and my heart squeezes in my chest at the sight. Yet
another thing I want to see more of daily…
I motion to her to sit on a bench and I follow, taking a seat across from
her.
Hesitating at first, yet knowing I must open up, I reveal to her the health
condition in our kingdom that has been weighing heavily on everyone's
mind. I explain the scourge that affects our normally healthy lives and how
the illness is capable of killing some of us, including children. I also tell her
about my immunity so far.
“There’s a reason for that. I found out late in my life that my mother
was human. So, I am half-human, half-orc,” I say. She reacts with a raise of
her eyebrows, as though to confirm her own suspicion. “Apparently,
humans are not affected by this illness so I need a human mate. I have to
make sure my children will be strong and healthy.”
 Amazing how easy it is to confide in this virtual stranger. Yet, even
though I can see the shock and confusion in Dorothy's eyes as I explain to
her the ordeal my kind has been going through, she doesn’t seem to believe
me entirely.
So, I change the subject. “Why are you so attracted to me?” I ask. “And
don’t you attempt to deny it because I can smell your arousal.”
She opens her mouth wide with shock. I know she wasn’t expecting that
from me and I have caught her off-guard. I wait to take in her reaction. Her
beautiful, lush lips round out to a shape that makes my cock stir.
“Woman, your pussy is wet for me. I smell it. I can almost taste it. I do
want to taste it more than anything…” I murmur seductively.
She gapes at me, speechless, yet her eyes are filled with dark desire. I
know she wants me just as I want her, and I cannot wait to claim her as
mine. This union will not only produce children who are immune from the
sickness, but it will also bring us closer as a kingdom.
But Dorothy is struggling with that notion, and she’s unsure of what to
say next.
So I lean in closer…
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter

Four

D orothy

I am shocked by his sudden words. After confiding in me about the illness

besieging his tribe, he drops a bomb like that. He leans forward, too close,
and my cheeks are burning. How can he have this effect on me when I just
met him? It seems as if my body has been learning all year long how to
respond to him.
Impulsively, I push him slightly away. "So the best way to get the girl is
to kidnap her and throw her in a dark, damp dungeon. Who wouldn't want
that?" I scoff at him.
He seems a little taken aback and chastized by my words. A moment of
silence insinuates itself between us, and for the first time the hall feels as
large as it really is.
"I'll get you more appropriate quarters. I apologize for where my men
put you earlier," he says, bowing his head.
He looks positively mortified. I am surprised by his genuine demeanor
and words of praise are dangling from my lips. Yet, I refrain from uttering
them.
 "My men will take you to your room," he adds then, clapping his hands
and spurring us further awkwardness.
His men enter and he whispers orders that are beyond my hearing
capabilities. When he is done, he walks back to me and gives me a short,
curt smile. "Bye for now," he says, "We'll see each other at dinner. Don't be
late."
Soon after, I am led to one of the most breathtaking chambers I have
ever seen. Intricate patterns and designs adorn the walls, seeming to come
alive in the flickering candlelight. The ceiling boasts a stunning mural
depicting a battle between knights and dragons, while the polished marble
floors gleam in the light. The room is spacious yet cozy, with plush rugs
and comfortable furniture thoughtfully placed throughout.
Several female orcs catch my attention as they carefully attend to
household chores. Clad in simple yet elegant dresses made of soft
embroidered fabrics in varying shades of green and brown, they move about
quietly, in fluid and graceful motions despite their size. Their hair is styled
in intricate braids and twists, adorned with ornamental hairpins and combs
made of bone or wood.
Following one of the girls’ instructions, I sit on a plush cushion and am
greeted by a group of female servants dressed in different clothing. They
bow to me and introduce themselves, then one of them says, "We’ve heard
that you are to become the most important woman in our kingdom, so feel
free to ask us anything you want, and we’ll get it for you."
"Thank you. I really appreciate this," I said to them.
Sporting kind smiles, they bowed and departed, leaving me with a
slender, dark-haired maid and three others dressed like her. "I can do most
of these things myself," I began, but the orc woman cut me off.
"Not possible, my lady," she said politely but firmly. "You must not be
seen doing anything of the sort, or we’ll be in trouble."
 It still feels like a dream to me, everything that has happened since the
orc found me near the mountain summit. I haven't had time to process
everything yet, and they are already making plans for me, starting with their
king who says I will marry him. I feel overwhelmed by it all. I still have my
life back home, where Todd remains an issue. I can't forget that and pretend
it isn't all as real as this place.
I find myself riding a rollercoaster of emotions while the young female
orcs are treating me like royalty. But as they said, I might get them in
trouble and that's the last thing I want for these sweet orcs. So I decide to
oblige to their every demand and allow myself to be treated like royalty,
even though I don't feel like one right now.
They draw a bath for me, filling it with warm water and scented oils.
The aroma of lavender and jasmine permeates every part of the room. I
would never have expected this kind of luxury from these huge beings—
never mind the kind gestures and sweet smiles.
The servants gently remove my clothes and guide me into the water,
where the warmth envelops me. They wash my hair and body, and I can't
help but feel a sense of gratitude. They take such care to ensure that I am
comfortable and at ease, even though they do not know who I am. I do not
even look like them. I wonder if their hope of a human ending their illness
is why they are so nice to me. But I decide not to dwell on that and instead,
cherish every moment.
After the bath, they bring me a delicious meal of roasted chicken, fresh
vegetables, and warm bread. The flavors dance on my tongue, and I realize
how hungry I am. The food is of the highest quality, and I feel so pampered.
I allow myself to enjoy this indulgence, too, and at least for a moment, not
worry about what is to come.
As I finish my meal, the women help me into a new gown made of the
softest silk and embroidered with delicate patterns. It feels like a second
skin, so light it’s as if I am floating on air. It's all so surreal, I’m in a literal
fairytale.
The women continue to attend to me, bringing sweet treats and
refreshing beverages. They chat with me and share interesting stories about
their lives. Although their world is unfamiliar to me, I am not bored at all. I
end up forgetting about my life back down the mountain and enjoy the
peace and warmth of this place. It has been a while since I felt this way—
especially with all my problems involving my ex.
Eventually, the other girls leave and I am left with Olga, the slender,
dark-haired maid. She tells me she has been instructed to stay with me in
case I need anything. I ask her if it's true that their tribe has a serious illness,
and her features soften before turning hard, as if I have touched on a painful
subject. She confirms that the illness has taken the lives of many in their
clan, including her father and brother. Vorgath had therefore told me the
truth earlier about their situation, and my heart aches for these creatures.
Olga adds that the king needs to do something before other clans on Mount
Moorhead become a threat upon learning of the orcs’ weakness.
Despite my empathy for these creatures, I know I must proceed with my
plan of escape. Lost in thought, I only notice another presence in the room
when she starts to speak. I look toward the door to see a maid standing
there, who’s informing me I must attend a dinner with Vorgath and his three
younger brothers, who are waiting for me.
The thought of facing Vorgath and his siblings fills me with something
close to dread, but I cannot refuse. I follow Olga to the dining hall, where
all eyes are on me as soon as I enter. Vorgath introduces his brothers—
Grimgar, Grommash, and Throgg—who are all big, burly orcs with rough
features and warm eyes. They offer friendly greetings, then I take my seat at
the table.
As soon as the meal begins, the brothers start teasing Vorgath about me,
and I can tell it's driving him crazy.
 “It seems you have found your pretty human,” Grommash says, sipping
what I think should be wine from a cup.
The other brothers break into laughter. To me, they're like a pack of
wolves circling their prey, and I'm the one caught in the middle. They make
jokes about Vorgath suddenly being in love with me. The orc king says
nothing apart from making occasional movements of his lips that could
count as smiles.
My cheeks burn whenever they say anything about him and me and I try
to laugh it off, but it only fuels their teasing. This is so odd. We are all
strangers here, yet we act like we know each other. I do not miss the tension
building in Vorgath's eyes, and I somehow feel guilty for causing him
distress.
But as the meal goes on, I start to see the brothers in a different light.
They're not just ruthless monsters—they're also loyal and protective of each
other. They joke about everything, from their hunts to the events that
happen in court, and even food.
“What do you think about this place?” Grimgar asks. He seems like the
eldest of Vorgath’s brothers. He sports a rather cool demeanor that is
seemingly absent in the younger ones, more akin to Vorgath’s.
I am a little late in realizing he is addressing me, so I hesitate for a
moment before I speak. “It’s nice,” I say.
“Did it meet your expectations?” he asks further.
“I’m not sure I had any expectations in the first place, considering I
wasn’t planning on showing up here from the start,” I answer.
The other brothers release an “Ooh!” Then they proceed to laugh like
kids. Grimgar joins them and even Vorgath gives a proper chuckle this
time.
They all seem happy and content with their lives, despite the grave
problems plaguing their kind. From the past half-hour I have spent with
them, I can tell that Vorgath is different from his brothers. In this sense, they
are much like humans.
Vorgath is quieter and more reserved, and there's a sadness in his eyes
that breaks my heart.
After a while, Vorgath excuses himself and leaves me alone with his
brothers. Initially, I think he did it intentionally so they can bully me to their
heart’s content—but I'm wrong, for as soon as he leaves, his brothers stop
their light banter and start telling me stories about Vorgath's childhood.
They talk about how he always wanted to be the strongest and best and had
to fight to become king after their parents abandoned them. He had to prove
himself by fighting other contenders for the throne.
“He was very brave,” Grimgar says, “and we all can only dream of
doing what he did for us and for the kingdom.”
As I listen to their stories, I start to see Vorgath in a different light. He's
not just a monster—he's a survivor. He's had to fight for everything he's
ever had, and I can't help but feel a sense of respect for him.
The brothers start teasing me again but this time, I don't feel as
embarrassed. I banter back with them, and we all start laughing together.
For the first time since I arrived on Mount Moorhead, I feel like I belong in
some strange manner.
“You know,” Throgg says, his face looking more serious than I thought
he was capable of given that he was the youngest and the silliest, “Vorgath
has been looking for a mate for a long time and he is lonely, but too proud
to admit it. I can see that you make him happy.”
I am speechless. How on earth am I supposed to react to that? That I
don’t believe in ‘fated mates’ as they say in romance novels? I refrain from
responding as I make a big deal about sipping from a cup of water.
Grimgar must be sensing my unease because he quickly changes the
topic.
 “You haven't eaten much since you got here. Don't you like the food?”
he asks politely.
“No,” I say quickly, with a smile that I find instantly embarrassing, “It's
not that. I was offered enough food by the girls before I came here.”
The brothers share a look and break into laughter. I'm not sure why they
find that so funny.
“Humans don't eat like we do, brothers,” Grimgar says. “We shouldn't
be rude about that.”
I finally get the joke and smile awkwardly.
After dinner, I return to my room and lie down on the bed to recount the
events of the past twenty-four hours. As the night draws to a close, I'm left
feeling conflicted. I still want to escape this place, but at the same time I
can't deny the growing attraction I feel for Vorgath. The curiosity about
these people and empathy for their situation.
It's like I'm caught in a trap, and no matter how hard I try, I can't escape
—at least in my own head.
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter

