Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
“Where?” Tigor asks, gripping the handle of the spear strapped to his back.
Oran scans as Tigor stops, looking my way.
“Do you see them?” Oran asks.
“There!” I roar, breaking into a run as her scent turns my flesh hot and her voice rises above the crowd. I zero in, there are five of them surrounding her, humans dressed in orc leather, carrying overpriced human-sized forged weapons. She’s a lush little creatures, raven black hair, pulled into a long braid, a sweet cherub face but with the fiercest sea blue eyes.
The humans around her are known as orc appropriators. They wear their leather kilts, carry our forged weapons, shave the sides of their head wearing their hair long I leather bands but orc they will never be.
Tigor and Oran are on my sides, asking no questions as I storm forward. The back of a yellow bus stands open, the small dark-haired female surrounded by the throng of human males. Heat razors down my back as one of them grabs her arm. She spins, shoving him back while the others laugh.
We are closing in as she reaches into the back of the bus, whipping around with a xylan, an orc type ax meant for cleaving meat or decapitating enemies.
“No touching,” she says, holding the weapon above her head for a moment before the weight of the solid steel head exhausts her and it thumps into the ground.
A human male dressed in orc leather with white hair long on top and shaved on the sides of his head, reaches forward, but he does not get a chance to sully her flesh with his touch.
I reach down, grip his ankle and swing him above my head like a screaming cat before flinging him into the brush along the tree line a hundred feet away.
Ten sets of human eyes are on me, but I only see her. Tigor and Oran are to my left, grunting and growling, shoving the humans back, not bothering to question me about why we are here or why we care.
This is our brotherhood. We are family and our bond will never be broken.
“Hey!” she yells, her blue eyes flashing with fire as she steps back. “Are you buying? Otherwise, get lost.”
Confusion stalls my fist as I draw back to knock another of the males away. But, it’s more. It’s her scent.
For the love of all things sacred, I cannot think straight with her this close. Thoughts barrel through my head. The strongest one is: I will not let her get away again. I reach down and wrap my fingers around her tiny wrist, careful not to crush her delicate bones as Oran and Tigor chase off the rest of the throng.
Her warm flesh is silk against my palm even as she tugs and smacks at my clenched fingers. She’s wearing a leather corset with a white blouse, her ripe, full bosom spilling from the top. She smells like rose petals and smilak—an orc treat close to what humans call caramel. My mouth waters as my tusks dig into my upper lip, my imagination taking over as a vision of ripping her leather stitched pants from her body makes my mouth water and my heart speed.
Her eyes are like the painted sky, full lips a fierce deep pink, and I imagine her nipples the same color. She is fire and temptation, the mating pheromones she gives off linking with mine and there is no going back.
A human is my mate.
No. NO.
I cannot have a mate. Let alone human. I cannot be distracted from protecting my people. My family. I will not lose any more of them.
I remind myself of the evil done to our kind by human hands, but none of that seems to matter as I sweep my arm under her ass and mount her belly over my shoulder. She is not staying here. Not where she is unprotected. She is small, soft and…mine.
She’s as small as an orc child but she is every bit a breeding age female. I imagine how she will feel under me, naked and writhing after I rip every stitch from her body. My cock is already fighting to get at her, to fill her with every drop of the mating release I’ve saved for her for over three centuries.
I’m working out my plan as I lay my foot into an oncoming human with purple hair, sending him crashing into a cart selling incense and candles. All the better, humans’ need for putrid sweet smells turns my stomach.
Two more humans rush forward as the female punches at my back.
“Put her down,” the male barks, reaching for her foot.
I sweep him away with the back of my hand, then grab the other by the throat.
“Those are my customers you big dipshit!” She screams while she kicks, her softness twisting on my shoulder.