Page 5 of Caged By the Orc

"Fine," I whisper, the word tasting like ash in my mouth. My shoulders slump in defeat, and I feel something inside me crumble.

A smirk twists Sarod's lips, his tusks gleaming in the dim light. "Smart girl," he purrs, his voice full of mockery that makesmy skin crawl. "Now come along. We have a long walk ahead of us."

He drags me through the darkened streets, his tight grip never loosening. I stumble to keep up with his long strides, my mind reeling. What have I gotten myself into? And what will become of my family without me there to help support them?

As we reach the outskirts of town, grand mansions loom ahead, their windows dark in the late hour. The air grows cooler, and I shiver, partly from the chill and partly from fear. Sarod leads me up a winding path to an enormous stone structure that puts the others to shame. Its imposing silhouette against the night sky makes my stomach churn with dread.

My eyes widen as we step inside, and I can't help but gasp. I've never seen such opulence—gleaming reflective floors that mirror our distorted reflections, priceless artwork adorning every wall, and furniture that probably costs more than I'll make in a lifetime. The scent of polished wood and expensive perfumes tickles my nose, so different from the musty odor of my family's cramped home.

"Welcome to your new home," Sarod says with a mocking bow, his tusks glinting in the soft light of ornate magical lamps. "I hope you're ready to work, little thief. Because you've got a lot of making up to do." His words send a chill down my spine, and I swallow hard, wondering what kind of labor awaits me in this gilded prison.

I gawk at the sheer extravagance surrounding me. Crystal chandeliers drip from vaulted ceilings, their facets throwing rainbow prisms across polished floors. Plush rugs that could feed my family for months cushion each step. Ornate vases and priceless artwork line the walls, mocking me with their useless beauty.

My fingers twitch, longing to snatch something—anything—to pawn. The urge is almost overwhelming, a familiar itch thathit me back in the tavern when I saw Sarod's gold chain. But his watchful gaze keeps me in check, his amber eyes tracking my every move like a predator sizing up its prey.

"Like what you see, thief?" He smirks, gesturing around the grand foyer with a sweep of his muscular arm. His tusks catch the light as he grins, sending another shiver down my spine. "Try not to drool on my floors. They cost more than you'd make in a lifetime."

I clench my fists, fighting the urge to retort. The sheer arrogance in his voice makes my blood boil, but I know better than to provoke him. Instead, I force myself to look away from the tempting riches surrounding us, focusing on the polished floor beneath my feet.

"Alright, time to earn your keep." Sarod snaps his fingers, and a severe-looking human woman appears. She's tall and stands straight. Her black hair is pinned back into a bun that rests at the nape of her neck. As a human, I'd expect some kindness in those gray eyes, but… there's nothing there. "Greta, show our new... guest to the servants' quarters. Then put her to work scrubbing the kitchens."

"The kitchens?" I blurt out, my eyes widening in disbelief. "But it's the middle of the night! Surely no one's even using them right now."

Sarod's eyes narrow, his amber gaze piercing through me. "Problem?" he growls.

I swallow hard, feeling the weight of his stare. "No," I mutter, dropping my gaze to avoid his intimidating glare. My fingers fidget with the hem of my shirt, a nervous habit I can't seem to shake.

"Good," he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Because from now on, you work when I say you work. When I say jump, you ask how high. When I say scrub, you scrub until your fingers bleed. Clear?"

I nod stiffly, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from saying something I'll regret. Without another word, I turn to follow Greta down a narrow, winding staircase. With each step, the opulence of Sarod's mansion fades away, replaced by stark stone walls that seem to close in around us. The plush carpets give way to bare wooden floors that creak ominously under our feet.

At the bottom, Greta shoves a bucket and brush into my hands, the items feeling impossibly heavy in my exhausted state. The acrid smell of cleaning solutions assaults my nose, and I brace myself for a long, grueling night ahead.

"Get to it," she grunts. "And don't even think about slacking off."

Hours pass as I scrub greasy pots and scour burnt-on food from massive ovens. My back aches, my hands are raw, and exhaustion threatens to overwhelm me. My mind races with thoughts. How am I going to reach my mother again? How can I explain my situation? She's probably waiting for me. And I won't be able to come.

Just as I finish, Sarod strolls in, his imposing figure filling the doorway. The scent of his cologne mingles with the harsh cleaning solutions, making my head spin.

"Not bad," he says, his deep voice rumbling as he inspects a gleaming countertop. His massive hand runs along the surface, searching for imperfections. "But you missed a spot." Without warning, he knocks over my bucket with his foot, dirty water splashing across the floor I just spent hours cleaning. The sight of my hard work ruined in an instant makes my blood boil.

"What the fuck?" I snap, forgetting myself in my anger. The words burst out before I can stop them, echoing in the now-silent kitchen.

Sarod's amber eyes flash dangerously, his tusks gleaming as he bares his teeth. "Watch your tone, girl," he growls, taking a step closer. His shadow looms over me, reminding me of howsmall I am compared to him. "You're here to work, not talk back. Know your place."

Trembling with silent fury, I clench my fists at my sides. "I have a name," I growl, meeting his gaze despite every instinct screaming at me to look away. "It's Josie. And I deserve basic respect, even if I am just a servant to you."

"I don't care what your name is," he snarls, his breath hot on my face. "You're nothing but a thief who owes me. A worthless little pest I should've left to rot in that alley." His words cut deep, each one a knife twisting in my gut. "Now clean up this mess and get started on the dining room. I expect it spotless before tomorrow morning's breakfast. And if it's not, you'll wish you'd never set foot in my house."

As he storms out, I glare at his retreating back, my nails digging crescents into my palms. The sound of his heavy footsteps fades, leaving me alone with the bitter taste of humiliation. This partnership, if you can call it that, is off to a wonderful start. I let out a humorless laugh, shaking my head. How long before one of us kills the other? Given the murderous thoughts already swirling in my mind, I'd wager it won't be long at all.

5

SAROD

Islam the door to my study, frustration boiling in my veins. That damn human girl's been nothing but trouble since I brought her here. Should've just had her killed for stealing from me. But no, I had to be... what? Merciful? Fuck that. The thought makes me want to punch something.

"Josie!" I bellow, my voice echoing through the halls like a war cry. The sound reverberates off the stone walls, making the very air tremble. I'm seething, my fists clenched at my sides as I wait for her to show her face. My tusks ache from how hard I'm clenching my jaw, and I can feel a vein pulsing in my temple.