Five

V orgath

A s I sit on my throne in the large hall, waiting for Dorothy to be presented

to my court as my bride-to-be, my mind races with anticipation. I feel like a
young boy again. I have been waiting for this moment for an eternity.
My eyes scan the room, taking in the sights and sounds of the many orcs
who have come to witness this momentous occasion. Prior to today, I have
extended invitations to many dignitaries within the kingdom. I wanted them
all to come and see the human I have just found. She is to be admired, even
by me. I need to make more effort with wooing her, getting her to trust and
love me, even if this is not considered necessary.
When they all see how beautiful she is, I will be filled with pride. Also,
I want to offer hope to my people. Maybe for a moment they could all
forget about this devastating illness that is causing so many deaths in
Moorhead. Now I wish I had invited more guests from neighboring
kingdoms, but my brothers said we need to tread with care for our enemies
are real and ready for our downfall.
The court is filled with orcs, all adorned in their best clothing. Some
wear armor—the ones who believe they should be perennially ready for
battle. Who could blame them after everything they have gone through and
all the wars they have fought for the sake of this kingdom?
The atmosphere is electric with excitement, and I can sense that
everyone is eager to see what my future bride will look like.
Suddenly, the doors open and a group of maids enter, leading Dorothy
by the hand. My breath catches in my throat as I lay my eyes on her. She
looks stunning in the ornate medieval-style gown I had ordered to be made
for her, fit for the royalty she now is. The dress is adorned with intricate
embroidery and sparkling jewels, just like I wanted it.
The maids carefully place a small, shiny crown on her head, perfectly
matching the adornments on her hair, and I can see the admiration and awe
on the faces of my guests. She looks every inch the queen, which draws a
surge of pride and possessiveness—a feeling so alien to me.
As Dorothy sits on the smaller throne beside mine, I can't help but stare
at her. Surely, I must be the luckiest orc in the world. "You look beautiful," I
tell her, and she offers a gentle smile.
The performances begin, starting with a group of young girls who
perform a short dance. Their movements are graceful and fluid, and I have
to say I am impressed by their talent. It seems as if Dorothy's presence has
sent a ripple across the kingdom, just this fast, and everyone is affected. I
am not sure she’s convinced this is her destiny as everything has happened
with whirlwind speed, but I will do all I can to keep her happy and satisfied.
My people deserve it.
Dorothy watches the children’s performance with interest and
fascination. This world is different from hers, but she will get used to it, I
am certain, but I have to give her time to adjust.
Next up is a friendly sword fight between two giant orcs. Everyone
except Dorothy is aware that despite the friendly nature of the event, the
men will fight as if their life depends on it because honor is at stake.
Swordsmanship is an integral part of our culture. A warrior orc is
distinguished by the number of battles they have won and losing a
ceremonial fight is no less dishonorable.
The men take turns attacking and defending, and the crowd cheers them
on. As we watch, I can feel Dorothy's eyes on me, and I know she is
studying my reactions to the fight. Maybe she wants to know which of them
I am supporting. But as the king, I can support none other but the better
man who will eventually emerge victorious.
The orcs are expert warriors and both seem hell-bent on winning the
contest in the presence of so many other people from the kingdom—and
especially, Dorothy.
Their broadswords glint in the hall’s bright lighting, the metal polished
to a mirror shine. They each wield their weapon with ease, as if it is a mere
extension of their massive arms. I can tell from the looks on the faces of the
other orcs that this is no mere ceremonial contest. They both look fierce and
focused. It makes me remember when I was just a young boy with a sword.
I would jump at every opportunity to show my skills with the blade.
These men feint and dodge with incredible speed, their movements fluid
and precise. They continue to trade blows, each trying to find an opening in
the other's defense. They move agilely, darting in and out of range and
striking with quick, precise thrusts. No matter the outcome, I will make sure
these men both get a well-deserved prize for their performance.
The crowd cheers as one lands a hit, his blade grazing the opponent’s
arm. Blood drips from the wound, but the orc barely seems to notice. He
charges forward again, determined to end the fight. But the other orc is
ready, ducking underneath and slicing upward, catching him in the chest but
not penetrating. The orc staggers backward, his sword clattering to the
ground as he falls.
The orc still standing raises his weapon in victory, and the crowd erupts
in cheers. He offers a hand to the fallen orc, helping him to his feet. They
then share an embrace, the fight seemingly forgotten as they share a
moment of camaraderie.
Dorothy stands to her feet and applauds the lads—a sight I never
thought I would witness.
"You seem to be enjoying yourself with the contest," I say to her as she
sits back down.
"I'm as surprised as you are," she says. "But it was outstanding. It’s
great that they’re not here to kill each other.” Her grin brightens up the
room.
I love that she doesn't hesitate to say exactly what she feels. This is one
of the numerous things I am learning to like about her. Unlike the women in
my kingdom who try to be too modest and reserved, Dorothy doesn't hold
back.
Another group of colorfully-dressed orcs troops in, male and female
moving swiftly toward the center of the hall, where a band stage has been
quickly set up. The sounds of drums and string instruments ensue. The acrid
scent of smoke fills my nostrils, and the haze drifts becomingly in the dim
light. The crowd is raucous and wild, a sea of green and brown-skinned orcs
all packed tightly together, swaying to the music.
On the stage, the women are wearing tight, leather pants and metal-
studded bras, while the men are shirtless and adorned with tattoos and
piercings. Their hair is long and wild, and they wear intricate bone jewelry
around their necks and wrists.
The music they play is unlike anything I know Dorothy has ever heard
before. It is classic orc music, a primal and intense sound that fills the air
with energy. The female lead singer’s voice is powerful and raspy, full of
raw emotion that seems to come from deep within her. The male backup
vocalists add to the ferocity of the performance with their guttural chants.
I steal another look at Dorothy who seems to be fascinated by the view
and definitely the sound. I see no hint of disgust on her face, just mere
interest in this type of music that she is not familiar with.
As the song reaches its climax, the female lead singer leaps from the
stage and starts to dance amongst the crowd. Her body is a blur of
movement as she writhes and gyrates to the music, and the crowd goes
wild, cheering and reaching out to touch her.
The male orcs on stage are equally mesmerizing, their bodies moving in
perfect synchronicity as they play their instruments. The energy is electric.
The song comes to an end and the female lead singer returns to the
stage, her chest heaving with exertion. She turns to the crowd and raises her
arms, then everyone erupts into a frenzy of applause and cheers.
Dorothy is pleased yet also showing another emotion. Perhaps nerves
are getting the better of her now. I wonder if she really knows what she’s
getting into. Have I rushed things too much, fearing I’d lose her if I didn’t?
I admit that the thought concerns me. I always thought there’ll be time to
get her to come around. But maybe I am tackling this wrong.
Well, too late now… Everything today was organized in her honor. It’s
all for her. Surely, she’d realize? Sometimes I like to imagine humans see
things just the way we do—but this may be just a fantasy.
After the performances are over, food is served and solemn music
continues to be played as the crowd eats and drinks the day away.
"You look amazing," I tell Dorothy, trying to keep my doubts in check.
"I couldn't take my eyes off you throughout all the performances."
I’m not one to know my way so smoothly around women, but Dorothy
brings out something new in me. Something unfamiliar.
She blushes and although she won’t say, she is flattered by my
compliments. "Thank you, Vorgath. And thank you too for the dress. I was
told you had it made specifically for me."
"It's nothing more than you deserve. And I like more than just your
dress," I reply, unable to resist the admission. "You look like a queen."
 Dorothy laughs, and a warmth spreads through my chest. Maybe this
whole event will encourage her to move forward in our relationship, to
accept me as her mate. From what she told me, it seems she has nowhere to
go back to, especially seeing the way she came to me bruised and beaten.
My world must offer her better circumstances.
I have made arrangements for us to go on a trip on one of my royal
carriages after the event. Just the two of us. I want to show her some parts
of my kingdom.
"Do you want to sneak away somewhere?" I ask her at last.
"If I'm not being too forward, I think it is right to assume that this is all
because of me." She spreads her arms out, gesturing toward the hall.
"You're not being too forward. And you're right, it's all for you," I say to
her.
"Then, I think it will be rude of me to leave without seeing the end of
it."
"You're about to be their queen. You do not need to wait to see the end.
Besides, we're sneaking away, remember?"
Even though we both know there's no sneaking, she indulges me.
"You're not going to listen, are you?" she says, then pauses for a
moment before continuing, "If you assure me that we're going to sneak
away, as you say, then let's do it."
I grab her hand and we leave the hall, every eye on us as we approach
the door. The sudden skin-on-skin contact sends a jolt of arousal through
my body.
"Hardly a secret disappearance, was it?" she says as we step outside the
castle.
"It depends on how you see it," I murmur.
A loud and hearty laugh comes out of her.
The carriage is already waiting outside for us. I help her get inside and I
follow after her.
 "What are these creatures carrying us?" she asks as we move on.
"They are called drakhens. They are one of the most ancient creatures
on the mountain. Many believe them to be magical and in some of the
neighboring kingdoms they are even regarded as gods."
"Interesting," she says with a smile.
In the royal carriage, we watch the vast and sprawling landscape of my
kingdom pass us by. She seems impressed.
"Is this also part of your kingdom?" she asks, turning to me with a
curious expression.
"Yes, it is. Though we may not be as large as other kingdoms, we make
up for it with our resources and our loyal subjects."
Dorothy nods in understanding. "It's beautiful, Vorgath. I never knew
such a place existed."
As the carriage continues its journey, I point out different areas of the
kingdom, explaining their significance and how they contribute to our way
of life. We pass through the mining district, where our workers mine
precious minerals and ores, and the farming district, where we grow crops
and raise livestock.
The training grounds come next, where our warriors hone their skills in
battle. A strong military is required as a defense against any threats.
Dorothy listens without interrupting, occasionally asking questions that
make me ponder my own views.
As we near the edge of the kingdom, we stop by a small village. The
villagers come out to greet us, bowing and showing their respect. Dorothy
seems taken aback by their hospitality and kindness.
"Everyone seems so welcoming," she says with relish.
I chuckle. "That's because they know who I am. To them, I am their
king and protector, and you are a woman who's with me."
She smiles and I melt. There's something about her that makes me want
to open up and share everything with her. This feeling excites but also
terrifies me.
As we walk through the winding paths of the orc mountain kingdom, we
come to a serene area filled with an array of beautiful flowers and plants.
This is exactly what I want her to see—the main reason for this trip and also
one of my favorite places in the kingdom.
The area is so secluded and peaceful, I can hear the crisp rustling of
leaves in the cool breeze that sweeps through. The flowers are in full
bloom, their vibrant colors adding a pop of beauty to the already stunning
landscape. Clusters of yellow and orange flowers sway gently in the breeze,
a symphony of color and motion. Dorothy is silent as she leans in closer to
admire their beauty, feeling the soft petals brush against her fingertips.
Moving farther in, I show her the tall, slender stems of white flowers we
call pearleas, standing proud and regal, their fragrance sweet and
intoxicating. The flowers seem to glow in the dappled sunlight, casting a
warm glow over the surrounding foliage.
She turns to speak to me, "This is the most beautiful place I have ever
seen, Vorgath. Thank you for bringing me here." I hear the genuine
appreciation in her tone.
She pauses for a moment, taking in the sheer magnificence of it all. She
settles her gaze on patches of purple and blue then pink and flowers, so
vibrant and bold in contrast to the tranquil surroundings.
"The orc mountain kingdom may be wild and untamed, but there is so
much beauty to be found at its heart. I thought you’d appreciate that." I
swallow hard, hoping she wouldn’t think me too silly for waxing lyrical
about Moorhead.
"It's so beautiful, I have no words," she says in awe.
I wonder if she’d actually live in a place like this? Would she miss her
home?
Eventually, the sun begins to set and we make our way back to the
castle. The drakhens pull the carriage up the winding path, their muscles
bulging with each step. Dorothy looks out the window, watching that part of
the kingdom disappear behind us.
At last, we arrive at the castle gates.
"Thank you for accompanying me on this journey. It was a pleasure to
show you around."
She smiles but says nothing. A fleeting emotion crosses her expression.
What is it? Joy? Confusion? Concern?
“I loved meeting the people," she finally says.
I sense she wants to soften toward me but keeps holding back. Maybe
she is shy, but I doubt that.
The sight of her lush lips distracts me. I want to devour them, kiss and
claim them.
"You never told me about your black eye," I say after clearing my
throat. Her eyes gloss over as she looks up at me. It takes her forever to
respond but at last, words tumble from her lips.
"I was in a marriage that ended in a very bad way. My ex-husband was
abusive and controlling,” she explains slowly, her gaze averted. Her tone is
bitter. I clench my fists, resisting the urge to smash them into something.
"Short story: he saw me going out with someone else after our divorce and
beat me up in reaction to that."
I grunt as fury takes over. No man, orc, or other beast should ever put
his hands on a woman. All I want is to race down the mountain, track him
down, and rip him to pieces. He’d scream with pain and beg me to spare
him. I do know one thing now: that pathetic human has never deserved her.
We walk together inside the castle while a storm rages within me. I am
about to tell her how ungrateful and foolish her ex-husband was before we
part ways to freshen up for dinner when we hear loud moans coming from
one of the rooms.
We freeze in our tracks, our eyes locked on the door in question. Unable
to contain my curiosity, I lunge and fling it wide open. In a moment of
shock and awe, we witness Throgg on his back with a chambermaid riding
him fast and hard. Their seductive sounds fill the room and make me
instantly hard.
I stand frozen in the moment, watching the couple's intimate exchange.
Then, I stare at Dorothy. A spark of fire surges through me, and all I want is
to sink my cock in her.
I move behind her, pressing my hard, ready length against her back as I
wrap my arms around her waist.
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter

Six

D orothy

M y jaw drops as I stare at the chambermaid who’s riding Throgg's cock

with exhilarating passion. She doesn’t even slow down when we burst in,
lost as she is in the throes of pleasure. Her enormous breasts bounce as she
squeezes them.
I swallow hard, wanting to look away, but I am mesmerized by this
rather violent fucking that both seem to enjoy tremendously. The room
radiates sheer sexual intensity which sends heat rising from the pit of my
stomach. My throat goes dry, and I am suddenly aroused and needy. I
glance at Vorgath who has moved to my side. His expression is blank, as
though it is nothing out of the norm for him.
As I watch them, I struggle to hold back my raw lust. I squeeze my
thighs together, trying to breathe at the same time. My heart skips a beat as I
witness the sheer size of Throgg, the way his massive cock is filling her to
the brim, and her expression of ecstasy. The sounds of their moans and
screams mix together, creating a symphony of pleasure.
They both do not seem bothered as they change positions, panting
loudly. The maid is up against the wall now, her legs wrapped around his
waist as he thrusts into her with a primal fervor.
Their lips are locked in a passionate kiss, and I can't help but feel a
twinge of envy at the sight. Throgg's massive hands grip her hips, pulling
her closer to him with each thrust. His tongue darts in and out of her mouth,
exploring every inch of her.
The maid's fingers twist and curl over his muscles, her nails drawing
blood as she cries out in pleasure. Her eyes flutter shut with every thrust,
her face now twisted in a wild mien. Her breasts quiver with each
movement, as if they too are part of the dance.
I can't believe what I'm seeing, yet I find myself unable to turn away. It's
like watching a trainwreck—horrifying yet captivating at the same time.
As Throgg pulls away from the maid's lips, I catch a glimpse of his
sharp fangs glistening in the dim light. He growls with pleasure, his eyes
locking onto mine for a split second before he returns to kissing the maid.
Suddenly, I feel movement behind me, Vorgath’s chest is touching my
back, and his arousal presses against me there. My body yearns for his
touch but I am scared—scared of what he would do to me, scared of what I
might want him to do to me.
This monster, the Orc King, is a stranger and I shouldn’t want him to rip
my clothes off and take me here and now. The tension is palpable as I listen
to his rapid breathing and fantasize about him ramming his shaft into me.
Panicking, I pull away and run out of the room, wanting to be alone
with all these inappropriate thoughts. I am so turned on, my panties are
soaked through and I can’t believe my body is reacting this way.
I sprint through the hallway, my heart pounding against my ribcage. I
imagine Vorgath's strong arms wrapped around me, enveloping me in a
blanket of pure pleasure and desire as he pounds his erection into me—hard
and fast. My mind races with forbidden thoughts as heat spreads across my
body and I know that if I let myself go to this temptation, I'm risking more
than just my life—I'm risking sanity itself. With this thought in mind, I keep
moving, determined to escape and break free from the deadly embrace of
the castle.
I arrive at my chamber then tell the maids to leave before tearing my
clothes off my body. I am so hot and turned on that I can’t bear to have a
stitch of clothing on me.
I lie down on my bed and start running my hand over my soaking slit,
then rub around my clit, feeling the heat and imagining Vorgath’s mouth on
my throbbing pussy.
I’m still reeling from the sight of Throgg and the maid having that
intense sex. My body is on fire, my skin prickling with the heat of my own
desire as I continue to rub on my clit while an orgasm rises slowly within
me. I can't believe what I just saw. The image of Throgg's massive cock is
seared into my mind but on the body of his brother, Vorgath. The fantasy is
driving me insane. This has never happened before, not even when I started
dating Todd.
Vorgath enters my room and I'm filled with a sensation I can barely
comprehend. His hands move over me, exploring every inch of my body
with an unfamiliar hunger and yearning. His probing tongue slides between
my legs and finds my soaking slit. I grip his hair tightly as he feasts on my
pussy, licking from my clit to my butt, and I melt into a blissful pool
beneath him.
I close my eyes and let my hands roam over my body, exploring every
inch of my skin. I'm so turned on that I can't even think straight, my mind
consumed by the need for release. My fingers continue to fold and circle
my aching clit. The sensation is electric, sending waves of pleasure through
my entire body.
My hips rock back and forth with wild abandon as my fingers work
their magic. I am lost in a fog of sheer delight, my mind so overwhelmed by
pleasure that it loses every sense of reality.
 As I get closer and closer to the edge, I can feel my muscles tensing, my
toes curling. The pressure inside me is mounting, and I know I'm about to
come all over my own fingers, wishing so much to replace them with
Vorgath’s mouth. I imagine his mouth smeared with my juices, a sensual
look on his face.
An animalistic scream rips from my throat, reverberating off the walls
as I am propelled higher and higher in bliss. My skin is on fire and sweat
coats my body. The apex of ecstasy finally hits me like a tidal wave, leaving
me trembling and breathless beyond belief.
For a few moments, I'm drifting in a state of pure bliss, my body still
pulsing with pleasure. But as the sensations begin to subside, I'm left
feeling more empty and alone than ever.
I know that I shouldn't be doing this, that it's wrong to indulge in these
feelings for Vorgath. But I can't help myself. The pleasure is just too
intense, and the need to feel that release is too strong to resist.
With a heavy heart, I remain on the bed, exhausted. I need to put these
feelings aside and focus on my current situation, as well as the orcs’
predicament, but for now I pull the sheets over my naked body.
Then I hear the door creak open and my breath catches in my throat
because I realize I haven’t shut it properly earlier on when I stormed into
my chamber. I gulp audibly as terror seizes my body. I turn to find Vorgath
standing in the entrance, his eyes burning through me like hot coals. The
intensity of his stare leaves me paralyzed, unable to move or think until he
finally looks away.
Suddenly, he is in the room with me. "Do that again," he says, his voice
low and commanding. "I want to watch you make yourself come again."
Still reeling from my orgasm, I feel vulnerable and exposed. I pull the
sheet tighter around me as if to protect myself from him. From the
awareness of the sticky wetness between my thighs and the thought of how
much I want his mouth on my pussy.
 "Do it," he says, his voice low and commanding.
My face is flushed and I can’t believe he saw me do all that.
Desire mingles with fear as I climb out of bed and put more distance
between us, taking the sheets with me. I have no doubt I will not be able to
hold myself back if he makes his move. He walks toward me.
"I think you shouldn’t come any closer," I say, but my brain screams for
him to do the complete opposite.
He ignores my words and pulls me roughly into his arms. His lips crash
onto mine, as hard and urgent as his hands exploring my body. The sheets
are the only thing separating while he ravages me with his tongue. I moan
into his mouth.
I melt into his embrace, a blazing fire enveloping us. He holds me tight,
as his hard erection pressing against me. I want him, need him, and I can
feel his desire for me in every touch. As we kiss, the sheet slips off my
body, leaving me completely exposed to him. My nipples are hard and my
cum rolls down my inner thigh … because I am still so wet for him.
He takes a step back to take in my nakedness. Then I quickly remember
the horrific scars on my body, the lingering evidence of Todd’s abuse. I
quickly move my hands to cover my stomach, embarrassed and humiliated.
I don’t want him to see me like this.
He narrows his gaze and moves closer, but I refuse to look at him.
“Move that hand, little one. You don’t do that here. Not with your king,”
he growls. I shake my head quickly when he touches me. Tears force their
way out of my eyes. "You are so beautiful."
His voice is full of longing and I finally obey him, swallowing hard.
My heart races when scorching heat cascades through my veins and I
can sense the raw desire emanating from his eyes. His gaze is feral, hungry,
devouring me with passionate intensity. He is right, I don’t need to be afraid
and he is not Todd.
 I know he can sense what is going on between us, the unexplained pull
and desire that keeps brewing whenever he is near. But then, before
anything more can happen, he pulls away from me.
“Expect me tonight after dinner. Wait for me here, in bed, naked. You
will not deny me what’s mine. In the walls of this chamber you’re my
plaything, but amongst my people you’re my Queen.” With that, he leaves
in a hurry.
Finally, I release a ragged breath. I am left standing there, confused and
a little anxious. Part of me wants to call out to him, to beg him to stay and
continue what we started because I want his hands on exploring every inch
of my heated flesh, his teeth grazing my hardened nipples and his cock
nudging my soaked entrance. But another part of me feels relieved that he
left, not ready for what might have happened next.
I force myself to go back to the bed while a tempest of conflicting
emotions courses through my veins. His touch lingers on my skin as if it
was branded onto me and his passionate kisses leave me wanting for more.
But a thought tugs at the edge of my consciousness—the sense that
there is so much more to this story than what I am seeing now, and I'm
afraid of facing the truth that awaits ahead.
His words ring in my ear once more: “Expect me tonight…”
I become wet again. Soaked through and through.
What have I gotten myself into?
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter

