Page 9 of The Orc Protector's Secret Baby

Malamute’s laugh is harsh and mocking. "You fool," he spits. "You know nothing of leadership or tradition. Women like Sharog have one purpose - to be married off for the good of the clan."

Rage boils in my veins at his callous words. How dare he reduce my kind-hearted sister to nothing more than a bargaining chip?

"Sharog is not a pawn for you to barter with," I growl.

Malamute ignores me, turning his cold gaze to Sharog. "I've raised you for years, girl. Spent precious resources on you. It's time you repaid that debt."

His cruel words hit me like a physical blow. Threatening me is one thing, but I will not stand for him intimidating Sharog.

"Enough!" I roar, stepping protectively in front of my sister. "You will not speak to her that way!"

Malamute’s eyes narrow. "You dare to give me orders, bastard?"

My heart pounds furiously but I hold my ground. "I'm not a bastard. I'm a righteous orc, one who will lead this clan into a better future. And I'm telling you - Sharog will marry for love, not politics. If you force this, you'll have to go through me."

For a tense moment we stare each other down, the air crackling with hostility. Then, swift as a striking snake, Malamute lunges at me.

I'm not prepared for his speed. His fist cracks against my jaw, sending me staggering back. Sharog screams, but the sound is drowned out by the roaring in my ears as Malamute rains down blows.

I try to defend myself, but he's relentless, pummeling me with ruthless efficiency. Each punch is a burst of blinding pain. I taste blood, feel bones crack.

"You brought this on yourself," Malamute snarls as he kicks me to the ground. "Never forget, I am the Chieftain. My word is law."

Through swollen eyes I glare up at him, spitting out a mouthful of blood. "You rule through fear and brutality," I rasp. "But one day, your cruelty will be your downfall. The clan follows you now, but even they will only tolerate a tyrant for so long."

Malamute’s eyes flash with rage and he draws back his fist again. I brace myself for the blow but it never comes.

"Stop!"

Sharog throws herself between us, arms outstretched, tear tracks glistening on her cheeks. "Please, Father, no more. You've made your point."

For a long moment Malamute stares at her, chest heaving. Then finally, he lowers his fist.

"Get him out of my sight," he growls. "And Sharog - prepare yourself. You will marry who I command, and soon."

With that, he storms away, leaving Sharog to drop beside me and gather my broken body into her arms.

"Oh Cagan," she sobs as she tries to stem the flow of blood from my many wounds. "Why must you provoke him?"

"Because what he's doing to you is wrong," I grit out through the pain. "I couldn't let him… I won't let him..."

As I start to get a grip of myself, my thoughts are a swirl of anger and despair. Today my father proved once again that he is unfit to lead. His brutality and backward thinking will destroy our clan.

But I swear by the gods, one day I will stop him. No matter the pain I must endure, I will fight for a better future - for Sharog, for our people.

As Malamute’s footsteps fade into the distance, I remain on the ground, every inch of my battered body throbbing with pain. His parting words echo in my ears. "Clear your head, orc boy. Remember your place."

I clench my fists, anger and humiliation burning hot in my veins. How many more times must I endure this? How long before my father sees me as a true orc, an equal, instead of a disobedient child to be beaten into submission?

Sharog rushes to my side, her gentle hands fluttering over my injuries. "Cagan, let me help you. We need to get you cleaned up."

But I flinch away from her touch, shame and resentment welling up inside me. I don't want her pity, don't want her to see me like this - weak, defeated, powerless against our father's brutality.

"Leave me be," I grunt, hauling myself to my feet with a pained grimace. "I need space."

Ignoring Sharog's pleas and the stabbing protests of my wounds, I stagger towards the treeline. I need solitude, need to clear my head and lick my wounds in private.

As I stumble through the undergrowth, every fiber of my being rails against the injustice of it all. I'm a strong orc, a warrior, the future leader of this clan. I should be respected, my word heeded. Yet time and again, I'm reduced to a cowering child beneath my father's fists.