Page 32 of Bound to the Alien Orc (Alien Gambits #1)

Chapter 32

C law’s iron grip digs into my arm as he marches me through Garrox’s residence. It’s cold, despite the lavish display of wealth. Gold and gems embedded in the walls, intricate tapestries depicting Morcrest’s history, furniture carved from the rarest woods. It’s a far cry from the rugged simplicity of Droilin’s childhood home.

I can’t help but scoff at the extravagance. “Quite the lavish setup Garrox has here. I’m sure your people would be thrilled to know their esteemed leader hoards all the finery while they scrape by.”

Claws’ fingers tighten, making me wince, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction of crying out. “Quiet, Pink Meat,” he snarls. “The High Chieftain’s business is none of your concern.”

I bite back a retort, accepting it will only earn me more rough treatment... or worse, from Claws. But silently, I seethe. Garrox’s hypocrisy knows no bounds. Leeching off his own clan’s suffering to line his pockets, all while spinning tales of loyalty and honor. The injustice of it all makes my blood boil.

We halt at the base of a grand staircase, its rails gleaming silver in the fading light. Claws shoves me forward. “Up,” he commands, his tone brooking no argument.

I stumble, catching myself on the banister. “Watch it,” I snap, glaring over my shoulder. But he merely smirks, enjoying my momentary loss of balance.

As we ascend, my mind races. The Rite must be approaching, the twin suns sinking ever lower. What will become of me, of Droilin, when Garrox makes his move? My heart clenches at the thought of my orc facing that monster alone. I have to help him, to even the odds.

The weight of the electrified hunter’s knife in my boot is a slight comfort. At least I have one trick up my sleeve, if it comes to that.

We reach the top of the stairs, the guard’s hand clamping on my shoulder as he steers me down a long hallway. Paintings line the walls, a mix of portraits and landscapes. One in particular catches my eye — a breathtaking rendition of the Frosthok mine, its luminore veins glowing ethereal hues against the violet sky.

Despite myself, I pause, marveling at the artistry. “Stunning, isn’t it? The way the painter captured the luminore’s essence, the heart of Morcrest. Not that you’d understand such things, being a soulless Neanderthal and all.”

Claws growls, shoving me hard. I collide with the wall, the painting rattling dangerously. “Shut your mouth, Pink Meat, and keep moving,” he spits.

I right myself, squaring my shoulders. I will not cower, not give Garrox or Claws the satisfaction of seeing me broken. They may think they hold all the cards, but I’ll be damned if I make this easy for them.

At last, we arrive at an ornate door at the end of the hall. Claws raps sharply, the sound echoing like a death knell. My heartbeat quickens, palms slick with sweat as the door swings open.

He forces me inside, and I find myself in a richly appointed study. Bookshelves tower to the ceiling, crammed with ancient tomes and gleaming data pads. A massive desk dominates the center of the room, its surface strewn with holo-maps and schematics flickering blue.

And there, lounging in a high-backed chair like a king on his throne, is Garrox. He doesn’t look up at my entrance, his attention fixed on the diagrams rotating above the desk.

“The human, High Chieftain,” Claws announces, throwing me to the ground at his feet.

“Get up,” Garrox growls.

My knees are bruised from the impact, but I slowly climb to my feet, my gaze fixed on Garrox’s face.

He glowers at me, his eyes glittering with malice.

“Human,” he sneers. “How good of you to join me. Welcome to the heart of Morcrest.” His tone drips with sarcasm, making it clear I’m not welcome in the slightest.

I scoff, crossing my arms. “Oh, is that what we’re calling your den of deceit and betrayal these days? How charming.”

Garrox narrows his eyes, his lip curling in a snarl. “You have quite the tongue. But be careful, I have no tolerance for insolence. Not from you, and certainly not from that traitorous whelp.”

His voice is cold, his gaze full of contempt.

“Traitorous?” I echo, incredulous. “You’re the one who betrayed the trust of your clan. Stealing from them, hoarding their profits while they starve. You’re the real traitor, Garrox.”

He scowls, slamming a fist down on his desk. The holo-map flickers wildly.

“Enough!” he roars. “Your insolence will not be tolerated. Know your place, human, or you will regret it.”

I swallow hard, but stand firm. “What do you want from me? If you’re going to kill me, just get on with it.”