Seven

V orgath

T he moon will be out tonight—a perfect setup to visit Dorothy in her

chamber to finally claim her as mine. While I watched her touching herself
earlier, it was the hardest thing to force myself to stay put and not invade
her privacy.
But not tonight.
Since the brief encounter we had in her room, I have not been able to
take my mind off her. The powerful longing for her overwhelms me as I
exist in my royal duties.
The memory of her smooth, bright skin, begging me to leave my teeth
marks on every inch, lingers in my every thought. Her curves are perfect,
her hips perfectly round for my hands to grip and squeeze. Even when she
is not near, I can feel the heat of her soft breasts pressing over my chest and
her shapely buttocks beneath the sheets, waiting for me to ruin them as I
thrust my cock inside her, claiming her ass and pussy at the same time.
During the council meeting I had today, Dorothy was the only thing on
my mind and I was hard like a rock. I know some of the council members
must be wondering why I was so distracted. Maybe a few would have
guessed the reason. After all, they have seen the human woman I am about
to take as my bride.
I have no experience in matters of the flesh yet when I see Dorothy,
none of that matters. I know what to do to please both of us. I’ve been
waiting for this my whole life.
I sit on a large chair on my balcony, overlooking the sprawling
mountains and lush forests that surround my castle. Made of sturdy stone, it
is adorned with intricate carvings that tell the story of our great kingdom.
This is one of my favorite spots in the kingdom. On days like this, when I
am so gladdened and excited, the balcony becomes even more special and
pleasant to be in.
Around me are Grukka, Krogla, and Rulga, three maids who’ve been at
the castle for years, as well as two guards. The female orcs are busy
attending to my every need, bringing me food and drink whenever I ask for
them. It is our tradition that the king must always have people around him
unless he demands otherwise.
The bodyguards are vigilant, scanning the horizon for any signs of
danger. I can protect myself, but it is their job to give their lives for me if
necessary. They are loyal and I count them among my friends.
I take time to know my attendants and subjects well for this is the best
way to lead. And I am truly concerned about my people. I know everything
about those who work for me in the castle because they matter to me.
The sun is setting over the mountains now, casting a warm glow across
the sky. The air is cool and crisp, and a gentle breeze blows against my
skin. The room behind us is dimly lit, with candles flickering in the
shadows.
Rulga approaches me with a goblet of wine. "My king," she says,
bowing her head. "May I offer you another drink?"
I take the goblet from her, offering a nod in thanks. I take a sip of the
rich, full-bodied vintage. She smiles as I hum in approval. I am reminded of
a time long ago when I saved Rulga from being raped by our enemies
during a battle, where we were outnumbered and outmatched.
Rulga had been captured and the enemy soldiers were about to have
their way with her. I remember charging into the fray, my ax held high, and
fighting them with all my might. Rulga had been badly injured, but I had
carried her back to safety. In return, she gives me loyalty and dedication.
I return my attention to the sunset. The sky looks so majestic in hues of
orange, pink, and purple. The birds are flying overhead, their wings beating
against the wind. And not far from me, in my castle, is a woman who makes
my skin tingle, my heart beat fast, and my cock harder than the rock of
Moorhead Mountain.
And what’s more, she responds to my touch. The thought of her body,
her curves, and her scent makes my pulse quicken. She is a vision of beauty,
perfect in every way.
I remember her naked, on her bed, and my mouth goes dry. Her breasts
are round and full, with pink nipples that beg to be touched and sucked. I
cannot wait to take them in my hands, feel their weight and warmth as I run
my tongue over them, making the tips harden. She will moan so loud as I
pleasure her.
And her buttocks… oh, her buttocks. From what I could see they are
firm and round, with just enough meat on them to make them a delight to
grab onto. To bury my face in the soft flesh, taking in her sweet scent as I
bite and nibble on her sensitive spots … that will be bliss. I am getting hard
again just thinking about it.
She is waiting for me right now, perhaps pretending that I don’t affect
her, but I can smell her arousal from here and that alone drives me crazy
with need. This never happened to me before and I’ve been with plenty of
orc women.
This makes it all the more interesting for me. I have to admit, she has a
way of making me eager for more. Maybe it's the way she talks, or the way
she carries her elegant body, or something else entirely. But what I do know
for sure right now is that I can't wait to see her, to feel her skin against
mine, to taste her on my lips. The thought of what we will do tonight gets
me going, and I have to stop myself from barging into her room and
claiming her as mine too fast.
As I leave the balcony and make my way to the room to get ready for
the night, my heart thumps in anticipation, in sync with the stomping of my
boots on the stone floor.
The three maids giggle and whisper amongst each other as they watch
me brighten up, so full of excitement.
Suddenly, one of my servants rushes into my room without knocking,
his breaths heavy and eyes wide with fear. "My lord!" he cries. "We are
under attack by enemy forces!"
I stop in my tracks as the servant's mouth continues to move, but all I
hear is white noise. My vision reddens at the edges, and my breathing
becomes shallow. My fangs extend instinctually as my anger takes over.
Who dares? Who dares to threaten my kingdom and its innocent people?
As I turn to leave, I catch a glimpse of myself in a gilded mirror on the
wall—a large figure draped in fine silk and linens with eyes that burn with
rage. It's almost too much to bear.
Almost.
But then again, my enemies should be afraid.
After I shout, “Get everybody ready!” I rush down to my weapons room
to put on my armor. The metal clanks with each step I take in the chamber.
The air smells of oil and smoke from the torches that flicker on the walls,
highlighting the glinting blades of swords, axes, hammers and spears
hanging there. I grab my trusty sword, the one I used to best my last
challenger for the throne, and run into the melee of battle.
My brothers, Grimgar, Grommash, and Throgg, are already prepared,
their weapons at the ready.
 We glare at each other, our faces hard, then assess the situation from our
vantage point. The invaders have broken through security and we now hear
the sound of metal clanging as swords clash, and cries of agony from
wounded warriors. Our forces seemed to be struggling more than usual in
an attempt to repel the enemy's advances.
We enter the fray, and immediately I lop off an enemy head.
"Vorgath!" Grimgar shouts above the noise. "They've taken the east
wing, and we've lost a dozen men already!"
"How many are they?" I shout back.
"At least two hundred, by our count," Grommash says, his face a mask
of fury. "They've occupied the stables and are going for the armory. They
must have had their people here. Someone betrayed us and let them in!"
I nod, taking in the information. He is right, our defenses are strong and
this wouldn’t have happened if someone hadn’t betrayed us. "We'll push
them back," I say, my voice cold and determined. "We'll show them what it
means to mess with us and the people of our kingdom."
We charged forward, steel clashing against steel. I swing my sword with
all my might, slicing through the opposing forces. My brothers are at my
side, their blades joining mine in a flurry of sparks and blood. Our
movements are perfectly timed, as though we have rehearsed it a thousand
times before—we’re an unstoppable force working together to bring death
and destruction upon our enemies.
"For our people!" I scream and my men yell as they swing their swords
with pride and dignity. I know they will not relent until we have our land
back under our control.
The scene quickly becomes chaotic and violent, with bodies and blood
strewn everywhere. But I keep my eyes on the prize, the one thing that
matters more than anything else. Dorothy. I have to reach her chamber and
protect her at all costs.
 My inner thoughts are a blur, a constant stream of prayers and curses as
I fight my way toward her. I don't know how much time has passed, but it
feels like an eternity as I cut a swath through the troop of soldiers that have
breached the castle gates.
The clang of steel rings in my ears. My brothers remain close, slashing
and parrying alongside me. The air reeks with the coppery smell of blood
and death. Corpses litter the ground, their faces twisted in a permanent
mask of terror. We keep fighting until we cut our way through to the other
side.
The enemy is relentless, and they fight with a ferocity I've never seen
before. They're well-trained, well-armed, and they outnumber us. But we
are stronger, and we will not be defeated.
"Brothers! Hold on!" I shout. They grunt their assent and follow my
lead.
I lunge forward, my sword slicing through the air with a metallic
whistle. When it connects with the enemy's shield, sparks fly like flashing
fireworks in the night sky. I twist to the side and launch a swift kick toward
his midsection. He responds with an oof as he stumbles back, off-balance.
Without hesitation, I swing again, my sword plunging into his chest with a
sickening thud. His eyes widen in shock before he falls to the ground with a
heavy thump, never to move again.
My brothers fight with equal skill and ferocity. Grimgar wields a
massive battle ax that cleaves through enemy armor as though it's made of
paper.
Grommash is a master of the spear, and he uses it to keep the enemy at
bay, striking out with quick, deadly thrusts. Throgg is a berserker, and he
fights with reckless abandon, his massive hammer crushing skulls and
breaking bones.
The enemy is everywhere though, and they seem to be coming from all
directions. I dodge a sword swing, then duck under a shield bash. I see an
opening and I take it, plunging my sword into an enemy soldier's chest. He
falls and I pull my sword free, ready for the next one.
"Take that!" I yell.
My brothers are fighting just as hard. Grimgar is shouting war cries, his
ax a blur as it strikes down enemy after enemy.
"Die and never dare to raise your sword again!" he says.
Grommash is cool and calculating, his spear finding gaps in the enemy's
defenses. Throgg is a whirlwind of destruction, his hammer smashing
everything in its path.
I see a soldier charging toward me, his sword raised high. I meet him
head-on, our swords clashing in a shower of sparks. We're evenly matched,
and we trade blow for blow.
But I'm faster and manage to land a glancing blow to his side. He grunts
in pain, so I use that opening to strike again, this time connecting with his
neck. Blood sprays from the wound and he falls to the ground, dead.
But there are still more orcs floating around the castle walls. They keep
coming, wave after wave, and it seems like we're fighting an endless battle.
But we don't give up. We don't back down.
I fight with all my strength, all my skill, and all my rage. I am the king
and will not be defeated. I won’t let my men down. I defy every sensation
of tiredness or fatigue, my sword singing as it finds its mark again and
again. My soldiers are fighting valiantly, some losing their lives as heroes,
but we keep going.
An eternity later, the last enemy within the castle halls falls to the
ground, dead. The place is quiet, except for the sound of our breathing and
the occasional moan of the wounded.
I look around to see the bodies of the fallen, both ours and theirs. It's a
grisly sight, but also a reminder of what we're fighting for. Our home, our
people, and our loved ones.
 I turn to my brothers to witness the sheer exhaustion on their faces,
along with determination, fire, and pride. We've just won a small battle on
this side of the field, but it isn’t over judging by the sound of clattering in
the distance. It seems that the enemies have taken over a large portion of the
area around the castle.
"You should go help those guarding the lower grounds," I order my
men.
I turn to my brothers. "Join them. I need to find Dorothy as soon as
possible. She was in the west wing."
They nod and proceed to our men’s aid. With quick steps, I head toward
Dorothy's chambers. Blood pounds in my ears as I move quickly, hoping
she was smart enough to hide or escape.
When I get there, I lunge forward and send the door flying off its
hinges. Panic grips my chest like a vise as I realize she isn't in her chamber.
My heart sinks with dread for I suspect the worst: they've taken her.
I'm filled with a sense of helplessness, realizing that I may have lost
Dorothy forever. I let myself fall on my knees as I scream in anger and
frustration.
"I should have protected her better!" I groan, tearing at my hair as I take
in the trashed furniture all around. I can recognise the signs of struggle. It
seems Dorothy fought whoever had come for her. My enemy must have
somehow found out about her and the role she was supposed to take in the
kingdom so we could defeat our illness. Maybe that is the reason why we
were attacked so unexpectedly tonight.
I have to find her—my queen. We hardly know each other but nothing
else matters. Not even my own life. I will find her and bring her home. For
her, for us, and for our kingdom.
I stand to my feet with renewed determination, fueled by rage and the
burning desire to take back what is rightfully mine.
 Grimgar appears beside me and places his hand on my shoulder. I can
sense his unwavering support. "They must have known she was important
to you. That’s why they took her," he says, his voice strong and confident.
"We'll find Dorothy after we've taken back what's ours."
Grommash is here, too. So is Throgg. Grommash nods in agreement, his
face set in a determined grimace. "We stand with you, Vorgath. Let's show
these bastards what it means to cross us."
Throgg grins in his usual boyish way but his expression is infused with
gravity. His eyes shine with a fierce light. "It's been too long since we all
stood together in battle. Let's go spill some more blood and fight for our
people!"
We march through the castle halls, our feet pounding in unison on the
cold stone floor.
"There are more enemy soldiers downstairs," Grimgar says, "But we
have a chance if we flank them. I have ordered a number of men into
position. All they need is our presence. Victory is ours, brother," he says
with confidence. I wish I can be more positive and level-headed as he is
right now, but I am too consumed with rage to think straight. Still, I will
fight anyone and everyone until I get Dorothy back.
Battle sounds echo down the corridor. A pungent odor fills the air, one
that I have come to know all too well—the smell of blood and burning
sulfur. As we race down the hallway, my stomach churns with excitement
and bloodthirst.
Some of my men join us, armed to the teeth.
"We're ready, my king," they announce.
Grommash's voice is strong and encouraging as he says, "Don't let
Dorothy's kidnapping get to you. We'll get her back," he says, the
expression on his face saying everything his mouth isn't saying. Throgg
stands at my side, his eyes fixed on the enemy as we charge in the
courtyard.
 The sounds of our cries echo as we cut through enemy lines. Every step
we take is filled with purpose, every strike calculated and precise. The
chaos around us only serves to fuel our resolve. We fight with all we have
in us.
"For our land, for our children and for our ancestors!" Grimgar cries out
and the men yell in response.
Swords and shields raised high, we join our forces and the enemy's
shock is palpable. They probably thought we’d succumbed to the attack on
the other side of the castle. A point in our favor.
I swing my broadsword in broad, powerful arcs, and each stroke rings
out with a metallic crash. Blood sprays in the air as my blade cleaves
through flesh and bone with ease. My satisfaction builds with each
slaughter. Dorothy’s name echoes in my mind like a battle cry, spurring me
forward.
We fight all night while the moon casts its dim light on the carnage.
But finally, our victory is at hand. The enemy is in disarray, their
numbers dwindling by the minute. I can feel my strength fading, but I
refuse to give up. I keep wondering how my beloved is feeling right now.
She must be so scared and confused.
Soon, the sun starts to rise again on the horizon.
With a final burst of energy, we charge forward, our swords and axes
striking with deadly precision. The enemy falls before us like wheat before
the scythe. And then, just as suddenly as it began, it is over.
I look around at the bodies strewn across the courtyard, the air heavy
with the scent of blood and sweat. Relief and exhaustion wash over me as I
look at my brothers. They smile at me, their faces tired but triumphant.
Together, we have taken back our castle and though the cost has been
high, our victory is sweet. Well, semi-sweet. I think of Dorothy again, and
the promise I made to protect her. I swear I will keep that promise, no
matter the cost.
 My men are worn out. Some of them haven't seen battle prior to this but
now they have a taste of it. And their bond with the other men has grown
stronger. Whatever comes their way, they will face it together, as brothers.
I instruct everyone to go to their families and clean themselves up. To
cherish the moments with their loved ones tonight. Then, I return to my
chamber.
I stand on the balcony in my room, staring out into the aftermath of the
battle. How ironic that when I was here earlier I’d felt so much happiness
and anticipation toward a pleasurable night. Now, the object of my joy has
been snatched from me, leaving me filled with nothing but rage. I look
down at the castle grounds, littered with the broken bodies of my men.
Smoke fills the air, blocking out the sunlight.
My heart feels heavy with the weight of my failure in protecting
Dorothy. The human woman I decided to bring here to save my people has
been taken by our enemies, and many of my people paid the price for it. I
should have suspected that someone would betray me. It had to have
happened that way. I let her down, too.
My thoughts race as I wonder how she is being treated.
I try to imagine her face in my mind's eye—her beautiful smile and
infectious laughter. The way she moves her body when she walks, her hair,
and how she brushes the strands away from her face. So free, so alive. But
now she's gone, and my heart aches with longing for her. I must find her, no
matter what it takes.
Down below, my men move among the bodies, searching for survivors
among their fallen comrades. Blood stains the ground and seeps into the
earth, a testament to the brutality of war.
But even in the midst of this devastation, I can't help but notice the
small things. The way the sunlight glints off a discarded shield, or the way a
breeze ruffles the leaves of a nearby tree. It's as if the world around me is
carrying on as usual, even though everything has changed in a big and
unexpected way.
Suddenly, my brother Grimgar enters the room. He gives me a grave
look, and I know that the news he brings will not be good.
"We lost many men. Six dozen and still counting," he tells me.
My heart sinks even lower. So many brave warriors were gone in an
instant. I feel a deep sense of responsibility for their deaths. They trusted
me to lead them, and I feel like I failed them.
"They are Zogar's men, aren't they?" I ask.
"Yes. We have confirmed from the patterns on their emblem. They're
indeed from his kingdom."
"He'll pay for this!" I say. “I’m going to destroy him.”
Zogar is a king from a neighboring kingdom. He is known all across the
mountains to be a troublesome and bitter orc and is known for taking what
is not his. My father was his enemy and he still holds a grudge against me.
But even as I mourn the loss of my men, my thoughts return to Dorothy.
I wonder what she's thinking right now, whether she's scared or determined
to fight back.
I remember the way she stands up for what she believes in, even when it
is difficult or uncomfortable—such as when she was first brought before
me. She isn’t one to back down from a challenge, and I know she'll be
fighting with all her might to escape her captors. But Zogar is a very
dangerous orc who wants to see my downfall and I fear for Dorothy's
safety.
But maybe, just maybe, she'll find a way to escape and return to me, or
at least, stay alive and out of trouble.
Meanwhile, I have a duty to my people. I must rally my remaining
soldiers and prepare for the next battle, for I know it's only a matter of time
before the enemy returns. And when they do, we'll be ready.
 As I turn to leave the balcony, my eyes fall once again on the scene
below. The smoke has begun to clear, revealing the full extent of the
destruction. I see broken weapons, shattered shields, and lifeless bodies.
But I also see something else. Something that gives me hope.
Among the rubble and debris, my men are working tirelessly to clear a
path. They may be battered and bruised, but their determination hasn't
wavered. They're ready to fight again, to defend their home and their
people. And I know that, with their help, I'll find Dorothy and bring her
home.
As I head back inside, I vow to myself that I won't rest until I've rescued
her. I'll search every corner of the land if I have to, but I won't stop until
she's safe. Because she's not just my beloved—she's also my people's only
hope and a way to end the illness we are battling.
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter

