Page 3 of Caged By the Orc

I grab an empty tray from a nearby table, my palms sweaty against the worn wood. Weaving through the crowd, I dodge elbows and sloshing drinks. The closer I get, the louder my pulse pounds in my ears. As I pass their table, I time it just right and pretend to stumble. My hand shoots out, brushing against Sarod's thick, green neck as I steady myself. The heat of his skin startles me for a second.

"S-sorry," I stammer, keeping my gaze fixed on the floor. I don't dare meet his eyes, afraid he'll see right through me. My fingers close around the chain, feeling its weight and coolness for just a moment before I yank hard. The clasp gives way easier than I expected, and I have to stifle a gasp of surprise.

It snaps free.

Panic surges through me as I straighten up, heart thundering in my chest like a stampede of wild beasts. My hands tremble as I smooth down my clothes, desperately trying to appear normal. I mumble another hasty apology, avoiding eye contact, and hurry away on unsteady legs. Every step feels like an eternity as I silently pray to any god who might be listening that he hasn't noticed.

I finally make it to the back room, collapsing against the wall as my legs threaten to give out beneath me. Sweat beads on my forehead, trickling down my temples as I clench the stolen necklace in my fist so tightly that the metal bites into my palm. The cool weight of it feels impossibly heavy, a stark reminder of what I've just done.

I did it. I actually did it. The realization hits me like a punch to the gut, leaving me breathless and dizzy.

Now I just have to get out of here before?—

"Hey! Where's my necklace?" Sarod's angry bellow cuts through the tavern noise like a knife, making me flinch violently. His deep voice, usually so enticing, now sends icy tendrils of fear crawling up my spine.

Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit oh shit. My mind races, searching frantically for a way out of this mess I've created. But as the sounds of chairs scraping and heavy footsteps approach, I do the only thing I know how to do well.

Run.

3

SAROD

Ifeel the weight of the blonde human on my lap, her perfume cloying in my nostrils. Her fingers trace my chest, leaving a trail of warmth that should excite me, but something's off. My hand instinctively moves to my neck, searching for the familiar weight of my prized chain. The one that means more to me than this tavern full of drunks could ever understand. It's gone.

"What the fuck?" I growl, shoving the woman off me with more force than necessary. She stumbles, her eyes wide with shock, and nearly falls on her ass. Part of me wants to laugh, but the rage building inside drowns out any amusement.

"Baby, what's wrong?" she simpers, reaching for me again with those perfectly manicured nails. As if I give a shit about her right now.

I ignore her, my eyes scanning the tavern like a predator seeking prey. The patrons fall silent, one by one, sensing the shift in mood. Good. They should be afraid. My fists clench at my sides, knuckles cracking, as I stride to the center of the room. Each step feels like thunder in the sudden quiet.

"Who took it?" I roar, my voice echoing off the grimy walls, making a few of the weaker patrons flinch. "Which one of yousorry shits had the balls to steal from me?" I bare my tusks, daring anyone to speak up or try to run. Someone in here is about to have a very bad night.

Silence. Then a flurry of whispers and nervous glances ripple through the tavern like a disease. The stench of fear permeates the air, mixing with the usual reek of cheap ale and sweat. Good. They should be terrified.

"I'll ask one more time," I snarl, grabbing the nearest human by his threadbare collar. His feet dangle off the ground as I lift him effortlessly. "Where's my fucking chain?"

The man's eyes widen in fear, his face paling to a sickly shade. "I-I don't know, sir! I swear on my mother's grave!"

I toss him aside like the worthless sack of shit he is. He crashes into a nearby table, sending mugs clattering to the floor. My gaze sweeps the room, challenging anyone to meet my eyes. These lowlifes think they can fuck with me I'll show them what happens when you cross an orc who's lost everything but his pride.

"Listen up, you miserable sacks of shit," I bellow, my voice resonating through the tavern like a thunderclap. The patrons cower, their eyes darting nervously around the room. "That chain's worth more than your pathetic lives combined. Tell me who took it, or I swear by the gods, I'll tear this place apart brick by fucking brick. And don't think I won't enjoy it."

A scrawny human in the corner raises a trembling hand, his face as pale as death. "I... I saw something, sir," he stammers, voice barely above a whisper.

I'm on him in an instant, my massive green hand engulfing his throat as I lift him off his feet. His legs dangle uselessly in the air, reminding me of a puppet with cut strings. "Spit it out before I lose my patience," I growl, baring my tusks.

"One of the tavern girls," he chokes out, his eyes bulging with fear. "Josie. She ran out just now. Looked like she was in a hurry. Maybe... maybe she knows something?"

I drop the human, watching with satisfaction as he crumples to the floor, gasping for air. Josie. That name rings a bell. The pretty little thing with the dirt-smudged face who's always scurrying around, avoiding eye contact. If she's involved in this, she's about to learn what happens when you cross an orc who's got nothing left to lose.

"Where'd she go?" I demand, my voice a low rumble that sends tremors through the tavern. The stench of fear permeates the air.

The man, still quivering on the floor, points a shaky finger toward the back door. "That way, sir," he stammers, his eyes wide with terror. "Toward the market district. She... she was running like a pack of dark elves were after her."

I crack my knuckles, the sound echoing in the sudden silence. Adrenaline courses through my veins, setting my nerves on fire. The hunt is on, and by the gods, I'll find that little minx if it's the last thing I do.

"You better pray I find her," I growl to the room at large, baring my tusks in a feral grin. The patrons shrink back, some averting their eyes, others frozen in place. "Or I'm coming back for all of you. And trust me, you don't want to see what happens then."