Garrox chuckles darkly, shaking his head. “Kill you? Oh no, human. That would be too easy. No, you are far more useful to me alive.”

A shiver runs down my spine. “Useful how?”

“Your attempt at fixing my ship, clumsy as it was, revealed a plot against me I’d not suspected. One that would have placed Morcrest under STI control, with those fools Yalrog and Keklor leading it. A grim fate narrowly avoided, thanks to your incompetence.”

Garrox leans in, eyes cold. “Now I must renegotiate with my broker. They were promised exclusive luminore rights, yet try to depose me? Unacceptable.”

“So, you just ruined my life by framing me for a crime I didn’t commit. I’ve obviously played my part here.”

He stands, rounding the desk. With deliberate slowness, he circles me, his gaze appraising, but he doesn’t answer me. My eyes land on the plasma gun lying in plain view. A pointed reminder of the power he wields, the threat hanging over my head.

I swallow hard, but force myself to meet his gaze. I can’t afford to show weakness, not now. Bravado is all I have left.

Garrox studies me for a long moment, and I have the unsettling sensation of being dissected, laid bare beneath his icy stare. Then, a cruel smile twists his lips, his eyes glittering with malice.

Moving to the holo-display, Garrox expands the schematic with a wave of his hand. A colossal mining operation takes shape, far bigger than anything I’ve seen on Morcrest.

“This,” Garrox announces, his tone dripping with satisfaction, “Is the future of our world. A unified Morcrest, under my enlightened rule. No more petty squabbling between clans, no more clinging to the old ways. I will bring our people into a new era of prosperity and might.”

He speaks with fervor, his eyes bright with ambition. It’s clear he truly believes in his vision, but all I can see is greed and megalomania.

I can’t help but gape at the sheer scale of it. The technology, the infrastructure required... It’s staggering. An uneasy realization takes root.

“This is why you needed a business partner,” I breathe. “This is their design, isn’t it? They’re the ones behind all this.”

Garrox smirks. “Very astute for a mediocre engineer. Yes, I’ve made certain arrangements to ensure Morcrest’s ascension in Orion. The STI are so eager for our luminore, they’ll happily back my claim to become one of the decision makers once the dust settles.”

“Most here want stability and prosperity, not power plays and luminore deals.” I hiss.

Garrox’s eyes glint dangerously. “Under my rule, they’ll have both. I will unite the clans and control all Morcrestian luminore.”

He taps the datapad, bringing up a schematic. “This is the future. With my partners’ aid, the mines will be vastly expanded, enriched by off-world tech.”

I shake my head. “You can’t force this on your people.”

“The STI has agreed to it, in exchange for luminore. Once I control the clans, I control luminore production. With luminore, I control the STI.” His smile turns cruel. “Morcrest’s future is at hand. And anyone who stands in my way, and be crushed beneath it.”

My stomach drops, nausea churning within me. We were right. The evidence was right in front of us the whole time.

“Why are you telling me this?” I demand, fighting to keep my voice steady.

“Because you’re going to help me bring it to fruition.”

“And if I refuse to be a pawn in whatever twisted gambit you’re making?”

Garrox’s expression turns cold, his eyes hardening to chips of ice. “You will help me, human. The Rite will be a fair fight. Until it’s not. Droilin will never see it coming.”

“You’re going to cheat,” I spit.

“Of course,” Garrox chuckles. “It’s not cheating. It’s using the resources available to me. Droilin is the one who taught me that.”

My heart races, fear and anger warring within me. Garrox’s plan is despicable, his treachery without limit. But how can I stop him, trapped here in his fortress?

“Droilin will win,” I insist, clinging to the shred of hope that remains.

“Droilin,” he sneers, “is a relic of a bygone age. He clings to the same na?ve ideals that doomed his father. But after tonight, he’ll be nothing more than a footnote in Morcrest’s history. And you...” His finger tightens on the trigger. “You’ll play your part.”

Garrox towers over me, eyes glinting. My hand itches for the knife in my boot, but I dare not risk Droilin’s fate.

“This Rite is an inconvenience, yet an opportunity. Droilin will lose, the Chieftains will be forced to forfeit their posts or die. Then I will unite Morcrest under my rule.”

He leans closer, voice cold. “With new tech, the luminore will flow. Morcrest will be an interstellar power, wealthy beyond imagination. And none shall stand in my way.”