Eight

D orothy

I walk toward V orgath , my heart beating triple time. I still can’t believe
I’m getting married again … and to a real, live monster.
Clad in a beautiful white wedding gown with dainty beadwork and lace
on the corset, I move slowly, all orc eyes on me. He stands at the far end of
the throne room, his broad shoulders and muscular frame dominating the
space in his regal attire.
As I approach, I note the pride and joy in his eyes. He takes my hand
and leads me up the steps to the throne where we are to exchange our vows,
or whatever orcs say to commit themselves in marriage.
Everyone is thrilled to see their king and his chosen consort. They cheer
and clap as we make our way up to the throne, and my heart swells with
happiness.
The decor is stunning, with beautiful flowers and ornate decorations on
every surface. The air is filled with the sweet scent of rose petals, and I can
see that every detail has been carefully planned and executed to perfection.
As we stand before the throne, Vorgath looks deeply into my eyes. He
recites his vows to me, promising to love and protect me for the rest of our
days. Tears well up in my eyes as I recite my own vows, promising to love
and cherish him for all eternity.
While we exchange rings, a sense of completeness washes over me.
This is where I belong, with Vorgath by my side, ruling over his kingdom
and sharing our lives together. My ex-husband is long forgotten and I am
healed.
The orcs cheer once again when we share our first kiss as husband and
wife. Vorgath's strong arms wrap around me, and I feel safe.
The reception ensues with sumptuous food and drink, music, and
dancing. Love and happiness radiate from every orc in the room, and I am
filled with gratitude for their support and acceptance of me as their queen.
As the night wears on and the festivities come to a close, Vorgath takes
my hand and leads me back to our room. Excitement builds inside me for
soon we’ll be alone, just the two of us, as husband and wife.
But as we enter the room, everything fades away and I am left confused
and disoriented.
Vorgath comes back into view in front of me. He takes my gown off in
the darkness and things become more erotic and intimate between us.
Vorgath touches and kisses every part of my body. His touch is a fantasy
made real.
His exploring hands leave a blazing trail all over. With his rough palms
he kneads my curves and ravages me as his lips rain fire down my neck,
igniting a storm of passion within me. I arch my back in surrender as he
cups my breasts, yearning for his touch.
He flicks his tongue over my nipples and I quiver in pleasure, gasping
and moaning at every turn. Then he sucks each one hard, and I’m about to
lose my damn mind. His hard cock presses against me. He’s huge but I can’t
wait to have him inside me.
Vorgath moves down to my lower lips, and heat radiates off him as he
feasts on me. His tongue drives me to distraction as I writhe and moan
beneath him. My body tenses, my heart jumps to my throat. Every nerve
within me is alive, sparks of electricity shooting through me with every beat
of my pulse. I am soaring toward a crescendo of pleasure that threatens to
consume me entirely.
Just as I am about to reach the peak, we hear a loud bang. The door
bursts open and other orcs barge inside.
I scream in fear as Vorgath tries to shield me, but he is quickly ripped
away from me. I am left panting and terrified. Confused, dizzy. Then
everything goes dark and I hear his screams slowly dying off.
I blink and the room swims back into focus. A dull throbbing ache
crashes against my skull, and I clutch desperately at my temples. My heart
hammers in my chest, and I can feel sweat collecting on my forehead as I
take shallow gasps of air. Everything around me is a blur, each object
slowly materializing as if through fog.
Slowly, my memories are back and I let go of a shaky breath.
I’m alone.
Vorgath…
Everything—the wedding, making love after—was a dream.
It was so vivid, so real, yet it wasn’t. I can't believe I dreamt something
like that, especially given my current situation.
I can’t remember how I got here. The last thing I can recall is being in
my chamber waiting for him when someone barged inside. I screamed when
a number of scary orcs suddenly surrounded my bed.
I take a deep breath and focus on the present. My surroundings are
bathed in darkness and I can barely make anything out. Shadows dance on
the walls as my eyes adjust, creating an eerie atmosphere. The only exit is a
large, solid door, impenetrable to my feeble attempts at escape.
I can hear the sound of guards moving outside, their heavy footsteps
echoing in the hallway beyond. I must have been taken captive by Vorgath's
enemies—this is the only reasonable explanation as to why I am here. I
close my eyes and count up to ten in my head, pushing away the rising
panic. Blood starts to drum in my ears, taking me under, but I have to pull
myself together or I might lose it. This happened to me after my divorce. I
started having panic attacks and I thought I was dying.
After several long, deep breaths, I regain a semblance of control. I need
to be alert, to be aware of my surroundings so I can figure out my next
move.
But it's hard to focus, to think clearly, when my body feels so tired and
heavy. I can barely lift my arms, let alone stand up or move around. It's like
all the energy has been drained out of me, leaving me weak and vulnerable.
The memories are blurry and fragmented, like pieces of a puzzle that
don't quite fit together. I remember struggling as hard as a could then
running, hiding, and trying to escape these ugly orcs. Then ... nothing. A
blank space in my memory, like a gap in time.
I need to find a way out of this room and return to Vorgath's kingdom.
But how? The door is no doubt heavily guarded, with no obvious
weaknesses or vulnerabilities. And even if I could somehow get past the
guards, where would I go? I'm in enemy territory, possibly in another part
of the mountain, with no allies or friends to turn to.
I keep thinking about my erotic and completely inappropriate dream.
Such a joyful scene. What could that mean when it is exactly the opposite
of what is happening to me right now?
I start to pace back and forth, trying to come up with a plan, but it feels
like a hopeless task. I must be locked in some sort of dungeon, alone and
defenseless.
I stand to examine the space more closely. The musty smell that fills my
nostrils. The walls are bare, covered in patches of peeling paint, and a
single lantern hanging from the ceiling acts as the sole source of
illumination in the room, casting flickering shadows that dance across the
walls. I can hear the sound of water dripping somewhere but can't see where
it's coming from.
As I take a closer look, I notice that the room is filled with old and
unused things that have been left to gather dust. There are piles of rotting
food in the corners, and there are no windows or ventilation. My stomach
roils and I have the urge to vomit yet tamp it down.
I tiptoe toward the door and press my ear against the rough wood, trying
to hear anything that might give me a clue about my captors. The sounds of
gruff, guttural voices echo through the door, and I strain to make out the
words they are saying.
Panic grips me like an invisible hand pressing around my throat. I shut
my eyes, telling myself to breathe again.
"According to the rumors in the castle that I’ve heard so far, Vorgath is
besotted with this human, so surely he will do anything to get her back,"
says one of the voices.
"She’s Zogar’s leverage," chuckles another, the voice decidedly more
sinister.
"What if Vorgath doesn't care about her? Apparently he kidnapped her
when she climbed the mountain," says a third voice with a note of
skepticism in his tone.
"I would have taken her myself if I were him. This human is beautiful
and exotic. He cares about her."
The orcs' dialogue continues and I can hear them debating my future. A
chill of terror runs through me as I understand how precarious my situation
has become.
I pull away from the door, sinking down onto the dirty floor. My mind
races with thoughts of Vorgath and the attack back at the castle. I wonder if
he even knows I am missing. Has he already given up on me or is he out
there, searching for me even now?
He'll surely know by now….
 He wouldn’t just abandon me, right? I might not know him that well but
he seems the honorable sort.
I continue looking for anything that might give me a clue about my
captors or a way out. The guards mentioned a name: Zogar. He must be
their leader. Why have they kidnapped me? What would they want in
exchange for me?
It's crazy that a few weeks ago, I was at my home, doing normal things
and living a normal life like normal people until I came to the mountain.
Now I am in hostile territory and God knows what lies ahead for me here.
The only sound is the drip, drip, drip of water somewhere in the room. I
feel tired and dizzy—I must have been drugged or made unconscious in
some way. Maybe that's the reason for the weird dreams. My head is
spinning, and I can barely keep my eyes open.
I try to shake off the cotton brain and think clearly, but it's impossible.
My mind is foggy and I can barely keep my thoughts straight.
Just then, the door creaks open and my heart races as I cower in fear.
My breath quickens and my palms are damp with sweat. As the door opens
fully, a towering figure looms over me.
My eyes widen in terror when I realize that this is not a beautiful orc
like Vorgath or people from his kingdom, but an ugly and grotesque one.
His misshapen body seethes with a malignant energy, and his skin is an ugly
gray-green hue covered in protrusions of matted fur. His eyes are dull and
vacant, and his twisted mouth is filled with razor sharp yellow fangs. The
only thing worse than the creature's appearance is its stench—a putrid smell
of decay that makes my stomach churn.
I try to shrink away from him, but I am trapped in this small space. He
steps closer and nausea hits me as he reaches out and grabs me roughly by
the arm. I wince in pain when he tightens his grip, his calloused skin against
my soft flesh.
 Without a word, he drags me out of the room and down a dimly lit
hallway. As we walk, I can see this place is nothing like Vorgath's castle.
The walls are rough and dirty, and there are no decorations or ornaments.
The air is thick with the smell of mildew and decay, and I can hear the
sounds of rats scurrying around.
We finally come to a large room and I am thrown onto a filthy bed in
the corner. The orc towers over me, his sneer revealing the yellow stains on
his jagged teeth. A malicious glint in his eyes tells me he’s here for more
than just a fight. I can feel my heart drop as I slowly understand what he
craves from me: power, domination, and submission. His gaze holds me
captive with a warning that defies rebellion.
He leans closer, his hot breath on my neck. I close my eyes, trying to
block out the fear and disgust.
"You make me sick!” I yell. “If you touch me, I swear to God, I am
going to rip your flesh with my teeth.”
I have no idea where this even comes from, but I need to show him that
I am not afraid.
Suddenly, I hear a commotion outside the door and the orc jumps away
from me, breathing heavily. Then he strolls out, leaving me alone.
I sit up, rubbing my arms and trying to shake off the feeling of his vile
touch, telling myself to keep breathing. I can hear muffled voices outside. I
tiptoe to the door and press my ear against it, trying to hear what they are
saying.
"Who gave you the order to take the human from her cell?" a voice
asks.
"No one, I wanted to take better look at—"
"Shut the fuck up. I shall cut your hands for touching what’s mine.
Throw this fool in a cell till he gets his brain back."
I draw away and sink down on the bed, tears welling up in my eyes. I
miss Vorgath and wish he could be here with me. How am I getting out of
this mess?
As I sit there, lost in my thoughts, I hear the door open again and brace
myself for the worst. It's not the massive orc from before, but one who
looks almost identical to him in size and build. His face is more angular
though, with a hooked nose and sharp cheekbones.
He must be important, I speculate since he said I belong to him. His
robes give him an air of royalty. His bulky frame fills the doorway, then
towers over me as he steps into the room. His skin is a sickly shade of green
with patches of matted hair sprouting from his arms and chest. His eyes are
small and beady, set deep into his forehead beneath thick, bushy brows. His
nose is more than crooked; it is misshapen, as if it has been broken and
never healed properly. His sharp, yellow teeth gleam in the dim light of the
room as he grins wickedly at me.
A bodyguard stands next to him. His armor is blackened and worn, with
dents and scratches covering the surface made of intricate designs of
twisted vines and thorns. A pair of sharp horns jut out from the top of his
helmet.
He must have been the one that rebuked the huge orc for bringing me
here. His voice as I heard earlier is low and rumbling, with a harsh edge that
sends shivers down my spine. As he approaches me, I can feel the heat
emanating from him, and more of the stench of sweat and decay fills my
nostrils.
He moves slowly, his every step a deliberate show of power and
dominance. The muscles in his arms and legs bulge as he flexes them.
Despite his repulsive appearance, I can sense a certain charisma in his
bearing, a confidence that likely comes from years of being a leader and
warrior.
"Hello there, little pretty human. I am Zogar, king of the Throttbul Orc
Kingdom," he introduces himself, tilting his head and staring at me with his
piercing eyes. “You’re my noble guest and I must apologize for earlier on. It
seems my soldiers don’t respect my toys.”
I grit my teeth, refusing to show any fear even though I am scared
shitless. "I am not your guest. Your men have brought me here against my
wishes. I belong to Vorgath.”
Zogar chuckles, a cruel sound that echoes around the dingy room. "Ah
yes, Vorgath. Well, I don’t think you matter that much to him. He likes the
company of human women, so he keeps them close by. He uses them and
then tosses them aside, moving to the next one. I hate to break it to you, but
he’s not going to protect you.”
I glare at him, telling myself that I don’t need to listen to his lies. I am
the only human Vorgath had in the castle and I won’t be easily manipulated.
"What do you want from me? Why have you taken me?"
Zogar steps closer. "Oh, I have been planning this for years. Ever since I
heard Vorgath has been planning to take a human bride. Then you showed
up. I couldn't wait to see what all the fuss was about and why you are
suddenly so special." He leans down and runs his rough hand down my
arm, making me shudder. "And I have to say, you are even more beautiful in
person than I imagined."
I pull away from him, my stomach churning. "Leave me alone. I won't
let you use me against Vorgath."
Zogar laughs again, his eyes glinting with malice. "Oh, I'm not just
going to use you against him. I'm going to keep you for myself as my queen
and together we'll rule over all the orc kingdoms. But first, I need answers."
I try not to show him how truly petrified I am because he might do
worse to me, so I stay put when he invades my space.
"Let me tell you a story, Dorothy. A story of how I defeated not one, but
two kingdoms way bigger than Vorgath's in my quest for power. I did it to
show everyone that I am the most powerful orc king around and you'll soon
come to see that, too."
 I swallow hard, feeling the weight of his words. I don't want to listen to
him, but what choice do I have? I instinctively place my hands on my
stomach and suppress a grimace.
"So, there were these two kingdoms," Zogar continues, a cruel grin
spreading across his face. "They thought they were strong, that they could
stand up to me. But they were wrong. I destroyed them both, crushed their
armies, and took their lands."
He pauses, his eyes glittering with satisfaction. "And you know what,
Dorothy? I did it all without breaking a sweat. That's how powerful I am."
I feel sick for I'm trapped with a monster who revels in his own
ruthlessness.
"But enough about me," Zogar says, his voice turning soft. "Let's talk
about you, my dear. Tell me about your friend, Jane."
I tense at the mention of my friend. How did this beast even know about
her? "What do you care about Jane?" I snap, trying my damnedest to keep
my voice steady.
Zogar chuckles, his eyes gleaming. "Oh, I care about a lot of things,
woman. But right now, I would like us to get to know each other a little
better."
My stomach churns as I realize the full extent of Zogar's twisted plans.
"You'll never get away with this," I spit, infusing as much defiance in my
tone as I can muster.
Zogar laughs, a menacing sound. "Oh, but I already have. And you, my
dear, are going to be my key to victory. Vorgath will do anything to get you
back, but he won't be able to. Because he's dead."
A cold shiver runs down my spine at his words, even though I’m fully
aware he’s lying to me. Vorgath isn’t dead and he’s contradicting himself.
He said earlier he wanted to take me from him. Why bother if he’s really
dead? Zogar must have lost a few of his marbles.
 "I'll never be yours. I'd rather die," I say shakily. "Vorgath will come for
me and make you pay for what you've done."
Zogar smirks, his face alight with a wicked hatred that penetrates my
very soul.
"We'll see about that. I can be very convincing, you know.”
As I struggle to keep my composure, Zogar suddenly lunges at me, his
mouth open and teeth bared. I stumble backwards, barely avoiding his
grasp. He laughs again, licking his lips.
"You're feisty. I like that. But you'll learn to care for me, maybe even
love me in time. And then you'll forget all about Vorgath. Because he's
really dead. Killed in battle." He chuckles, running his hand down my
cheek.
I bite my bottom lip and pull away from his touch. I refuse to believe
this beast. Vorgath can't be dead, I would have sensed or felt something,
would I?
But a traitorous doubt starts to creep in.
Zogar finally leaves and I sink on my knees, covering my face with my
hands. As I fall into fits of sobs, I allow myself a few moments of self-pity
upon realizing I’m all alone.
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter

