Page 26 of Caged By the Orc

Grokus paces the small room, his massive frame seeming to take up all the available space. "Sarod thinks he's so much better than the rest of us," he rants. "Prancing around with his fancy jewelry and human whores. It's time someone put him in his place."

I want to scream, to fight back, to do something. But I know it would only make things worse. So I stand there, trembling with fear and rage, as Grokus continues to spew his venom. My hands clench into fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms, as I struggle to maintain some semblance of control.

"And you," he turns back to me, eyes gleaming with malice. "You'll learn your place too. By the time I'm done with you, you'll be begging to serve a real orc." His words send a chill down myspine, and I have to swallow hard to keep the bile from rising in my throat.

The cold bite of metal against my wrists makes me wince as Grokus roughly chains me to the wall. The rusty shackles dig into my skin, and I bite back a whimper, determined not to show weakness. I can feel the rough stone behind me, cold and unyielding, as I press myself against it, trying to put as much distance between myself and this monster as possible. My heart beats so loudly in my chest that I'm sure he must be able to hear it, but I force myself to meet his gaze, silently daring him to do his worst.

"There," Grokus grunts, giving the chains a hard yank that sends a jolt of pain through my wrists. "That ought to keep you put until your precious Sarod arrives." His foul breath washes over me, and I have to fight the urge to gag.

I glare at him, channeling all my anger and fear into defiance. My heart races, but I won't let him see how terrified I truly am. "You're making a big mistake," I spit out, my voice steadier than I feel.

He laughs, the sound grating on my nerves like nails on a chalkboard. His yellow teeth flash in the dim light as he sneers down at me. "The only mistake was Sarod thinking he could get away with humiliating me. You're just collateral damage, human." The way he says 'human' makes my skin crawl, like I'm something less than dirt beneath his feet.

As Grokus turns away, muttering to himself about revenge and settling scores, I close my eyes and take a deep breath. The musty air of the dungeon fills my lungs, and I try to center myself. I can't let him break me. I won't. Sarod will come, I tell myself. He has to. And when he does, Grokus will rue the day he ever laid a hand on me.

My thoughts drift to Sarod, and a warmth spreads through my chest despite the dire circumstances. I remember the feel ofhis strong arms around me, the way his eyes softened when he looked at me when he thought I wasn't noticing. It seems like a lifetime ago now, but I cling to those memories.

Sarod will come for me. I know he will. Our connection runs deeper than either of us wanted to admit, but now, facing the possibility of never seeing him again, I can't deny it anymore.

I think back to that night in the garden, the passion that ignited between us. It wasn't just lust – there was something more, something real. The way Sarod's rough hands had caressed my skin so gently, the intensity in his amber eyes as they locked with mine – it had awakened something deep within me. I draw strength from that bond now, using it to steel my resolve against whatever Grokus has planned.

Opening my eyes, I survey the grimy room, looking for anything I can use to my advantage. The stone walls are damp and moldy, and the air reeks of decay. There's not much here – a rickety wooden chair, a few rusty chains hanging from the ceiling, and the iron shackles binding my wrists. But I refuse to give up. I've survived worse than this orc brute, and I'll survive him too. After all, I didn't claw my way out of poverty and make it this far just to be broken by some jealous bully.

As Grokus stomps around, his heavy footfalls echoing off the walls, he rants about his plans for Sarod. His voice is grating, full of spite and malice. I tune him out, letting his words wash over me without sinking in. Instead, I focus on formulating my own plan. My eyes dart around, cataloging every detail of my prison. I may be chained, but my mind is free. And right now, that's my greatest weapon. I've always relied on my wits to survive, and they won't fail me now. Sarod's coming, I know it – I just need to stay alive and sane until he does.

21

SAROD

Istorm through the streets of Orcland, my teammates hot on my heels. My blood boils with rage, whicht fuels my every step. Grokus has Josie. That bastard dares to touch what's mine. The thought of his filthy hands on her makes my vision blur with fury.

"Spread out," I growl to my team, my voice rough with barely contained anger. "Hit every tavern, every back alley. Someone's gotta know where that scum's hidin'. And when we find him..." I let the threat hang in the air, my teammates nodding grimly.

We split up, covering more ground. I bash open the door of a seedy pub, the rotting wood splintering under my fist. The patrons fall silent at my entrance, a sea of green faces turning to stare. The stench of cheap ale and unwashed bodies hits me, but I barely notice. The bartender, a grizzled orc with a missing tusk, eyes me warily, his hand inching towards something under the counter.

"Where's Grokus?" I demand, slamming my fist on the counter hard enough to make the mugs rattle and spill their contents. The acrid smell of cheap ale fills my nostrils as I glare at the bartender, my eyes scanning the room, daring anyone tolie to me. "I know you lowlifes know somethin'. Start talkin', or I'll tear this place apart board by board."

The threat works like a charm. The bartender's one good eye widens, and he mumbles something about a tavern wench who often entertains Grokus when he's passing through the streets. I toss him a coin, the metal clinking against the worn wood, and storm out, signaling my team to regroup with a sharp whistle.

As we gather in a nearby alley, taking a moment to catch our breath and contemplate our next moves, Grul falls in step beside me. His tusks glint in the dim light as he speaks. "Captain, what's the deal with this human? Never seen you so worked up over a piece of tail before. She must be somethin' special to get you this riled up."

I clench my jaw, considering how to answer. The truth is, I'm not entirely sure myself. "She's... different," I finally mutter, running a hand over my face. "Ain't just some conquest. She's got fire in her, a spirit I ain't seen before. And I'll be damned if I let that bastard Grokus snuff it out."

Grul raises an eyebrow, his tusks twitching with amusement. "You fallin' for a human, Sarod? That ain't like you. Never thought I'd see the day."

I grunt, running a hand over my face as I try to sort through the jumble of emotions churning in my gut. "I don't know what it is," I admit, surprising myself with the honesty. The words tumble out before I can stop them. "She's gotten under my skin, Grul. In my blood. It's like nothing I've ever felt before."

"Hmm… You know what? I getcha." Grul slams his hand into my back, nearly knocking the wind out of me. "I felt the same way when I met Dana. Knocked me on my ass, she did. I just figured you'd be the type to find yourself a female orc and marry her. You know, keep the bloodline pure and all that shit."

"Why?" I raise a brow, genuinely curious. Grul shrugs, his tusks jutting out as he ponders.

"Those females are important, you know that. Keepin' the tribe strong and all. And I always thought you'd want the best of the best for yourself. Some warrior princess type to match your big bad self on the zyrphix pitch."

"Heh," I mumble, shaking my head and running a hand through my coarse hair. The thought of some orc princess pales in comparison to Josie's fire. "Josie is the best of the best. She's got more fight in her little finger than most orcs I know."

"If she's making you act like this, then I believe that." Grul eyes me with newfound respect. "Never seen you so worked up over a female before. Human or not, she must be something special."

"Yeah." I pick at the rough patches on my hands. Years and years of training have hardened my flesh into the way it is. "I can't let Grokus hurt her. She's mine to protect." The words feel strange on my tongue, but right. I've never felt this way about anyone, let alone a human. But Josie... she's wormed her way into my heart, past all the walls I've built up over the years. The thought of Grokus laying a finger on her makes my vision go red, my fists clenching at my sides.