My heart races, adrenaline flooding my veins. There’s no way out, no way to warn Droilin.

Garrox leans in close, his voice low and dangerous. “Make no mistake, human. This is the beginning of the end. When the Rite is over, and Droilin’s corpse is cooling on the ground, the rest of Morcrest will soon fall in line. Whether you like it or not.”

I swallow hard, my throat dry as sand. The weight of Garrox’s threat hangs heavy in the air, the certainty of his victory sinking in.

“And if you’re lucky, maybe I’ll keep you as a pet,” Garrox leers, his fingers grazing my cheek.

I flinch away from his touch, revulsion curling in my gut. “Go fuck yourself, Garrox.”

With a roar of rage, Garrox strikes me, sending me sprawling to the floor. Pain blossoms across my cheek, my vision swimming.

Claws haul me roughly to my feet, his cruel fingers digging into my arm.

Garrox seizes the plasma gun, leveling it at my chest. I freeze, hardly daring to breathe.

“You will confess and take the fall for the mine sabotage and smuggling. I made certain unsavory deals with my partners to secure their cooperation. With you as the scapegoat, I eliminate that leverage.”

Garrox’s gaze hardens. “No one can know the lengths I went to for this deal. Your confession will erase any links back to me.” His finger tightens on the trigger, and the fear in my gut solidifies into a cold, hard ball.

“No,” I whisper, shaking my head. “No, I won’t do it. I won’t confess to something I didn’t do.”

“Then you are bait,” he says, his voice low and dangerous. “A distraction. Every hit Droilin lands on me during the Rite, Korg here will land a harder one on you. I will ensure Droilin’s focus is not on winning the Rite, but on protecting his little mate. Or I can kill you right now. Either is fine.”

“You’re bluffing,” I accuse. “The Rite is sacred; the clans will not tolerate cheating.”

He laughs, a harsh sound that echoes in the spacious room. “This does not break the rules of the Rite. And I care nothing about the opinions of the clans. I only care about winning. And you, human, will help me achieve that goal.”

I shake my head, my chest thumping. This can’t be happening.

“You’re despicable,” I hiss, hatred curling in my gut.

Garrox’s eyes flash, his hand darting out to grab my chin, forcing me to look at him.

“You will do as I say, human, or I will have Korg cut your pretty little throat right here. Am I understood?”

I glare at him, my jaw clenched.

“Answer me, human,” he demands, his grip tightening.

“I understand,” I grind out, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing me beg.

I have no choice. He’s going to kill me, or beat me. I have no leverage here . Droilin, I’m sorry.

“I’ll do it,” I say, my voice barely a whisper.

Garrox grins, his eyes glinting with triumph. “Good girl.”

Turning to the console, Garrox keys in a series of commands. The holo-projector flares to life, and a familiar face materializes above the desk. Kyor.

“What — ” I gape, my mind reeling. “What’s he doing here?”

Garrox smiles thinly. “Chief Engineer Drakonforge has been instrumental in my plans. You see, he’s not just a loyal STI dog. He’s also the mastermind behind the most extensive smuggling ring in the galaxy. Quite the enterprising fellow, wouldn’t you agree? I was surprised myself when he made me the offer that brought us together.”

“What?” My mind spins, the pieces slowly falling into place. “Drakonforge, he’s the one who tried to sabotage the ship! He’s the one who framed me!”

Garrox laughs. “Of course he did. He needed a scapegoat, and you were perfect. A hapless, helpless human, so easy to manipulate. Of course, he double crossed me with my business partner, but I’m about to return the favor.”

Behind Kyor, an Orion Officer enters, his face obscured by the dark visor of his helmet. The guard looks familiar, with a stocky frame and a — Arm-ageddon! He places his metal hand on Kyor’s shoulder and grips it, his gaze fierce.

“Kyor Drakonforge, you are under arrest for smuggling luminore, treason, and attempted murder. How do you plead?”

Kyor looks stunned and stares through the holo-screens and directly at Garrox, then the rest of us.

“This is absurd. I did no such thing!” he protests.

Garrox smiles, the expression unsettling. “We have proof, Drakonforge. The evidence is damning, I’m afraid. You will be punished accordingly.”

I watch, frozen in shock, as it takes three guards to restrain the protesting Chief Engineer as the screen goes blank.