Nine

V orgath

I pace around the balcony , my thoughts in a million places at the same

time. I can’t stand that I have no idea what is going on with Dorothy.
Maybe she hates me for allowing enemies to take her away or for making
her stay here with me after announcing that she would become my wife.
"I swear, if that filthy rat Zogar laid his dirty hands on her, I’m going to
rip his cock out and feed it to the pigs," I mutter under my breath. I must be
losing my fucking mind, talking to myself like this.
"My king," says a servant who’s come up behind me, startling me.
I turn around to face him. "What now?" I’m still irritated by the
thoughts that occupy my mind.
"Forgive me, but everyone is gathered in the throne room, waiting for
you."
"Oh. I'll be there in a minute. Thank you. You can leave," I tell him.
I gather my wits and find my way to the throne room. As I enter, the
tense atmosphere wraps around me. The hall is spacious, its walls adorned
with trophies of our past victories, setting a tone for our imminent
discussion of war.
 Members of the council of orcs and noble families are here to discuss
the recent attack by Zogar's soldiers and the kidnapping of my human bride-
to-be, Dorothy. On one side sit the councilors on large stone chairs, each
adorned with intricate carvings and designs. The nobles have taken
cushioned seats on the other side. It is obvious they are all deeply
concerned.
As expected, some suggest that we attack Zogar's kingdom immediately.
I remain silent for a while, observing as they argue amongst themselves.
I sit on my throne, looking down at the sea of orcs below me. The recent
attack from Zogar's soldiers has left them all on edge, and Dorothy’s
kidnapping only adds to their unease. I can feel the weight of their gaze
upon me, and it's clear they're looking to me for guidance.
I take a deep breath before speaking.
"Friends," I say, my voice echoing through the throne room. "We have
been attacked and my beloved Dorothy has been taken. I know many of you
are frightened, but we cannot let fear rule our actions. We must be strong
and brave for the sake of our kingdom and our people."
The orcs shift uneasily, their expressions uncertain for we do not yet
have a good plan of action.
"Our first priority must be to protect our kingdom," I continue. "But we
cannot simply retreat into our castle and hope that the danger will pass us
by. We must be proactive in our defense, but this does not mean we should
blindly attack. Although it would be good to make our move before Zogar
has the chance to attack us again."
There's a murmur of agreement from some of the orcs in the crowd, but
others remain skeptical.
"How do we know that attacking Zogar's kingdom is a wise move? This
will only make things worse," one of the council members asks.
I meet his gaze head-on. "We don't," I respond. "But whatever we do,
we cannot sit idly by and let him attack us again. We must take the fight to
him, in one way or another. The question is how."
Another orc, a noble with broad shoulders and a thick beard, speaks up.
"But what about the people?" he asks. "We must evacuate them to the castle
where they'll be safe."
There are nods of agreement from some of the other orcs, and I can see
the logic in their argument. But there are also flaws in that sort of plan.
"Our people rely on us to protect them," I say. "If we evacuate them to
the castle, we're effectively abandoning them to their fate because that’s
where the enemy would strike first. We must be strong and stand with them,
shoulder to shoulder, in this fight."
There are more murmurs of agreement, but a few remain unconvinced.
"What about assassinating Zogar?" another orc suggests. "If we take
him out, the rest of his army will crumble."
I shake my head. "Assassination is not the answer. It will only serve to
make things worse, especially once they crown a new king. What if he’s
worse? The problems won’t just go away. We need a more strategic
approach."
The council members and noble orcs begin to argue amongst
themselves, each one advocating for their own plan of action. I allow them
some time to hash it out.
Finally, when the room has fallen silent, I speak again. "I appreciate all
of your ideas," I say. "But I need time to think. We cannot make hasty
decisions at a time like this. We need to work together if we're going to
come out of this alive."
There's a long moment of silence, and then I continue, "I know some of
you doubt me, but I have never failed you before—and I will not fail you
now. I need you to trust in me. Have faith. Together, we will conquer as we
always do."
As they continue to argue, I take in their expressions and physical
features. Some are young and eager, while others are old and wise. Some
have scars on their faces, evidence of battles they've fought and won.
Others have a look of fear in their eyes, perhaps doubting our ability to
defeat Zogar.
As I watch the council members argue among themselves, I cannot help
but feel the weight of responsibility that has been placed on my shoulders. I
know that whatever decision I make will have consequences for our people
and our kingdom.
Finally, I stand from my seat and the room falls silent. "My fellow
tribesmen," I say, my voice strong and commanding. "I hear your concerns,
and I share them. Zogar has declared war on us and we must defend
ourselves. But we must also remember our priorities. Our people come first,
always."
"We shall prepare ourselves for the long fight ahead. But do not fear.
We are a force to reckon with,” I stress again.
The tension seems to ease then, and I can sense something has shifted.
One of the noble orcs speaks up, "My King, what is your plan?"
I smile. "I will need some time to refine what I have in mind, but I
promise you all that I will not rest until our kingdom is secure, and Dorothy
is safely returned to us. In the meantime, I ask that you all prepare for
battle, and trust in me to lead us to victory. Zogar is a cunning adversary,
and we cannot afford to underestimate him."
Some of the council members look disappointed by my words, but I
continue, "We need to gather more information about his army and their
intentions before we take any action. We must also plan for the rescue of
my beloved Dorothy."
A hum travels through the crowd.
"My fellow warriors, I understand your frustration, but we cannot let it
cloud our judgment in this crucial situation. Above all we must remain
united in the face of this threat."
 The orcs look up at me, their expressions shifting from uncertainty to
determination. I can now see the fire in their eyes. The council members
nod in agreement, and it is clear that a sense of unity and purpose have
returned to the throne room. We will not let Zogar defeat us, and we will
not let Dorothy be taken from us. We will prevail, no matter what
challenges lie ahead.
Soon, the council members and nobles file out of the throne room,
satisfied for the time being. I signal to my brothers to meet me right away
for a private discussion.
We go to our private sanctuary—a secluded room we customarily use to
discuss the most important matters. Only we have access to it.
My mind is preoccupied with thoughts of Dorothy. My beautiful human
woman and bride, kidnapped by the enemy during the attack on our
kingdom. I just can’t fathom what Zogar is doing to her.
Grimgar, Grommash, and Throgg all sit around the table with me,
contemplating our next move.
"We need to do something," I say, breaking the silence.
"I agree," Throgg chimes in. "But what can we do? We have already lost
a bunch of good warriors," he says. He is the most inexperienced—although
he fights well, he sometimes doesn't think beyond the obvious. I say
nothing and wait for Grimgar and Grommash's reply.
"We could try negotiating with Zogar, to see if we can strike a deal for
Dorothy's release," Grommash suggests.
Grimgar throws him an incredulous expression. "Negotiate with Zogar?
He's the one who declared war on us! He won't release Dorothy without a
fight."
I nod in agreement with Grimgar. Negotiating with Zogar would be a
waste of time. He's a maniacal orc who only cares about power and
domination.
 "We need to come up with a plan," I say firmly. "Something that will
catch Zogar off guard and allow us to rescue Dorothy."
My brothers all nod in agreement. After a few moments of thoughtful
silence, Grommash speaks up again, "I may have another good plan."
My ears perk up at the mention of a plan. I lean forward in my seat,
eager to hear what he has to say.
"I suggest we send in a small group of highly skilled assassins to
infiltrate Zogar's castle and retrieve Dorothy," he explains. "We need to act
fast and stealthily before Zogar realizes what we're doing."
This suggestion is risky, but it would not demand much collateral. Plus,
it would create the least fuss and it might just work.
"What about our soldiers?" Throgg asks. "Shouldn't we send them in to
help?"
"No." He shakes his head. "If we send in a large group, we'll just alert
Zogar to our presence. We need to keep this small and discreet."
I nod, acknowledging that his idea has some merit. Besides, we don't
have much of a choice at this point.
"We'll need to choose our team carefully," I say. "Only the best will do
for this mission."
"Or we could do something else," Grimgar interjects, his eyes narrowed.
"This is a lot riskier than Grommash's plan, but what if we handle it
ourselves?"
"Speak up now, Grimgar," I say.
He explains his idea to us and we all sigh at the same time.
It would be a daring undertaking. My people would risk losing their
king, but how could I leave Dorothy’s safety in anyone else’s hands? The
more I thought about it, the more I realized it was the only way.
We spend the rest of the night discussing the details, each of us
contributing our insights. The more we talk, the more excited I become. A
new fire burns within me, born from the desire to rescue my beloved
Dorothy from the clutches of our enemy.
As the night wears on, we finally decide on a course of action. We vow
to act right away as we clasp hands in solidarity. After all we are brothers in
blood and in spirit, united by our love for each other and for our kingdom.
I stand from my chair. "Let us go, brothers," I say. "We have work to
do."
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter

Ten

V orgath

T he next day , we set our complex plan in motion. As we walk through the
dense forest on foot after tethering our horses at the edge of our land, the
sound of our footsteps is the only thing that can be heard, apart from the
chirping of birds. When we proceed deeper into enemy territory, it seems no
creature even dares to make its voice heard.
Grimgar is in the lead, scanning the area for any signs of danger.
Grommash and Throgg take the rear behind me, their weapons at the ready.
Grimgar suddenly stops and turns to us. "Brothers, we are getting
close," he says in a low voice. "We need to be extra careful from here on.
Watch out for the patrols. Do not let your guard down."
I nod in agreement, grasping the sword at my hip.
The air is warm and still, and the sunlight filters through the foliage. As
we make our descent, the trees grow sparser. Then before us sparkles a
crystal clear stream, with rocks lining the banks. I cup my hands to scoop
water from the cool depths and take some refreshment. My brothers follow
suit.
 Lush green vegetation surrounds us, and the sunlight casts a warm glow
on everything.
"This place is beautiful," Throgg says, breaking the silence. “Pity Zogar
is too much of a jackass to appreciate his kingdom.”
"Yes, it is and yes, he is," I reply, smiling at him. "But we can't forget
why we are here. We need to keep moving."
We continue walking along the stream, the sound of the running water
providing soothing background noise. I look around at my brothers, their
faces stoic and determined. They know the stakes are high, and we need to
succeed in our mission.
"We're almost there," Grimgar murmurs.
My heart starts to beat faster. Treading quietly, we make our way toward
the enemy's stronghold. Maybe I am crazy for doing this, but how else
could we avoid more bloodshed?
Soon, the tranquility of the forest is shattered by the sounds of rustling
leaves and cracking twigs.
"Get ready, brothers," I whisper as we draw our weapons and trudge
along the winding path. Soon, we emerge from the foliage and find
ourselves in a clearing, where enemy soldiers are waiting for us.
"Come on then!" Grimgar yells, charging at them.
I lunge forward, Grommash just steps behind me. The thunderous clang
of metal fills the air as swords spark with each clash. Arrows fly around us
like a swarm of locusts. We keep our heads low, dodging the slashing
blades and razor-tipped arrows as we slowly advance, pushing towards
victory, step by step.
Grommash swings his ax, taking out two of Zogar's men. Grimgar
wields his favored hammer with deadly precision, knocking down anyone
who dares come close to him. I use my sword, moving gracefully as I block
and counter-attack.
 After a few minutes of intense fighting, we are overpowered and
captured. We allow them to bind us and drag us away, feigning defeat.
As we are led away, I sense Throgg's eyes on us, following us closely.
This is an integral part of our strategy: we know that our capture will lead
us to Dorothy.
"Remember the plan,” I whisper to my brothers. “Keep your wits about
you and don't be reckless. It is important that we stay in character for the
right moment."
Grimgar nods, his face stern and determined. "Don't worry, Vorgath. We
know what to do."
Grommash's eyes are blazing with anger. "We will make Zogar pay for
what he has done."
"Shut it!" one of the Zogar's men barked and we quickly put an end to
our whispering.
As we are taken deeper into the forest, I feel uneasy. Not for my sake,
but for the sake of the people back home, for my brothers’ sake, and
ultimately for Dorothy's sake.
Also, the fate of our kingdom and the safety of my beloved are both at
stake, and we have a long and difficult road ahead of us. Despite how I feel,
I know that with my brothers by my side, we can overcome any obstacle
that comes our way. They are the best chance we have of pulling this off.
Zogar’s orcs are talking about my bride-to-be as if she's just an object to
be won and used. I know they are doing their best to rile me up, and they
are succeeding. How dare they even think about laying their filthy hands on
her? I am going to rip their limbs off their bodies one by one until they beg
me to kill them.
"Zogar just captured Vorgath’s pretty human bride," one says.
"I hear she's a real trophy. Human women are built differently and I
would love to take her under my watch sometime," another says with
rumbling laughter while I clench my fists, trying to breathe … but oxygen
is not getting into my lungs.
"Maybe when we raid the shitty town again, I'll get myself a generous
girl and take her home."
They all laugh like the fools they are. I can see that Grimgar and
Grommash are also bothered by the conversation, but they remain quiet. It's
all part of our plan, after all. We need to keep up the charade and pretend
we are just ordinary captives.
One of the orcs, a brutish-looking creature with a huge scar on his face,
pipes up, "If I get my hands on that human girl, I'll show her what a real orc
commander can do."
"I don't think she'll be able to handle all of us at once…"
If they keep this up, I’m not sure I can hold back. All the veins in my
arms stand out like cords of steel and my skin is burning hot with rage. My
brothers take a step back, their faces paling as they witness my
uncontrollable anger.
I take a deep breath and work on calming myself down. We can't afford
to blow our cover now. We need to stick to the plan and wait.
As we continue on, the orcs start talking about their plans for the night.
They are going to camp out in a nearby forest and keep watch over us. They
think we are just ordinary prisoners and have no idea whatsoever about our
real identity. Guess I’m hard to recognize with my run-of-the-mill soldier’s
uniform on.
We reach the campsite and the orcs start setting up their tents. As we are
led to the bush where we are to camp for the night—no tent for us—I notice
the surrounding area is dense with trees, and the thick foliage blocks out
most of the moonlight.
The area is large enough to accommodate all of us, with ample space for
us to lie down and sleep. The leafy tree branches overhead create a natural
canopy overhead, providing shelter from the elements. The ground is also
relatively clear of debris.
As I turn to scan our surroundings once more, I catch sight of a pair of
glowing eyes staring back at me. The hairs on the back of my neck rise for
it is clear we are not alone in this forest. I keep quiet and signal to my
brothers to keep a lookout. Soon, it becomes obvious we are dealing with a
big cat.
Zogar's men waste no time in setting up a fire. The glow from the
flames creates an eerie ambiance. The scent of burning wood mixes with
the dampness of the forest, as well as the odor of cooking meat. The smell
makes my stomach growl, but I try to ignore it.
I keep my eyes peeled as we settle down for the night. The darkness
makes it difficult to see but the sounds of the forest are enough to keep me
on edge. I hear the hoot of an owl in the distance, the rustling of leaves, and
the occasional snap of a twig.
Despite my unease, I know we have to stay alert and ready for whatever
might come our way. We are in enemy territory, and any misstep can cost us
our lives. As I lie there, I think about Dorothy and how I wish she were
with me, back in my kingdom. I miss her warm presence.
The orcs sit around the fire, drinking and laughing. They start talking
about Dorothy again, referring to her as the human girl, and I can't help but
listen.
One of the orcs, a younger one who looks like he's trying too hard to
impress the others, says, "I heard that human girls are very delicate. They
can't handle our kind."
Another one sneers. "That's why they need real orcs—monsters like us
—to show them pleasure."
I grit my teeth and ball my fists as the anger builds up again. Grimgar
and Grommash remain quiet, but I can tell that they are just as furious as I
am. We need to get out of here and rescue Dorothy as soon as possible.
 As the night wears on, the orcs get drunk and rowdy. They start
shouting and fighting amongst themselves. One of them accidentally
knocks over a pot of boiling water, and it spills all over me.
I grit my teeth, trying not to scream in pain. The orcs laugh and jeer at
me, but I force myself to keep my cool.
We spend a sleepless night in the camp, waiting with bated breath. I can
feel Throgg's eyes upon us, constantly watching and waiting for the right
moment to strike.
With every passing moment, my unease intensifies. Zogar and his men
would eagerly welcome our failure. We must remain vigilant to counter
their devious plans or else, all may be lost.
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter

