Page 7 of Caged By the Orc

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Page 7 of Caged By the Orc

As Greta leaves, I find my thoughts drifting to the human girl. Maybe she's not entirely useless after all. But I quickly shake off the notion. She's still just a thief working off her debt, nothing more.

I can't afford distractions, not when I've worked my ass off to get where I am. Being captain of the team comes with expectations, responsibilities - and a whole lot of pressure. The crowd's roar, the thrill of victory, the rush of adrenaline as I score the winning goal - that's what matters. That's what I've built my life around.

But damn, it's lonely at the top. My reputation precedes me everywhere I go, like a shadow I can't shake. People want to be near me for my fame, my wealth, not for who I am beneath all the glitz and glory. I see it in their eyes, that hungry look that has nothing to do with me as a person.

I made that mistake with Connie, thinking she saw beyond the surface, thinking she actually gave a shit about me. Never again. I've learned my lesson the hard way, and I won't let anyone get close enough to hurt me like that again. It's safer this way, keeping everyone at arm's length. Easier. Lonelier, sure, but at least I'm in control.

I stand, pacing the room. The human girl's face flashes in my mind, her fierce determination. I growl, shoving the image away. I can't let myself get distracted. Zyrphix is everything. It has to be.

6

JOSIE

Iscrub the floor with vigor, my arms aching from the repetitive motion. The dining room's opulence mocks me, a stark reminder of how far I've fallen. My eyes sting, and I blink rapidly, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to spill over.

A droplet splashes onto the polished wood beneath me. Damn it. I swipe at my face with the back of my hand, smearing dirt across my cheek.

Mom's face flashes in my mind, her kind eyes crinkling at the corners as she smiles. My chest tightens. What would she think of me now? Trapped in this gilded cage, at the mercy of a brute who treats me like dirt beneath his feet.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," I mutter, scrubbing harder. The jewelry glitters in my memory, taunting me. One moment of weakness, and look where it's landed me. If only I'd kept my hands to myself, I'd be home right now, not stuck here with that insufferable orc.

My shoulders tense at the thought of Sarod. His towering frame, those piercing amber eyes that seem to see right through me. A shudder runs down my spine. What if he decides I'm moretrouble than I'm worth? The threat of death hangs over me like a storm cloud, ready to break at any moment.

The floorboard creaks behind me, the sound shattering the silence like a thunderclap. I freeze, my heart leaping into my throat, pounding so hard I'm sure he can hear it. Slowly, I turn my head, my muscles tense and ready to bolt at the slightest provocation.

Sarod stands in the doorway, his massive form filling the space, blocking out what little light filters in from the hallway. I brace myself for the usual barrage of insults, steeling my nerves for the cutting words I've come to expect. But they don't come. He just... watches me, his face an unreadable mask. Those amber eyes, usually filled with contempt, are fixed on me with an intensity that makes my skin prickle and my breath catch in my chest.

I duck my head, unable to hold his gaze any longer. My eyes dart back to the floor, focusing on the grimy planks as if they hold the answers to all my problems. My hands tremble as I resume scrubbing, the coarse bristles of the brush scraping against my palms. I'm all too aware of his presence looming over me, like a storm cloud ready to unleash its fury. The silence stretches between us, thick and suffocating, and I find myself wishing he would just say something, anything, to break this unbearable tension.

I scrub furiously, trying to ignore Sarod's piercing gaze that carves into my skin. The silence stretches, thick and oppressive. My skin crawls under his scrutiny. I can't take it anymore.

"What?" I snap, whirling to face him. "What do you want?"

Sarod's eyes narrow, his amber gaze piercing through me like a dagger. "Watch your tone, thief," he growls, his deep voice rumbling through the room.

"My tone?" I laugh bitterly, the sound harsh even to my own ears. "You're the one standing there, staring like some creep. What, never seen a girl clean before?"

"This is my house," he growls, taking a step forward. His massive frame seems to fill the entire doorway, making me feel even smaller. "I'll look wherever I damn well please. Got a problem with that?"

I rise to my feet, fists clenched at my sides, my nails digging into my palms. The fear coursing through me transforms into anger, hot and fierce. "Then go look somewhere else," I spit out. "I'm busy cleaning your precious floors. Or did you forget that's why I'm here in the first place?"

"You're here to work, not give me lip," Sarod growls, his amber eyes flashing with anger.

"I'm here because you threatened to kill me!" The words burst out before I can stop them, my chest heaving with pent-up frustration. "You think I want to be here, scrubbing your floors like some slave? This isn't exactly my idea of a good time, you know."

Sarod's face darkens. His massive hands clench into fists at his sides, and I can't help but flinch. "You're lucky that's all you're doing," he snarls, taking another step closer. "After what you stole?—"

"I know!" I shout, my voice echoing off the walls and making me wince. "I know what I did. You remind me every damn day." I run a hand through my tangled hair, fighting back the tears of anger and frustration that threaten to spill over. "You think I could forget? That I don't regret it every single moment I'm stuck here with you?"

He towers over me, his presence suffocating. The scent of sweat fills my nostrils as I struggle not to back away. My heart pounds in my chest, defiance coursing through my veins.

"Show some gratitude," Sarod growls, his deep voice rumbling through me.

"Gratitude?" I spit the word like poison, tasting bile in my throat. My fists clench at my sides, nails digging into my palms. "For what? For treating me like dirt? For making my life a living hell? For every damn day I have to scrub floors and serve drinks to your rowdy friends?"

"For sparing your miserable life," Sarod snarls, baring his tusks. His amber eyes burn with an intensity that makes me shiver.

We're inches apart now, both breathing hard. The air crackles with tension, thick enough to choke on. I can feel the heat radiating off his massive frame, see the pulse throbbing in his neck.




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