I gape, anger burning hot in my veins. The utter gall of this orc, the arrogance. “You’re despicable, you know that? Both of you. You’re willing to sacrifice the future of an entire planet just to get ahead.”

Garrox smirks. “The ends justify the means, human. Now, are you ready to make that confession?” I can only stare, numb with shock and betrayal. Kyor, my mentor, my friend... All this time, he was working with Garrox, bleeding Morcrest dry. The bitter sting of it chokes me.

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, fury and despair warring in my chest. I’m trapped, a znatfly in his web, and he knows it. If I confess, I’ll be back on trial in Orion, away from Droilin, even if he wins the Rite. I won’t escape execution a second time.

“Please,” I rasp, hating the tremor in my voice. “Please, don’t do this. I’ll do anything else, but not this.”

Garrox smiles coldly. “You will confess, or else endure unimaginable agony during the Rite. Every wound I inflict on Droilin, my guard will visit upon you tenfold.”

His eyes bore into mine. “Droilin’s focus will be on protecting his fragile mate, not winning. And you will ensure that comes to pass, or your suffering will break him every time I land a blow. A fitting punishment for the traitor.”

Garrox leans closer, his breath hot on my face. “So choose—take the blame, or die here and now. Either way, I will relish my victory.”

I close my eyes, feeling the hot slide of tears down my cheeks. I can’t let Droilin suffer for my defiance. I can’t. Even if it means sacrificing my freedom, my future.

Drawing a shuddering breath, I look up at Garrox, defeat etched into every line of my face. “I’ll do it,” I whisper brokenly. “I’ll confess. Just... Just let me see him before the end.”

Triumph flashes in Garrox’s eyes, cold and merciless. “I’m not a monster, Tasha. Of course, you can say your goodbyes. I’ll even let you have a moment alone to make your peace.” He leans in close, his breath hot against my ear. “But remember, if you falter here, for even a second, I’ll make sure Droilin sees your death, and it will be slow and agonizing.”

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. The weight of my capitulation, the depths of my helplessness, presses down like a physical thing.

Garrox straightens, smoothing his tunic. “Good. I’m glad we understand each other.” He gestures to the guard. “Bring up the call. It’s time our little saboteur confessed her crimes to the galaxy.”

Claws complies, and the holoscreen shifts. The faces of the STI ambassadors materialize, their expressions ranging from curiosity to suspicion. And among them, to my shock, is Officer Neve McCoy.

For a moment, hope flares in my chest. If she’s here, if she’s involved, maybe there’s a chance...

But Garrox is already speaking, his voice dripping with mock concern. “Esteemed members of the STI, I’m afraid I have grave news. This human, Tasha Williams, has been caught red-handed sabotaging the Jrosk mine. Her actions threaten the very stability of Morcrest.”

Ambassador Tyrix leans forward, his one eye narrowing. “Are you certain of this, High Chieftain? The STI has a strict policy of non-interference in local planetary affairs.”

Garrox nods gravely. “I’m afraid the evidence is irrefutable. See for yourself.”

He taps a button, and grainy security footage fills the screen. It shows Droilin and I fleeing the mine, moments after the explosion. Out of context, shorn of any explanation, it looks damning as hell.

Jha’ril makes a thoughtful noise, his oil-slick wings rustling. “This is troubling indeed. But surely there must be more to the story. Perhaps we should question —”

Garrox cuts him off with a slash of his hand. “That won’t be necessary. Miss Williams has already agreed to confess, to spare Droilin the shame of being implicated in her scheme. Isn’t that right, Tasha?”

Every eye on the screen turns to me, boring into my soul. I feel the weight of their judgment, their condemnation. And in that moment, I want nothing more than to scream the truth, to damn the consequences and expose Garrox’s lies.

But the cold press of the plasma gun against my ribs, the promise of agony in Garrox’s eyes, stops the words in my throat.

Slowly, haltingly, I nod. “Yes,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “Yes, I did it. I sabotaged the mine. Droilin had nothing to do with it. He’s innocent.”

The words taste like bile on my tongue, acid in my veins. But I force them out, each one a nail in my coffin.

Officer McCoy’s gaze sharpens, something inscrutable flickering in her eyes. For a heartbeat, I dare to hope she’ll call Garrox’s bluff, that she’ll see through his charade.