Eleven

D orothy

I’ ve lost count of the time ever since I was brought into Zogar’s prison. I
stand in a windowless room, my forehead pressed against the grimy stone
wall, listening to my breathing. The walls seem to be closing in on me, and
the stench is suffocating. The dim orange light from the torches is surely
conspiring against me.
As I sit here, I can't help but think about how different this place is from
Vorgath's kingdom. The orcs here are vicious and ruthless, unlike Vorgath's
people who are respectful and kind.
I have learned the hard way that these orcs would not hesitate to hurt me
if they saw fit. I have overheard their conversations, and their way of life is
based on killing and stealing. It's a brutal world, and I don't think I will ever
get used to it.
I miss my life back home terribly, despite my ex-husband Todd’s
existence. He was abusive and caused the start of my panic attacks, and I
left him to start a new life. So I know I am strong and will survive this. At
least here I am away from Todd, which means that hopefully I would never
have to see him again. I am not sure if I want to ever go back to real life,
but one thing I’m convinced of: I want to see Vorgath again.
I keep thinking about him and wondering if he is planning to rescue me
from here.
The longer I stay here, the more I’m learning more about these orcs.
The guards are cruel and heartless, and they take pleasure in inflicting pain
on others. They have no sense of morality or compassion.
I try to hold on to hope, but it's hard in this place. The darkness seems to
seep into my bones, and I feel like it's consuming me. Maybe I’ll never
make it out of here.
I miss the warmth of the sun on my skin and the sound of birds singing
in the trees. I miss the smell of fresh flowers and the taste of sweet fruits. I
imagine myself back in Vorgath's kingdom, surrounded by people who
actually care for me. I try to remember the happiness I felt in that situation
even if I couldn’t explain it then. But this feels surreal and not in a good
way.
The door to my prison cell creaks open, and my heart drops. Two orcs
lumber in, their massive bodies blocking the light from the hallway. I
scramble to my feet, even though there's no point in attempting to run. I'm
trapped.
The first orc is easily over seven feet tall. His skin is a deep green and
his muscles bulge under his armor. His hair is wild and unkempt, and his
tusks are sharp and menacing.
The second orc is shorter, but just as bulky if not more. His skin is a
sickly yellow, and his face is twisted in a permanent sneer. His hair is
shaved, revealing a series of jagged scars on his scalp.
"Time to move, human," the taller orc growls, grabbing my arm roughly
and yanking me toward him.
I try to pull away, but his grip is like a vise. "Where are you taking me?"
I urgently demand. Lately, my panic attacks have been more frequent, but I
must be strong.
The second orc sneers. "Don't worry, we're not going to hurt you... at
least not until we have a go ahead from the castle."
They laugh, then drag me out of the prison. We finally leave the castle
dungeon, proceeding to a higher level. Zogar's residence is rough and
intimidating, with jagged stone walls that seem to loom over me. I can hear
the sounds of screams and moans coming from all around. He probably has
many prisoners here.
The larger orc keeps pushing me forward, making some silly and sexist
remarks. I block his voice from my head, telling myself to keep it together,
but I am so exhausted.
We pass by a large hall and a sickening sight meets my eyes. Huge male
orcs are gripping the throats of smaller female orcs and pushing them down
onto the floor. The females are screaming out in terror and pain while the
males laugh and make crude jokes as they force themselves on their
victims. My stomach wrenches in disgust and I quickly turn away, unable to
bear witness to such a heinous act.
We enter a dark and eerie hall, dimly lit by torches that flicker like the
dying embers of a fire. The walls are adorned with jagged stones and rusty
chains, and the air here too is thick with the stench of decay and blood.
The sounds of moans and groans drift from the shadows. I try to avert
my eyes, but the sight is too ghastly to ignore.
Cages hang from the ceiling, each containing a half-naked female orc,
who is being forcefully mounted by a male orc, in the throes of grunting
and panting in a primal rhythm. The women scream in pain and anguish,
but the abusers only laugh and jeer at them.
The floor is littered with discarded bones and scraps of rotting flesh.
The walls are lined with various torture devices, including iron maidens and
racks, all stained with the blood of victims. The echoes of the screams and
cries of the tortured bounce off the walls, amplifying the horror of the place.
 I must hold back the bile that rises in my throat. How could anyone live
like this and do such things? How could anyone find pleasure in such
cruelty?
My captors mock me as if my disgust is a source of entertainment for
them. They drag me out of the hall and into a dark, narrow passage that
smells damp and moldy.
Something slick gets stuck to the soles of my shoes. A faint glow from
ahead barely illuminates our path, but it isn't enough to cut through the
oppressive darkness that seems to swallow any light.
Finally, we arrive at a set of heavy wooden doors, which creak
ominously as they are pushed open. The room inside is dimly lit by a single
candle, and along with all the other unpleasant odors I smell heavy liquor.
Zogar sits reclined on a throne of skulls, and women orcs draped in gold
chains hang off of him like serpents. His gaze hardens as it meets mine, and
he sports a menacing scowl that sends a chill up and down my spine.
Three female orcs are keeping him company, now standing in front of
him. The first is tall and muscular, with a shaved head and a large scar
running down her cheek. She's wearing leather armor that barely covers her
body and holds a massive ax in her hand. Her eyes are piercing and fierce,
and I can sense a dangerous energy emanating from her.
The second orc is shorter and stockier, with thick arms and legs that
look like they could crush a boulder. Her hair is braided into tight cornrows
and she's wearing a chainmail shirt that clinks with every movement she
makes. She's holding a shield and a mace as if ready for battle.
I wonder what is going on here.
The third orc is the most surprising of all. She's the only one of the three
with long hair, which is braided into intricate designs that must have taken
hours to fashion. Her skin is smooth and unblemished, and her eyes are a
sparkling bright green.
 She's wearing a flowing robe made of silk and velvet, with intricate
embroidery that must have cost a small fortune. Just then I realize what is
happening. This is role play. These girls are here for Zogar’s sexual
amusement.
"Well, well, well," he says, his voice laced with malice. "Look who's
finally graced us with her presence. Vorgath’s whore. Too bad he’s lying in
a ditch somewhere, buried."
"He'll come for me," I say confidently. "Your days are counted and I
will be happy to see you suffer."
Zogar’s laugh echoes off the walls.
"I'm not afraid of Vorgath—never was," he said, standing from his
throne. "And you should forget him. You see, my dear, you're mine now.
My property. And there's nothing your precious Vorgath could ever do
about it."
"You have no right to keep me here," I insist. My knees are shaky but he
doesn’t need to know that.
Zogar shakes his head in amusement. "Oh, okay then, so maybe your
little orc king is not dead.” He waves a dismissive hand and rolls his eyes.
“I have every right to do what I’m doing though. I am the ruler of this
kingdom, and you are my very sweet human prisoner. Besides, this castle is
protected by strong magic. He’s a coward and won’t risk his life or the lives
of his people for an inconsequential bitch like you."
Of course, his aim is to get to me. I shouldn’t let him affect me, yet his
words cut me deep. I have no doubt that Vorgath is doing everything he can
to find me, but Zogar is right in a way. Vorgath won’t risk the lives of others
for me. I am all alone.
He approaches me slowly and gets way too close. "You don’t have to
worry, dear Dorothy. This is your home now. You'll get used to me and the
way I run my kingdom. And who knows? Maybe you'll even start to enjoy
it soon enough." He shrugs.
 Revulsion and panic mingle into a dangerous cocktail within me. It
takes a minute for me to clear my head and brace myself.
Afterward, he walks back to the girls and pulls them closer to him. They
seem to know exactly what to do for they kneel right in front of him and
start caressing his inner thighs. He groans then flicks his cock out. My eyes
widen as I stare at his huge manhood—so veiny, green, and thick. The third
orc woman wraps her hand around his cock and slowly takes it into her
mouth, swallowing as much of the length as she can.
I close my eyes tight because I really don’t want to be looking at this.
The moans of the female orcs reverberate in the room, accompanied by the
sound of Zogar's rough voice commanding them to suck it harder. The
putrid stench of body odor, liquor, and carnal desire assault my nostrils. I
struggle for a few desperate breaths before succumbing to the
overwhelming smell.
I wish I could be anywhere else but here, but I'm forced to watch as
Zogar moves from one orc to the other, taking them roughly and without
care. The women seem to revel in his touch, but I can't understand why. I
shudder at the thought of anyone wanting to be with him, let alone multiple
women at once.
Suddenly, Zogar turns to me and I realize that he's finished with the
other orcs. He moves closer and puts his hand on my thigh.
God, no.
My skin crawls as I promise myself he won’t touch me without my
consent.
When it starts to look like he’s about to kiss me, I spring into action and
sink my teeth into his neck. Zogar lets out a howl of pain. He grips my
shoulders and shoves me so hard, I land on the ground.
"Fucking human bitch!" he roars. I’m filled with satisfaction for his
neck is now bleeding. It doesn’t matter the consequences—only that now he
won’t touch me. "Take her to the dungeon, not her usual cell. That will
teach her how to be obedient. Now!"
So if ‘my usual cell’ looks the way it looks, how much worse is the
dungeon?
The guards grab me and roughly drag me away. I'm still in shock, trying
to process what just happened. Did I really just bite Zogar? Am I going to
be thrown in with violent criminals now? In my short stay here, I have
learned that the dungeon is where hardened criminals are kept.
As we walk through the halls, I see more and more proof of the violence
and depravity of this kingdom. The blood-stained walls, the cries of anguish
coming from every part of the structure.
We go down the stairs and I’m afraid I’m about to give in to the panic.
As we pass by different cells, I catch glimpses of dangerous-looking
prisoners. Some are pacing back and forth like caged animals, while others
are lying on the floor, staring lifelessly at the ceiling. I can feel a few glance
at me with particular interest, and this only adds to the discomfort.
The cells themselves keep the convicts in with thick, yet old and rusted
metal bars. They look like they’ve been here for centuries. Some are empty,
but others hold prisoners who might have been rotting here for a long time.
The smell of decay and filth is even more overwhelming in this space,
making me sick to the stomach.
As I am dragged past a particular cell, I see a figure crouched in the
corner, their back to me. They're covered in ragged clothing and their hair is
long and unkempt. I can't see the face, but I can hear the faint sounds of
sobbing.
In the next cell sits a muscular figure with scars covering his bare chest.
He's chained to the wall with heavy iron cuffs and his eyes dart up to me as
I pass. He's snarling and growling like a feral animal, his hair is matted and
his face is twisted in an expression of unadulterated hatred.
 The one I am looking at now is the most disturbing. I can hear the soft
whimpering of a young female orc. She's sitting in the corner, her knees
pulled up to her chest, and her eyes are red from crying. Her hair is tangled
and filthy, and her skin is covered in bruises and cuts.
She looks up at me and her eyes widen with fear. She’s silently begging
me to help her, but there's nothing I can do. A lump forms in my throat as I
look away from her heartbreaking gaze.
The farther we go, the more terrifying things get. The inmates are wild-
eyed and desperate … mad, even. I can't help but wonder what horrible
crimes they committed to end up here, and I pray I'll never have to find out.
Finally, we stop before a single tiny cell. The orc guards open the door,
and when I glance to my right I see a figure inside the neighboring cell. The
individual inside is chained to the wall with heavy iron shackles. His head
hangs on his chest and for a split second I think he must have been dead for
a while because the smell is horrendous. Panic grips me but then I notice
the faint rise and fall of their chest. The cell is too dark for me to see their
face, but at least he is alive. Barely.
“I don’t think Zogar meant this part of the dungeon,” one of the guards
whispers to the other, throwing a glance at the chained prisoner.
“He didn’t specify and he won’t know,” the other one reasoned before
pushing me inside.
I have no idea what they are talking about, and immediately the oxygen
leaves my lungs. I am overwhelmed by how cramped the space is, with
barely enough room for me to stand upright. The walls all around are
covered in greenish-brown moss, with scattered patches of cobweb. A thick
layer of dirt blankets the floor, mixed with tiny pieces of broken glass and
discarded food. The musty odor of sweat, urine, and feces permeates
through the air.
"Good luck spending some time with the deadliest inmate in the
dungeon," one of the guards says in a joking tone. “Don’t worry, he won’t
get out of his cell. He injured two guards and killed another inmate. If
you're lucky, he will be dead by morning.”
I get closer to the bars, staring ahead and wondering if the chained up
monster is really that dangerous. I learned the hard way not to trust the
words of any guards around here, but suddenly I feel like I can’t breathe
again. This can’t be happening now.
"At least give him some water. He doesn't deserve this!" I yell, trying to
distract myself from another looming panic attack.
They ignore me and only keep laughing as they slowly begin to walk
away. I keep screaming at them to stop, but they are soon out of sight.
I sit on the floor and drag my hands over my face, telling myself to calm
down. Everything is going to be all right and this is just another cell. I try
not to think about the inmate in the next cell. Maybe if I don't disturb him
and cause him unnecessary discomfort, he will not be a problem.
As I lie down on the hard, cold floor, forgetting about the lack of
cleanliness, I keep on breathing so my panic melts away.
I quiet my mind and focus, but the sounds in the dungeon are too
overwhelming. I can hear the distant screams and cries of other prisoners,
the shuffling of footsteps, and the clanging of metal. The shadows seem to
dance around me, mocking me with their eerie movements.
Time passes, so slowly. I don't know how long I have been stuck in the
cell, but it feels like an eternity.
I am hungry, thirsty, and exhausted, but I can't sleep. Every time I close
my eyes, I see the faces of the orc guards, mocking and laughing at me.
Also, I am afraid that if I sleep, the inmate in the next cell will die and
somehow I feel I can’t let this happen. I don’t know him at all—he might be
as dangerous as the guards claim—but I feel obligated to help him.
My mind wanders to Vorgath once more. Does he know where I am?
Will he ever come for me? I try to hold on to the hope that he will, but it
feels like a thin thread that could snap at any moment.
 I sit in the darkness, listening to the sound of my own heavy breathing,
something I’ve been doing a lot of since my capture. I might be trapped in
this dungeon forever, surrounded by violent criminals and at the mercy of
Zogar.
As the hours pass, I feel my resolve crumbling. The thought of spending
the rest of my life here, alone and forgotten, spins me into yet another panic
attack. I try to cling to hope but it's slipping away from me with each
passing moment.
I close my eyes to shut out the cruel voices, but I can still feel the
dampness of the dungeon seeping into my skin. I wonder if this is where I'll
spend the rest of my days. Forgotten, alone, and trapped.
For an eternity, I lie curled up on the cold, hard ground, weeping quietly
to myself. My mind races with fear and anxiety as I contemplate what
horrors may await me in this dungeon.
Eventually, my tears start to subside and I take a deep breath. For a
minute, I forget there is another monster in the cell next to mine—a monster
who might be dying. At least I should be grateful that I am not injured like
that orc the next cell over. And I am going to try to talk to him. No matter
how dangerous he may be, we are very close to each other here and maybe I
can encourage him to keep going. He needs to know he’s not alone.
"Hello?" I call out. "How are you holding up out there?"
No response. I will try again. "Can you hear me?" I ask.
Still nothing.
I try to speak with the inmate again. I still can’t see him from where I
am but I can hear the sound of his heavy breathing. He hasn’t said anything
or made any sound. He must be just lying in his cell, motionless and silent.
I take a few deep breaths and attempt to talk to the inmate again.
"Please, I know you can hear me. Say something," I press, my voice
shaking. But again, he doesn’t respond. It is as if he has given up on life, or
maybe he is just too bored and tired to do anything. I don’t know what is
going on with him but I can’t blame him. This place can do that to someone
and I do not know how long he has been here.
The silence is deafening. My thoughts start racing and my heartbeat
increases. I can’t help but think again about how much I miss my old life.
Despite Todd's abuse, at least I had some sort of normalcy. Here, in this
dungeon, there is nothing normal. Everything is twisted, dark, and cruel.
The place is alive, with a mind of its own. Shadows move around me
and I feel like I am being watched. But I am not sure if it is all in my head
or if they are real.
I open my eyes and sniff the air. Ugh. How long until I’m forced to use
my cell as a toilet?
So is this how it will end, then? All of us left here to die, in this
godforsaken place.

I wake up to the sound of the heavy metal door screeching open. I'm lying
on the cold, hard ground, my body aching from the lack of movement. It's
definitely been a few days since I've been thrown into this hellhole, and I've
been fed only once a day with the most disgusting and inedible food I've
ever eaten. The inmate in the next cell still hasn't uttered a single word,
which only adds to the torment of my solitude. He is still alive because I
can hear his heavy breathing, but that doesn’t mean he won’t die soon.
I sit up as the guard throws in a bowl of slop, which splatters onto the
ground. The bastard snickers. "Enjoy your meal, princess." I want to offer
some kind of sarcastic comeback, but it's all pointless. These orcs thrive on
tormenting their prisoners, and I am no exception.
After the guard leaves, I start to get up to straighten my legs, but the
space is so small. I don’t think I can eat anything right now. I feel powerless
and helpless, but I need to do something if I want to survive.
 As I sit there, the bad memories start filling my head. My heart rate
picks up, albeit erratically, and I feel like my chest cracks open. My
breathing becomes shallow and labored, and the tightness in my chest
makes it hard to take in the air.
Sweat begins to form heavily on my forehead and my hands start to
shake uncontrollably. My palms are slick, and I can feel my whole body
trembling as if it were an earthquake.
My head feels like it's about to explode with the flood of thoughts and
emotions swirling around inside of it. My thoughts become jumbled and
incoherent, and I can't seem to focus on anything. My breathing technique
only makes me feel more lightheaded and out of control. I am having a full
blown panic attack like before!
As the panic attack continues, my stomach twists and turns, and I feel a
sudden urge to vomit. My throat feels tight, as though something is trying to
choke me, and my legs are weak and unsteady. I can barely hold myself up
and fear I might collapse at any moment.
Suddenly, a vivid image of Todd flashes in my mind, and I'm taken back
to a time when I was trapped in this marriage where he constantly hit and
bit the shit out of me. I can hear his voice in my head, calling me names and
belittling me, telling me that I'm worthless and nobody would ever love me.
My hands clench into fists as I remember the way he swung me around,
beat me up, and used me in the bedroom whenever he felt like it. I'm back
in our living room, watching as he looms over me, his fists clenched and
ready to strike.
I'm lucky to have him, he growls, and I should be grateful for all he's
done for me. I try to block out his voice but it's like a never-ending loop in
my mind, tormenting me with memories of my past.
My mind travels to a particular day. I am suddenly back and alive in our
living room, and Todd is yelling at me, "You're worthless, Dorothy! You'll
never amount to anything!" I'm cowering in a corner, trying to protect
myself from his fists.
I hear him coming toward me, and I brace myself for the blow. "Please,
Todd, stop!" I plead with him, but he only laughs and continues to hit me.
The memories flood back, and I can't escape the pain and the fear.
I snap back to reality, but the panic attack continues to grip me. My
chest feels tight, and I struggle to breathe. I try to calm down, but it only
makes it worse. I feel like I'm suffocating, and I can't escape the memories
of my past. I slowly slip into unconsciousness.
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter

