Page 15 of Caged By the Orc

I clear my throat, straightening myself in the seat. The carriage jolts beneath us, reminding me of the journey home. "We should be home soon. You, uh... you did good today. With the cleaning and stuff." The words feel clumsy on my tongue, but I mean them. She'd worked her ass off, and I couldn't help but be impressed.

Josie raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of her mouth. "Was that almost a compliment, Sarod? I didn't think you had it in you."

"Don't get used to it," I grumble, but there's no real heat behind my words. In fact, I'm fighting back a smile. Damn it, what's this woman doing to me? I turn to look out the window, hoping she doesn't notice the way my tusks are twitching with the effort of not grinning.

As the carriage rolls on, I find myself stealing glances at Josie, wondering just what the fuck is happening to me.

12

JOSIE

Ican't take my eyes off him. Sarod's muscles ripple as he exercises in the garden under the bright morning sky, practicing moves I've seen him use in the arena. Sweat glistens on his green skin, highlighting every curve and dip of his body. My cheeks burn as I realize I'm staring, but I can't look away.

What's happening to me? This is Sarod - the arrogant orc who's made my life a torment since the moment I stepped into his home. But after what he did at the match, defending me against Grokus... I don't know what to think anymore.

His strength is mesmerizing. The way he moves, so fluid yet powerful. It's nothing like the clumsy brutishness I always imagined orcs to have. There's a grace to him, a control that speaks of discipline and dedication.

I lean against the window, cloth forgotten in my hand. My heart races as I watch him execute a particularly complex maneuver. His face is set in concentration, those amber eyes intense. I remember how those eyes blazed when he confronted Grokus, all that ferocity directed at protecting me.

I jump, my heart leaping into my throat as I whirl around. Greta's standing right behind me, her arms crossed over herchest and a knowing look on her face. I hadn't even heard her approach. I was so lost in watching Sarod.

"Enjoying the view?" She arches an eyebrow, her tone teasing but with an edge of something I can't quite place. Disapproval? Amusement?

"I was just... taking a break," I stammer, feeling my face burn hotter than ever. The cloth in my hand suddenly feels damp and heavy, a reminder of what I should have been doing instead of ogling my employer.

Greta's lips twitch, fighting what I'm sure is a smirk. "Uh-huh," she drawls, clearly not buying my weak excuse. "Well, break time's over, missy. Those floors won't scrub themselves, you know." She gestures towards the bucket I'd abandoned earlier, and I nod quickly, forcing myself to turn away from the window and the mesmerizing sight beyond it.

As I hurry back to my chores, I can't shake the image of Sarod from my mind. Or the realization that maybe, just maybe, I've been wrong about him all along.

Later that day, I'm tasked with dinner duty. I bustle around the kitchen, gathering plates and appetizers from the chefs to present in front of Sarod. Balancing the food on a tray, I make my way out to the dining room where Sarod awaits at the head of the table.

I set Sarod's plate down carefully, the tantalizing aroma of roasted meat and exotic spices filling the air and making my mouth water despite myself. As I turn to leave, his hand suddenly shoots out, grasping my wrist firmly. My pulse quickens instantly, fear coursing through my veins like liquid fire.

"Sit with me for a minute," he says, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine.

I hesitate, my eyes darting around the opulent dining room before settling back on his face, searching for any sign of maliceor cruel intent. Finding none, I still can't help but ask, "Why? So you can mock me some more? I've had enough of that for one day."

He shakes his head, his amber eyes intense as they bore into mine. "No," he rumbles. "I just... I want company tonight. That's all."

Warily, I lower myself into the ornate chair across from him, my body tense and ready to bolt at the slightest provocation. We sit in awkward silence for a moment, the only sound the clink of his utensils against the fine plates. I fidget nervously with the hem of my apron, wondering what game he's playing now. Finally, Sarod clears his throat and speaks, his deep voice filling the room.

"I wasn't always like this, you know." He stares into his goblet, swirling the liquid inside. The firelight catches on the rim, casting dancing shadows across his scarred face. "Before the fame, the money... I was just another orc trying to make it. Scraping by, dreaming of something better."

I lean forward, curiosity overcoming my caution. My heart races a little as I dare to engage. "What changed?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Sarod's jaw clenches, a muscle twitching beneath his green skin. "Success," he growls. "It changes everything. People start treating you different. Expecting things. They see the gold, the glory, but not the price." He takes a long swig from his goblet. "And then there was Connie..."

His voice trails off, pain flashing across his face. It's raw, unexpected, and for a moment, I see past the intimidating exterior to something vulnerable underneath. I find myself reaching out, stopping just short of touching his hand. The heat from his skin radiates against my fingertips.

"I get it," I say softly, surprised by the empathy in my own voice. "Life has a way of twisting you into someone you neverthought you'd be. Of making choices you never saw coming." I swallow hard, thinking of my own path that led me here. "Sometimes, you wake up and barely recognize yourself."

He looks up, surprise in his eyes. "Yeah?"

I nod, thinking of my own struggles. "Before... before I stole from you, I was barely scraping by. My family needed money, and I... I made a choice I'm not proud of."

Sarod's expression softens, his amber eyes losing their usual intensity. "We all make choices we regret," he says, his voice tinged with a rawness I've never heard before.

The honesty in his words catches me off guard. For the first time since I've known him, I see past the arrogant exterior to the vulnerability beneath. It's like a mask has slipped, revealing a glimpse of the real Sarod – the one he keeps hidden from the world.