But she merely inclines her head, her expression unreadable. “Thank you for bringing this to our attention, High Chieftain. Rest assured; the Planetary Police will investigate thoroughly. And the saboteur will face justice. You have my word.”

Garrox smiles, all oil and venom. “Of course, Officer. I have complete faith in your dedication to the law. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to prepare for the Rite of Akar’ath.”

He cuts the call with a flick of his wrist, the holoscreen winking out.

Garrox laughs, a harsh, grating sound that sends shivers down my spine. “You played your part admirably, little human. So convincing, so broken. I almost believed it myself.”

I glare at him through my tears, too heartsick to muster a response. The enormity of what I’ve done, the betrayal I’ve committed, crashes over me like a wave. I should have trusted Droilin to defeat Garrox. Will he ever forgive me when he learns the truth?

Garrox seems to sense my thoughts, his smile widening. “Oh, don’t look so miserable. You’ll see your precious Droilin soon enough. And then...” He trails off, his expression turning cruel. “Then you’ll get to watch as I break him, utterly and completely.”

I lunge at him, a wordless cry of rage tearing from my throat. But Claws is faster, catching me in a brutal grip, slamming me back against the wall. The breath leaves my lungs in a rush, stars exploding across my vision.

He leans in close, his voice a silken purr. “You’ve served your purpose, Tasha. And for that, I suppose I should thank you.”

I spat in his face, satisfaction curling in my gut as he recoils. “Go to hell,” I rasp, my voice raw with hatred. “Droilin will defeat you. He’s twice the male you’ll ever be.”

Garrox’s eyes flash, his hand cracking across my cheek in a stinging blow. I taste blood, feel it trickle down my chin.

“We’ll see about that,” he hisses. “When I’m standing over his broken body, when I’ve crushed the life from him with my own hands, we’ll see who the true male is.”

He turns on his heel, nodding to the guard. “Take her to the holding cell until the Rite. And gag her. I tire of her insolence.”

As Claws drags me away, as the rough fabric of the gag fills my mouth, I can only pray. Pray that Droilin will prevail, that he’ll find a way to stop Garrox’s madness.

But a small, traitorous part of me, the part that knows the depths of Garrox’s cruelty, his ruthlessness, can’t help but wonder...

What if he doesn’t? What if Garrox wins, and Droilin falls?

What then?

It’s a thought too terrible to bear. So, I don’t think on it for long. I can’t. Instead, I focus on putting one foot in front of the other, on not succumbing to the despair threatening to swallow me whole.

Claws shoves me into a small, dingy cell, the gag still tight around my mouth. I stumble, catching myself against the cold stone wall. The door slams shut behind me, the lock clicking with a dreadful finality.

I’m alone. Trapped. Helpless.

For a long moment, I simply stand there, my mind reeling, my heart shattered.

All I can do is hope, and pray, and cling to the fragile thread of faith that somehow, some way, Droilin will prevail.

Slowly, I sink to the floor, drawing my knees to my chest. The biting cold of the stone seeps into my bones, but I barely feel it. I’m numb, hollow, a shell of the person I once was.

Tears slide down my cheeks, hot and scalding. I don’t stop them. Here, in the darkness of my cell, there’s no one to see, no one to judge. I can let myself shatter, let myself feel the full weight of my grief, my despair.

Then I think of Droilin, of his fierce determination, his unwavering loyalty. I think of the way he held me, the way he kissed me, like I was the most precious thing in the universe. I think of the future we might have had, the life we could have built together.

And I weep. Great, heaving sobs tear from my chest, that leave me gasping and shaking. I weep for the injustice of it all, for the cruelty of a galaxy that would tear us apart. I weep for the love I’ve found, and the love I stand to lose.

But even in the depths of my anguish, even as my heart shatters into a million jagged pieces, I cling to one thing. One tiny, fragile spark of hope. Droilin.

He is my strength, my anchor, my guiding light. He is the reason I’ve fought so hard, the reason I’ve sacrificed so much. And he is the reason I will not give up. Not now, not ever.

So, I dry my tears; I square my shoulders, and I lift my chin. I may be trapped, I may be helpless, but I am not broken. Not yet.

And as long as there is breath in my body, as long as there is love in my heart, I will never stop fighting. For Droilin, for Morcrest, for the future we dreamed of.

Even if it costs me everything.