Twelve

V orgath

T he loud , erratic breathing and familiar voice pulls me away from the
darkness. I force myself to open my eyes and use my muscles, but every
cell in my body is burning. Slowly I move, only to discover that I am
chained to the wall.
Memories flood my mind when I try to piece together what has
happened to me…
We were captured by Zogar's men and our perfect plan started out right
but then backfired. Was I poisoned? Was there a witch or another female in
the camp?
All my memories are so hazy. What happened to me? What have Zogar
orcs done to me? I can't fucking remember.
As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I notice I am in a small, cramped
space but there is another prisoner in the next cell—a female.
My vision blurs and my arms shake as I yank on the heavy chains.
Every muscle in my body is aflame and sweat pours from my forehead. I
release an animalistic roar, frustrated to the point of insanity.
 I force my mind to go over what happened. I force myself to remember
and at last it works…
So we were all brought to Zogar's kingdom. I faintly remember the
towering walls, the guards patrolling the ramparts, and the immense gates
that creaked open to let us in.
As I was dragged into Zogar's castle alongside two of my brothers,
Grimgar and Grommash, I felt a sense of utter disgust at the state of this
wretched but massive kingdom. This is not how a territory like this should
be run. Our kingdom, in comparison, is a haven for its citizens, with
everything in its rightful place.
As we were brought into the castle, nobody recognized us as the royals
of the enemy kingdom.
My first impression was that Zogar’s castle is a sight to behold, but not
in a good way. A place in disarray, with no order or structure to it. The
walls are stained with dirt and grime, and the floors are littered with debris.
The people I came across moved around with hastened steps, but not
with purpose or direction. Malnourished and weak with hollow eyes and
cheeks, they seemed to be scurrying around like rats, unsure of where they
were going or what they were doing. The guards’ armor was rusted and
dented, a testament to their neglectful upkeep.
The desperation was palpable.
All over the place, the pungent aroma of death and despair hangs heavy
in the air and a cacophony of wails would likely pierce through concrete.
Everywhere I looked before being locked up, I was confronted with
desolation and wretchedness—an oppressive atmosphere that weighed
down on me like a thousand bricks.
The absolute horror of this place is overwhelming and my revulsion for
it is almost unbearable.
The castle walls around me now are made of stone, but they are worn
down and crumbling, as if they have been neglected for centuries. There is
little light, natural or otherwise, without windows. This is merely a relic of
a bygone era that has been left to die.
When we were brought in, I overheard my brothers muttering amongst
themselves. They were angry, and rightly so, but I hope they’ve been biding
their time and acting the way they’re supposed to.
The guards stripped us and took our weapons. I was tempted to kill
them all, but I couldn’t afford missteps.
I let them treat me like a rat while I assessed my surroundings. A patch-
eyed orc who looked like a general fixed me with his good eye, his
expression loaded with malice. The orc’s skin was a deep shade of green,
and his muscular arms were adorned with tattoos of ancient orcish symbols.
His black hair was tied back in a tight ponytail, and his beard was braided
in intricate patterns.
"Take them to the witch," he told the orcs who brought us in. "She’s
going to take care of them. They need to be spellbound. We need to make
sure they’re not communicating with anyone inside or outside of here."
And there was the first dent to our plan. I know what fate awaits us if
we cannot communicate with our fellow orcs—especially Throgg. I’d heard
about witches from Zogar's kingdom—beings known for their cruelty and
ability to torture their victims for hours on end.
If this happened, it would be our downfall.
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter

Thirteen

V orgath

I grunt when I shift position inside my cell. Every little movement hurts.
But despite the intense pain I’m in, I remember it all now…
The orcs handed us our prisoner garb and escorted us out of the
processing chamber. At one point I was able to hear the sounds of war
drums and the clanging of swords. Training for battle.
We were led to the witch's lair, where the walls crawled with a tangible
dread and a cold fog settled over us. Even the air seemed to whisper
warnings as we approached for this place held secrets too horrifying and too
dark for an ordinary orc to learn.
The memories rush to me in vivid hues. The room was lit with several
colors generated from nothing in particular. Likely magic. There, it smelled
like incense and herbs. The sound of a distant chanting could be heard in
the background.
The walls were covered in dark tapestries, depicting scenes of battle and
conquest, twisted and distorted by the witch's own peculiar aesthetic. The
tapestries were framed with strange symbols and runes, carved into the
fabric in intricate patterns. The floor was made of dark stone, worn smooth
by the passing of countless feet over the years.
In the center of the room stood a large round table surrounded by four
high-back chairs, the surface dressed in a black cloth embroidered with
silver thread in a pattern of stars and moons. On the table sat several small,
ornate boxes, each carved from a different type of wood and inlaid with
precious metals and stones.
The place gave me the creeps.
In one corner I noticed a tall wooden cabinet with glass doors. Inside it,
the shelves were laden with jars and bottles, each filled with strange and
exotic ingredients, no doubt.
A large cauldron occupied a space beside it, filled with a simmering
liquid that emitted a noxious odor.
The overall effect of the witch's chambers on my brothers and me was
one of unease and foreboding. It became fast clear that the witch, a tall,
slender orc with wavy jet-black hair and glowing green eyes, is a powerful
and malevolent figure.
She approached us in her long, flowing silk robe, her fingers adorned
with silver rings. The witch eyed us with a mixture of amusement and
contempt.
"Ah, my little pets," she sneered. "What brings you to my humble
abode?" Her voice sounded like nails on a chalkboard, and I found myself
suppressing a wince.
The orcs who brought us here explained the general's orders, and the
witch nodded in understanding. "Very well. I will make you mute. So let's
have a little fun. All of you are so handsome and strong."
The witch produced a small vial filled with a dark liquid and held it up
to my nose before I could act. The smell was so overpowering, my head
started to spin.
 She began to recite strange words in a foreign language, her voice rising
and falling in a hypnotic rhythm. The power of her magic pulsed through
the air, like towering waves of energy.
I attempted to struggle against the ropes that bound me, but the magic
was too strong and my strength was ebbing away.
As the witch continued to chant, I felt a strange sensation in my throat,
something constricting my vocal cords, preventing me from speaking. I
tried to cry out, but all that came out was a hoarse croak.
The witch gestured for us to stand in a circle, and my brothers and I
obediently complied as though under a compulsion. She began to move
around us, again chanting in a foreign language. The words were strange
and guttural, resonating deep in my bones.
The room itself began to shift and warp. The walls stretched and bent,
and I felt as if I was being pulled in a hundred different directions at once.
My head spun harder and my brothers swayed beside me.
And then the chanting reached a crescendo, at which point the witch
raised her arms to the sky. I tried to speak, to shout out in protest through
the pain in my throat, to no avail.
My brothers’ faces contorted in confusion and fear, and I realized then
we'd been cursed. The witch took away our voices, leaving us mute and
powerless.
The witch sported a look of cold satisfaction. "You'll be much more
obedient now," she said, her voice dripping with malice. "You won't be able
to speak, plot, or scheme. You'll be my playthings and I'll do with you as I
please."
I yearned to lash out, to attack the bitch and break her curse. But
without my voice, I became powerless. Besides, I couldn’t risk slipping and
let her discover my identity.
I watched in horror as she repeated the ritual with my brothers, one after
the other. They fought and writhed against the force of her magic, but in the
end, they too were silenced.
The witch cackled with delight. This must have been a sport to her. No
wonder she worked for Zogar—two peas in a pod.
When we left the witch’s chambers, I was separated from my brothers—
another dent in our carefully crafted strategy.
After that, I landed in this stinking cell…
For hours, I’ve been in here, bound and trapped. I soon realized with a
sinking feeling that this is not a normal dungeon. The walls carry strange,
intricate symbols etched into them. The air is thick with the scent of
incense, and the flickering torch light seems to pulse and dance around me.
Waves of dizziness wash over me again and again. It's as if the very air
I'm breathing is infused with some kind of magic. I stumble to the ground,
my head spinning, and I realize the witch has done something more to us to
make sure we are left weak and powerless.
I try to shake off the feeling and struggle to my feet, but my legs feel
like they're made of jelly. I can barely stand, let alone fight. I slump against
the wall, feeling helpless and alone.
Time passes in a blur. I'm not sure how long I've been here, but it feels
like days. I hear the sounds of other orcs in nearby cells, but I can't make
out what they're saying. The words seem muffled and distorted, as if they're
coming from a great distance.
I try to call out to my brothers, to see if they're here with me, but my
voice comes out as a hoarse whisper.
I’ve never felt this defeated. I'm alone in this strange place, with no way
to communicate or defend myself. The witch has stripped me of everything
that makes me who I am.
W hen I finally wake up from this nightmare for the umpteenth time, I let
out what should have been a roar and pull on my chains. My head is
pounding, but I suddenly realize I am no longer alone.
My mind starts racing as I inhale the familiar scent. I glance around the
small dark cell, my eyes finally adjusting to the darkness. I take several
long breaths and hear a loud scream, followed by sobs. It takes me a few
moments to recognize the voice, but then it hits me.
Dorothy—it’s her voice, her cries, her sobs that slowly break my heart.
The thought of her being in this dungeon and suffering like this makes my
blood boil.
As her distress grows louder and more urgent, my heart fills with fear
and desperation. I struggle against the chains that bind me, my muscles
straining with the effort. The metal digs into my skin but I ignore the pain,
driven by my need to reach to her and console her. My breathing becomes
ragged as I yank and pull. The metal groans under the pressure. The chains
resist me, but I refuse to give up. I envision myself breaking free, the sound
of snapping metal ringing in my ears.
Suddenly, the chains give way with a deafening crack as I yank them off
the wall, freeing myself. I stagger back, almost losing my balance before
lunging forward and pulling the bars apart with everything I have in me. At
this point I don’t think or analyze anything—I just want to get to Dorothy.
I must have broken a few bones because my arm is twisted in the wrong
angle, but I don’t feel any pain or discomfort with all the adrenaline
coursing through my veins.
Breathing hard, I rush to her cell and pull at the bars with my bleeding
hands. The weight of the chains on my arms slows me down, but I am
finally inside. The sight of her on the ground, her body wracked with
tremors, fills me with a fierce protectiveness. She is rocking back and
forward, screaming. I lift her into my arms, relishing the heat of her skin
against mine. Her breath comes in short gasps, and I can see the terror in
her eyes. Holding her tight, I dig my fingers into her flesh as I try to soothe
her.
It kills me that I am still spellbound and I can’t tell her she’s safe, but I
hope that the way I’m holding her will convey the message. It takes her a
while to recognize me or my scent, but slowly her breathing evens out and
her grip on me loosens. She clutches at the fabric of my clothes, seeking
comfort. I hold her close, my heart pounding with a fierce tenderness. She's
everything to me—if ever I had any misgivings, not anymore—and I'll do
anything to protect her. The thought of losing her sends a surge of rage
through me, and I want nothing more than to torture Zogar until he begs me
to end him.
For now, though, all that matters is her. I kiss her forehead, feeling her
soft skin against my lips, while I contend with the magic wreaking havoc
inside me. In this moment, she needs to realize that I am here for her, and
nothing will ever change that. I will always protect her.
The pressure is building up inside of me—I can’t take it anymore. My
heart starts racing, my blood thunders in my ears. My fear is mixed with an
overpowering sense of frustration and anger, as well as the need to be heard.
So I let out a scream, my lungs pushing out all of my emotions into one
loud wail of desperation. I cry out until my throat feels dry and my voice is
hoarse.
I then nervously clear my throat, and it feels like a thunderbolt has
broken through the tension. I make eye contact with my Dorothy and just
like that, the energy shifts and the witch’s spell is finally broken.
“It’s all right. It’s me and I am here for you, little one,” I say, barely
recognising my own voice.
She's looking at me with a mixture of shock and relief, but I don’t think
she recognizes me. Maybe I have imagined this. She still has no idea who I
am.
 And then, just as suddenly as my voice returning, the door to the cell
opens and a guard shows up.
“What the fuck is going on in here?” he roars, holding a sword in his
right hand. I turn to face him, ready to strike because I am out of control,
filled with rage and a need for spilling blood.
"Well, well, well," he says. "Looks like you two are getting cozy."
The guard takes a step forward, reaching out to grab Dorothy, but I
move like lightning. I yank her away from him and hold her shaking body
close to me.
“Touch her again and I'll rip your arms off and beat you to death with
them!”
The guard charges at me with a menacing growl, swinging his fists as
though trying to break a wall. I duck and dodge, but some of the blows land
with an agonizing thud that rattles my bones. My adrenaline surges as I
launch my own attacks, feeling every hit travel through my body as I push
us both out of the cramped cell. The cold metal chains drag at my wrists,
making it difficult to maneuver or escape. Still, I muster up all of my
strength and fight back, determined not to be defeated.
Despite my best efforts, the guard gains the upper hand and pins me
against the wall with his massive arms. I struggle against him, but his grip
is too tight. I can feel the breath leaving my body as he tightens his grip
around my neck. It's then that I notice a shard of glass glinting on the
ground near my feet. I grab it, hoping it will give me the edge I need to turn
the tide of the fight.
With a sudden burst of energy, I lunge forward and plunge the shard into
the guard's side. He grunts in pain and releases his hold on me, staggering
backward. Taking advantage of his weakened state, I deliver a series of
quick, precise blows, knocking him to the ground. I can hear her cries of
fear behind me, but I can't let myself be distracted. I have to finish this.
 With a final, deadly strike, I end the guard's life. Panting heavily, I stare
at the lifeless body lying in front of me. My knuckles are bruised and my
muscles ache, but at least the bastard is dead.
My victory is short-lived though, for I hear the sound of footsteps
coming down the hallway. I brace myself for the next fight, catching my
breath. The door opens and another guard steps into the cell block space—a
tall, muscular orc with a thick, bushy beard. He throws me a fierce,
belligerent gaze. He will stop at nothing to take me down.
The guard lunges at me but I dodge to the side, striking him with a
quick blow. He retaliates, and we exchange blows once again. My muscles
ache with exhaustion, but I keep pushing, fighting. I can hear Dorothy's
ragged breathing behind me, and I know I have to end this quickly.
We circle each other warily, our eyes locked in a deadly stare down. I
grab a sword from the dead guy and take a swing, but he counters with a
swift kick that catches me off guard.
I stumble backward, trying to regain my balance, but he is on me again,
raining blows down on me with his sword. I block them as best I can, but
my strength is slipping away, my arms growing heavy with fatigue.
My efforts seem to have little effect on him. He is a formidable
opponent, and I will have to use all my skill and cunning to defeat him.
We fight for what seems like an eternity, each blow landing with bone-
crushing force. I can feel the sweat pouring down my face, my breath
coming in ragged gasps. But I refuse to give up, even as I feel my body
growing weaker and weaker.
With a sudden burst of energy, I strike the guard's sword, knocking it
out of his hand. He's left defenseless, so I seize the opportunity to deliver a
deadly blow. I sink the sword into his flesh and he collapses to the ground,
dead.
It's just me and Dorothy now, and we have to get out of here. I go to
take her hand and help her stand. Fear emanates from her in waves, but I
can't let myself be scared. I have to be strong for both of us.
She groans and rubs her head, her eyes fluttering open as she tries to
make sense of her surroundings. I watch her closely, my muscles tensing as
I prepare for any sudden movements. But then she looks at me, and her
expression changes. She seems to recognize me, and I see a spark of
something in her eyes.
Without a second thought she reaches out to me, her lips parted
invitingly. I take her in my arms and push her against the wall, pressing my
lips to hers. Her scent overwhelms me and I devour her like a starved man.
She moans into my mouth, making me feel so alive. Fire courses
through us as we become lost in each other's embrace. My hands roam over
her body, exploring every inch of her as we kiss. The heat between us
grows more intense with each passing moment, and I could lose myself
completely in her.
But then the door to our cell is thrown open and several more orcs troop
in, their eyes fixed on us. I grunt and break away from Dorothy, my heart
racing as I prepare for the worst. They sneer at us, their threat real.
“Seriously now? How many of you do I have to fight?” I curse out loud.
"You shouldn’t touch the human. She belongs to Zogar!" one of them
snarls, gripping the hilt of his sword.
Bloodlust consumes me, my muscles coiled and ready as the first guard
charges at me, his sword glinting in the dim light. I sidestep his attack and
break the chains with his blade, then hit him hard with them. This catches
him off guard. He staggers back, his eyes widening in surprise as blood
wells up from the wound on his arm.
I take his sword.
I have no time to savor my victory for the next guard is upon me, his
own sword whistling through the air. I block his attack with ease, my sword
flashing out in a lightning-fast riposte that catches him in the shoulder. He
grunts in pain, but still he presses on, his sword swinging in a wild arc that I
barely manage to dodge.
The fight goes on, one guard after another falling to my blade as I fight
with a fury born of desperation. They wound me occasionally, their swords
biting into my flesh and sending waves of pain through my body. But still I
fight on, my eyes fixed on the next opponent, my heart pounding in my
chest.
And then, just when it seems as though I might emerge victorious, yet
more guards troop into the room, their swords held high and their faces
twisted in rage. I grit my teeth, my muscles trembling with exhaustion as I
face them down.
But even as they surround me, I know that I cannot give up. I am here to
protect Dorothy and will not be defeated so easily. With a roar, I attack, my
sword flashing out in deadly arcs that catch the enemies off guard.
They fight back with a ferocity that surprises me, their swords whistling
through the air in a deadly dance that I struggle to keep up with for my
wounds are beginning to take their toll. But I continue to push myself to the
brink of exhaustion.
And then, with a sudden surge of energy, I make my move. I feint to the
left, moving my sword in a quick flick that catches one guard in the chest.
He staggers back, his eyes wide with shock, then falls dead.
The other guards hesitate for a moment, their eyes fixed on their fallen
comrade. And in that moment of hesitation, I strike. I deliver a series of
lightning-fast strikes that catch them off guard, and they fall to the ground
one by one, their bodies twitching for a moment, then going still.
But even as I emerge victorious, I know that more guards will come.
And so I steel myself for the next battle, my muscles trembling with
exhaustion but my heart still burning with a fierce determination to survive.
As I take a brief moment to catch my breath after the intense battle, I
glance over at Dorothy. I can see he's very shaken and we both know we
haven’t got much time.
My heart aches at the sight of her like this, and I feel a pang of guilt for
dragging her into this dangerous situation.
I take a step closer to her, studying her closely. Her face is twisted in
terror, her eyes wide and pleading as she looks up at me. I can see the fear
etched deep in her features, the way her lower lip quivers, and her eyes dart
around the room, as if searching for a way out.
I reach out to her, my rough hand cupping her cheek as I try to calm her
down. "It's okay," I whisper, my voice low and gentle. "We'll get out of
here. I won't let anything happen to you."
"I didn't know it was you," she says, "How long have you been here?"
Her eyes gloss over. Is she crying?
"It doesn't matter now. We can talk later. I'll get us out, I promise."
But even as I try to reassure her, I am fully aware the danger is far from
over. More guards will come and we'll have to fight our way out of here.
But for now, I focus on Dorothy, taking time to study her every expression.
And my heart shatters one more time.
OceanofPDF.com
 Chapter

