Page 18 of Loved By The Orc (Monster Orc Brides #4)

“Doesn’t matter to me.” Leviton shrugs, but I can tell he’s nervous. “My whelp will follow nine months from his.”

The orc king rubs his chin thoughtfully and everyone is silent while he looks back and forth between the brothers, Varguk keeping his place in the crowd of people instead of joining his family on the stage. Then the king straightens.

“On one hand, we have Varguk who implemented the plan. On the other, Levi outwitted him from the first gate. But Varguk persevered and won the challenge… yet, Levi outfoxed him again by rising from the dead and bonding with Auglesh to replan. To re-evaluate and reformulate the plan. Now we stand with Levi actually bringing the wench here and Varguk running home with his tail between his legs.”

“Which will bring war to Southpeaks everywhere .” Varguk’s voice is clear. “Not just our village under your line but every clan under every king out there.”

That is not what his father wants to hear. The scowl on his face emphasizes the lines in his brow.

Leviton steps forward. “Just as easily as Varguk won the favor of the Blackhearts and West Mountain orcs, he can persuade them that everything is fine and the pregnant wench left Creede to be with me.”

“Why would I do that?” Varguk asks softly.

“Because you protect your people,” the king barks, obviously protecting Leviton. “Above all else, you protect your clan. ”

That’s the clincher. Varguk can’t speak out against his brother, apparently, because Levi smirks as he realizes he just won.

“Originally, we thought to see which was the better brother between two. Now, to be fair, I will choose between the three of my sons. Though quieter, Auglesh had quite a role. So, ‘tis my decision that the wench will be mated to both Levi and Aug this day,” King Vronas announces. “The winning team. And the whelp will be regarded as their own—royal blood. And you, Varguk, will convince the Blackhearts and West Mountains that she chose to come willingly. That she’s a princess mated to the second and third in command. Because if you could get the Prince of the West Mountain orcs to agree to you in the first place? You can sway them to avert war.”

Wait. What?

Mayhap Varguk is a dirty, sneaky orc but I sure as hell don’t want his two brothers. I struggle against my binds but I’m ignored as the cheers roar.

It’s nearly impossible to hear the king’s next words. “The other clans will be forced to engage in an alliance with our branch. We will become the most powerful line in Southpeak territory!”

The noise is deafening.

He turns to Leviton to speak privately, his voice so low I can barely hear. “Take her to the farthest right mating hut and make sure she’s locked in the bedroom. Have a guard around the perimeter and one inside the house.”

The farthest chambers? They have more than one? My heart sinks. Even if someone came looking for me, they’d have to navigate several locations to find me.

“Then come enjoy your ale before enjoying your bride,” he bellows, loud enough now for everyone to hear.

Not only does a cheer roar out through the crowd, but the sounds of stomping feet .

The guard steps up and slices the cord that keeps me bound to the pole, though my hands are still tied together.

Leviton picks me up and tosses me roughly over his shoulder, the air squeezed out of my lungs.

And now that he’s won, he doesn’t care about being gentle.

He tosses me over his steed and climbs up behind me.

By the time we get to the mating hut, my stomach is queasy.

He grabs me from the horse, wrenches the gag from my mouth… and I hunch over and vomit at his feet.

“’Tis true,” he hisses. “You carry the bastard’s son? We’ll make sure that one doesn’t come to term.” He eyes my belly with disgust.

From where I kneel on the ground, I look up to where he stands and his eyes, so dark and soulless, stare back with a cruelty that comes natural.

I think he’ll enjoy beating me while he thinks I’m pregnant.

The hairs on the back of my neck prickle.

I have no doubt that even if I were pregnant, and if I carried to full term, he’d smother the brat and say it wasn’t strong enough for its first breath.

All because it’s Varguk’s.

And my heart is broken, not only for an imaginary brat but for the imaginary love I thought I had. The one time I gave my heart, it was for naught.

“You stink,” Leviton bites, his voice scathing.

“Clean yourself up before Auglesh and I return from our night of celebration. You’ll service us this night.

” He leans in to threaten me. “Unless that foul brat is running out from between your legs. If so, I’ll give you a week or so to heal.

I never cared about having my own brats, but I rather like the idea of you carrying mine when you can’t carry Varguk’s. ”

He jumps back and snarls when I vomit some more. When I’m done, he grabs my upper arm and drags me into the hut, flinging me into a darkened room and locking the door from the outside.

As soon as he leaves, I bend at the waist and maneuver my hands low so I can pull my feet through, having my hands tied in the front of me. Then I rush to the window, pushing aside the heavy drapes with my bound hands.

The windows are barred.

I race back to the door and twist the handle, but it doesn’t budge. Doesn’t move at all from the inside, so I desperately search the room to find a weapon.

There’s a giant bed, a small table with a basin of water and a bar of soap. A hand-sized towel. Nothing sharp. Nothing to break.

I throw the basin onto the floor where it shatters. Then I sit, sift through the mess to find a good-sized shard that looks sharp, and go to work sawing my ropes. It’s slow, tedious work and as the light starts to fall, I scramble to cut faster.

When the rope finally snaps free, I nearly weep with joy… until I realize I’m still trapped in the goddess-forsaken padded cell.

Before I can make a plan, my time’s up. There’s the faint sound of a key in the lock and my jailor returns.