Page 12 of Caged By the Orc

"Watch it, Cap!" Thokk's gruff warning snaps me back to reality just in time. I barely dodge a vicious tackle, feeling the rush of air as my opponent barrels past me.

I shake my head, trying to focus on the chaos around me. But now that I've seen her, I can't stop looking. The way she leans forward, hands clenched into fists, biting her lower lip in anticipation. The raw enthusiasm on her face, her eyes following every movement on the field. It's... intoxicating. Fuck, when did I start caring so much about what some tavern girl thinks?

A strange feeling washes over me, unlike anything I've experienced before. It's not just about the thrill of the game anymore. I want to win this match, not just for my team or my ego, but for her. To show her what I'm truly capable of. To keep that mesmerizing fire burning in her eyes and maybe, just maybe, to see a hint of admiration there too.

"Sarod!" Groknak bellows, his voice cutting through the chaos. He's gesturing wildly at me, his face a mask of frustration and urgency. "Head in the fucking game!"

I grunt, shaking off my momentary distraction. With a surge of adrenaline, I throw myself back into the fray with renewed vigor. My muscles burn as I push harder than ever before, determined to prove my worth.

We're inching closer to victory with each brutal play, leaving a trail of battered opponents in our wake. The crowd's roar is deafening, a mess of cheers and jeers that should drown out everything else. But somehow, impossibly, I swear I can pick out Josie's voice among them all. It drives me forward, urging me to fight harder, to be better. For her.

That's when I hear it. Grokus, that smug bastard from the Destroyers, his voice dripping with contempt. The sound of it makes my blood boil, but I try to keep my focus on the game.

"Look at the great Sarod," he sneers, loud enough for me to hear as we grapple for the ball. His meaty hands are slick withsweat, making it harder to maintain my grip. "Slumming it with humans now? Can't get enough of those weak little things, can you?"

I ignore him, gritting my teeth and focusing on the game. But his words needle at me, burrowing under my skin like thorns. My muscles tense, anger fueling my strength as I push against him.

"Bet you've got a whole harem of 'em," Grokus continues, his breath hot on my neck as we struggle. The stench of his last meal lingers, making me want to gag. "Pathetic. You've gone soft, Sarod."

His taunts echo in my ears, threatening to break my concentration. I feel the eyes of the crowd on us, the roar of their voices a distant buzz compared to Grokus's venomous words. It takes every ounce of willpower not to lash out at him right then and there.

Something snaps inside me, a primal, possessive rage I've never felt before. The mere thought of Grokus finding out about Josie, of him even looking at her with those lecherous eyes of his, makes my blood boil and my vision blur with fury. It's a feeling so intense, so all-consuming, that it threatens to overwhelm me.

I slam into him with all my strength, channeling every ounce of my anger and newfound protectiveness into the impact. The force of it sends him sprawling across the field, his massive body skidding through the dirt. The ball comes loose from his grasp, and I snatch it up without hesitation, my fingers digging into its rough surface. I barrel towards the goal with a ferocity that surprises even me, my feet pounding against the ground, my heart racing with adrenaline and determination.

As I score, slamming the ball through the shifting, magical goal with a roar of triumph, my eyes instinctively search for Josie in the crowd. I spot her almost immediately, her face a beacon in the sea of spectators. She's jumping up and down,her face radiant with joy, her brown hair bouncing with each movement. The sight of her excitement, her pride in me, sends a warm rush through my body.

I like this. I like that, by maintaining my reputation as a cutthroat competitor in the zyrphix arena, I'm able to enjoy her like this. From a distance. And all of this is just to keep her mine.

Because sheismine. She was mine the moment I saw her staring at me in the tavern with that distinctive scowl on her face. She was mine when she stole my chain, sealing her fate.

And now that she's mine, I won't let anyone take her away from me.

10

JOSIE

At first, I didn't want to be here. My arms are crossed tightly over my chest, and I'm scowling so hard my face hurts as I follow Sarod into the arena. The bastard forced me to come, probably to show off or something. I can't believe I let him drag me to this stupid zyrphix match.

"Move your ass," he growls, shoving me forward with his massive green hand.

I stumble, my feet catching on the rough stone steps. I manage to catch myself before I fall flat on my face, thank the gods. "Watch it, you brute!" I snap, whirling around to glare at him.

He just smirks, those stupid tusks gleaming in the light, and keeps walking. Jerk. I swear, if he wasn't so... No. I'm not going there.

I reach my seat, an impressive one which overlooks the whole arena with ease. I hate to admit it, but the view is breathtaking. The entire pitch spreads out below, a sea of sand, dirt, and anticipation.

As Sarod heads down to prepare, I settle in, still grumbling under my breath. This is such a waste of time. I could be backat home, scrubbing floors by myself instead of watching sweaty orcs bash each other's brains out. That honestly sounds better than whatever this is.

But then the match starts, and holy shit. It's intense. My jaw drops as I watch the spectacle unfold before me.

The ball bursts out of the ground like it's alive, a magical explosion of energy that sends sand flying. Bodies clash in a frenzy of muscle and aggression, a tangle of limbs and sweat. It's chaos - beautiful, violent chaos. I can't tear my eyes away. I lean forward, perched on the edge of my seat, eyes wide and breath caught in my throat. My earlier complaints are long forgotten, swept away by the raw energy of the game. Maybe, just maybe, this wasn't such a bad idea after all. I hate to admit it, but there's something... exhilarating about it all.

"First time?"

I jump, startled out of my trance. Turning, I see a grinning dark elf next to me. He's wearing the team colors of the orc team that opposes Sarod's, all decked out in vibrant reds and golds. His eyes sparkle with amusement at my obvious awe.

"Uh, yeah," I mumble, feeling a bit shy. I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, trying to regain my composure. "I'm here for the Lightsnatchers. You know... Sarod's team?" I don't know why I feel the need to clarify, but something about this dark elf makes me nervous. Maybe it's the way he's looking at me, like he knows something I don't.