Fourteen

D orothy

M y heart pounds in my chest as Vorgath fights his way through the guards
in Zogar's kingdom.
The guards are no match for his strength and skill, but they keep
coming, wave after wave. He is weak and only after a moment do I realize
that he must have broken out of his chains when I was in the midst of my
panic attack.
I do my best to stay out of the way, dodging blows and trying to stay
alive. Vorgath roars with fury as he fights, his muscles rippling with every
movement. I've never seen him like this before, and I'm both terrified and
awestruck.
I watch in horror as Vorgath fights his way through another set of
guards. He is like a force of nature.
The clang of swords fills the air, and I can smell the sweat and fear
coming off the guards. They're shouting and yelling, trying to overwhelm
Vorgath with their sheer numbers. But he's holding his own, fighting back
with a savagery that's both thrilling and terrifying.
 I'm not much of a fighter, but I do my best to help. I grab a nearby
object and swing it at one of the guards, catching him off guard. He
stumbles, and I seize the opportunity to make a run for it, following Vorgath
as he fights his way outside the dungeon.
It's a brutal, bloody fight, and it’s hard to watch. Every time Vorgath
lands a blow, I feel a surge of hope. But the guards keep coming, and I'm
starting to wonder if we'll ever make it out of here alive.
Finally, we manage to dodge the rest of the guards and run through the
narrow passage, hopefully towards the exit—but we're not out of the woods
yet. Vorgath suggests that we release the inmates so they can cause a
distraction for the guards. It's a risky move, but we don't have much choice.
"It will help us get away," he says. "We need as much help as we can
get. I can't tackle them all on my own."
"Okay," I say, "Let's do this."
We head back to the cell and Vorgath smashes a big hammer he took
from the guards on the locks, releasing the inmates.
The sound of the locks breaking echoes through the dungeon, and I can
hear the inmates stirring. They're shouting and yelling, and I can smell the
sweat and fear coming off of them.
More guards appear, running toward us with swords drawn. I clutch
Vorgath's arm, my heart pounding with fear. Just as the guards are about to
catch up with us, there's a sudden explosion and everything falls apart. I feel
it before I hear it, a deafening blast that sends me and Vorgath flying. When
we land on the stone floor, my ears ring and my head throbs. For a moment,
everything goes black.
Then I wake up, gasping for air while stars dance in front of my eyes.
Slowly, my vision clears and I see Vorgath lying beside me, his eyes
fluttering open.
I reach out to touch him, my hand shaking. "Are you okay?" I croak out.
 He nods, his eyes wide. He reaches out and tenderly touches a bleeding
spot on my face. I wince. "Zogar must have sent his witch and she used
magic against us," he says, his voice shaky. "You’re bleeding."
"I will be fine," I say through gritted teeth, my mind still foggy from the
explosion. My body feels like one giant bruise.
We struggle to our feet. I’m unsteady and my ears are still ringing. I
can't hear anything except the sound of my own breath.
He looks at me with concern etched on his face. "Are you sure you're
okay? Maybe I should carry you," he asks again.
“No. You’re too weak. You need your strength,” I respond. My head is
pounding and I feel like I might pass out at any moment. But I can't let him
worry about me. I need to be strong for the both of us.
His face turns grim. The guards are lying around us, unconscious. I
blink, disoriented, and then a thought hits me. What if it wasn’t Zogar’s
witch that created the chaos? What if someone caused the explosion to take
out the guards and give us a chance to escape?
I look up at Vorgath, my heart racing.
"We need to get out of here," he says.
Hand in hand, we set off down the dark, winding passages of the
dungeon, our footsteps echoing on the stone floor.
We pass by other cells, some empty and some still occupied but we have
no time to stop and see if anyone is wounded. If the cells are intact, it is
likely the occupant is fine, at least as much as they can be in a place like
this. I'm still reeling from the fight with the guards, and the soreness I feel
slows me down a little.
Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind us. I turn around to see a lean and
malnourished orc walking toward us.
His face is gaunt, his cheekbones prominent, and his sunken eyes are
partially hidden behind the tangled mess of his hair. He is dressed in a
prison uniform that hangs loosely on his body and his skin is pale, with
bruises and scars visible on his arms and face.
He lobs his gaze between Vorgath and me, and I can sense the hesitation
in his movements.
As he gets closer, it becomes apparent that his clothing is torn and
tattered, with bits of straw and dirt clinging to it. He must have been here
for a very long time. His skin is covered in a thin layer of grime, and his
body odor is a mix that turns my stomach. He looks like he hasn't eaten a
proper meal in days.
Despite his worn-out appearance, he seems quite alert.
"Who are you?" Vorgath demands, his tone firm and harsh.
The orc takes a deep breath and steps forward. "My name is Gorth," he
says. "I'm from your kingdom, Vorgath. I recognize you."
Vorgath’s expression turns to surprise. "What are you doing here?" he
asks, his voice softer now.
Gorth looks around nervously before speaking. "I was captured by
Zogar's forces a long time ago, before the war started," he says. "But when I
heard you were here, I knew this was my way out. I want to help." He nods
and swallows.
“How do you propose to do that?” Vorgath asks.
"If we're going to escape without being caught, we'll need to bypass the
main routes. I know of a tunnel that can take us directly to the boundary
line but we will have to pass through part of Zogar's territory."
Vorgath hesitates for a moment. He knows that following Gorth is risky,
but he also knows we don't have many options.
"I don't know if we can trust you," he finally says.
Gorth looks hurt but determined. "You have no choice," he says—which
is true. "If you want to escape, you'll have to trust me."
I step forward, placing a hand on Vorgath's arm. "We don't have much
time," I say. "We have to take our chances."
 After a moment of silence, Vorgath nods. "Lead the way," he says, and
Gorth takes us deeper into the dungeon.
We meet a few guards on the way but with Gorth's help, Vorgath is able
to dispatch them quickly and quietly. We move through the back of the
castle, avoiding the main areas and sticking to the shadows. The air reeks of
smoke and I spot the orange glow of flames in the distance.
Gorth leads us to a small orc village. My heart aches as I witness the
poverty and destitution of Zogar’s people. The houses are shabby and
ramshackle, made of wood and straw, with leaking roofs and broken
windows. The streets are littered with trash and debris, and the stench of
sewage and rotting food is overpowering.
"What kind of monster rules like this?" I say out loud.
"This is nothing compared to the slums on the outskirts of the city,"
Gorth replies. "It's a shit show over there," he adds.
I’m sure we both want to ask Gorth how he knows this, seeing that our
people aren’t welcome in Zogar’s kingdom, but this is not the time. We took
the risk, so now we must keep going.
I shake my head as I witness children running around barefoot and
clothed in rags, their faces grimy and sad. They look sickly, with sunken
eyes and protruding ribs.
The women are dressed in tattered clothing, some with babies on their
backs, haggard from the daily struggle of trying to feed their families.
The market we stumble upon is small and meager, with only a few
vendors selling their wares. The fruits and vegetables are scarce, and the
meat looks unappetizing and is probably of questionable quality. The few
people milling around look thin and frail and gaunt.
It's a stark contrast to Vorgath’s domain where the people are well-fed,
healthy, and happy. The streets are clean and well-maintained, and the
houses are sturdy and well-built. The market in Vorgath's kingdom is
bustling and vibrant, with vendors selling fresh produce, meat, and baked
goods. The people are smiling and laughing, and the sweet aroma of
flowers and herbs perfume the air.
We approach another small market that is bustling with activity. Orcs
are haggling with each other over various goods, and someone is roasting
meat. A few guards are walking around, and a twinge of fear grows in my
gut.
Gorth leads us around the market, avoiding the guards and their prying
eyes. We pass by a stall selling strange fruits and vegetables that I've never
seen before, and I note a few villagers eyeing us suspiciously. I try to blend
in as much as possible, but our prison uniforms give us away.
As we make our way toward the tunnel, we encounter a few more
guards. Vorgath and Gorth take them out with fluid and practiced speed.
Even Gorth who appears weak seems quite skilled at combat.
Finally, we reach the entrance to the tunnel. It's dark and damp, with
water dripping from the ceiling, mildew clinging to the walls. Taking out a
candle and lighting it, making me wonder how he could be so prepared,
Gorth leads us through it, his movements sure and steady.
As we walk on, a sense of dread washes over me. Large cracks run
along the walls and it seems to stretch infinitely into the distance. I wonder
if any strange creatures live here.
Gorth seems unfazed, however, and leads the way confidently. Vorgath
is close behind, his grip on my hand reassuring.
For a while the terrain is treacherous, the ground uneven and slippery. I
struggle to keep my balance, but Vorgath's strong arm helps me steady
myself.
As we go deeper into the tunnel, the darkness becomes overwhelming. I
can barely see a few feet in front of me, and every sound echoes and
reverberates, making it impossible to tell where it's coming from.
Vorgath's voice breaks through my thoughts. "Don't worry, little one,"
he whispers. "I am here with you. Nothing will harm you while I am by
your side."
His words give me strength, and I steel myself for what lies ahead.
We walk for what feels like hours, the air growing increasingly damp
and musty.
The tunnel finally begins to narrow, and the walls close in around us. I
feel claustrophobic and can't shake the feeling of being trapped.
The darkness engulfs us. The only light source is the faint glow of the
light in Gorth’s hand. We walk for what seems like forever, the damp walls
pressing in on us. I can hear the sound of dripping water and the scurrying
of rodents in the darkness.
Suddenly, Gorth stops and points to a small opening ahead. "This is it,"
he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "The part of the tunnel that will
lead us out of Zogar's kingdom."
A sliver of light becomes visible in the distance. As we get closer, I
begin to make out shapes moving in the shadows. Suddenly, I freeze upon
hearing the sound of footsteps approaching.
"Get ready," Vorgath whispers, unsheathing his sword.
Suddenly, a pack of creatures emerges from the shadows, snarling and
snapping at us with their sharp teeth. They look similar to wolves but are
wider and bigger than any other creature I have ever seen.
Definitely larger than ordinary wolves, with thick, matted fur that
shimmers in the dim light. Their eyes glow like embers and their jaws are
lined with sharp, gleaming teeth that look like they could tear through steel.
As they snarl and bare their teeth, my heart pounds in my chest. Their
growls echo off the walls, terrifying sounds that make me want to run in the
opposite direction. But I have to stand my ground, with Vorgath and Gorth
by my side.
They slowly inch closer, like moving shadows, their eyes fixed on us
with an intensity that's almost hypnotic. Drool is dripping from their jaws,
making the floor slick with their saliva.
 They attack then, their movements frenzied and primal. They snap their
jaws, trying to bite any part of our body that's exposed.
Their fur is matted with blood and grime, and their eyes glint with a
fierce intelligence that belies their animal nature. At that moment, I realize
that these are not ordinary creatures but something far more mystical and
terrifying.
I scream when one of them lunges at me, but Vorgath jumps in front of
me, blocking its attack with his sword. Gorth joins the fight, his battle cry
echoing through the tunnel.
The creatures are fierce and it's a long, grueling fight. Both Vorgath and
Gorth are injured. I search around for anything I can use as a weapon but
don’t see a thing. I suddenly wish I’d taken a sword or hammer from one of
the guards.
Finally, the last creature falls to the ground, its snarls fading into
silence. Gorth’s face is twisted in pain.
But what’s important is the threat is gone.
"What was that?" I ask, my voice shaking. "Those creatures, what were
they?"
Gorth’s expression is grim. "They are the guardians of the tunnel.
Wolfmen that used to be humans," he says. "They protect it from anyone
who tries to escape Zogar's kingdom. I thought they were myths. Guess the
tales are true after all. Now I’m glad I never crossed over using this route."
I wondered how he did in fact cross over, but I let that go.
As we continue through the tunnel, Gorth suddenly falls down and starts
panting heavily.
"What is it?" I ask. I feel worried and scared for him as Vorgath
examines him and realizes that his wound is much deeper than he thought.
"He's badly injured," Vorgath says.
"How bad?" I ask.
 "You should continue without me," Gorth says suddenly in between
groans. “I have nothing to live for, anyway. I came here to be with my
beloved Yena, who lived in Zogar’s kingdom. But she’s dead and I have no
one else left.”
Now I have an answer to so many questions. My heart aches for him.
"No!" I yell. "Why would you say that? We can't abandon you."
I turn to Vorgath. He nods sadly, as though he is painfully
acknowledging the fact that Gorth might be right.
"Dorothy is right,” he says. “We wouldn't have made it this far without
you."
Vorgath tries to help him up, but just then, more of the creatures come
running toward us.
"Go!" Gorth screams. “Please. I want this. Let me go.”
The tears come unbidden when I realize that we have no other choice
but to leave him behind if we're going to make it out alive.
Vorgath and I start running, but I hear Gorth's scream behind us. The
terrifying sounds of the creatures attacking him and tearing him apart will
haunt me forever.
We go faster, and I feel the walls closing in on me as we get closer to
the exit. The tunnel seems like an endless maze, and I worry we'll never
make it out alive, especially with what happened to Gorth.
Finally, we see the light getting stronger and clearer at the end of the
tunnel. We burst out into the open, and warm sunlight bathes my face as we
emerge from the darkness. We're both out of breath and injured, but we've
made it.
I'm relieved to see the sun shining bright in the sky. For a moment, I'm
disoriented. My eyes have trouble adjusting to the sudden brightness.
Relief registers at last, but I also feel sadness for Gorth and what he had
to sacrifice for us to be alive. I feel guilty for ever being suspicious of him.
 My relief is short-lived though for I spot a group of Zogar's men waiting
for us close by. Vorgath immediately jumps into action, unsheathing his
sword and preparing for battle.
Vorgath is a skilled warrior, but there are too many men for him to
handle alone. I watch as they attack him from every angle. I stand back,
trying to stay out of the way and avoid getting hurt.
He won't make it… Oh, God, please no. His side is bleeding and he is
losing steam.
But just when it seems like all is lost, Vorgath's youngest brother,
Throgg, appears out of nowhere to help him fight. Throgg is just as fierce
and with his help, Vorgath is able to take down the remaining men.
Victory, however, comes at a great cost. Vorgath is badly wounded and
can't seem to get up off the ground. His chest is rising and falling in rapid
movements. Throgg picks me up and tells me that we need to leave him
behind as more of Zogar's men are on their way.
The very suggestion shocks me and I can’t believe what I’m hearing.
How can he even think of leaving the king behind?
"No, we can't leave him!" I protest. "We have to help him! I will not do
that… Never!" I think I am going to lose my sanity.
Throgg shakes his head and I can tell this is the hardest decision for him
to make. "We can't. It's too risky. If we stay here, we'll all be caught and
taken back to Zogar's kingdom. We have to leave now. We can come up
with a plan to get him back later."
The roars of enemy orcs rock the earth. They are close. Tears stream
down my face as Throgg pulls me away, forcing me to leave Vorgath
behind.
I feel like I'm abandoning him, like I'm betraying him. I cannot take
this.
He picks me up because I can barely move from grief. As we flee, I can
hear Zogar's men getting closer. My heart aches with sadness and guilt.
Vorgath is wounded and helpless. Will they kill him?
“They won’t kill him,” Throgg says. “He’s too valuable. He’s a
bargaining chip to them.”
But I am not sure he is convinced of this. I can detect the uncertainty in
his voice.
If he’s wrong, I will never know Vorgath’s touch. I will never know how
it feels to be loved and cared for.
Ever.
OceanofPDF.com
 Want to get early access to book 2?
Subscribe to our Patreon for early access
Click here to get started

OceanofPDF.com