Page 8 of Resisting the Wicked Orc (Silvermist Mates #4)

CHAPTER EIGHT

ZRAL

G uards and brothers moved as one, surrounding us with synchronized grace. I shoved Rava behind me and met the first attacker with a roar, my fist connecting with his jaw. The satisfying crunch of bone was drowned out by the chaos erupting around us.

Rava’s fire magic ignited, her hands wreathed in flames as she sent two guards staggering backward. Her tail lashed like a whip, catching another across the face.

“Kaz, stop this!” The pendant pulsed in her grip as she faced her brother. “You don’t have to obey him. You’re stronger than this!”

For a moment, I thought we actually stood a chance.

Then a guard slammed into me from the side, driving me to my knees. Another caught my arms, wrenching them behind my back with brutal force. I struggled against their grip, muscles straining as they forced me to the ground. A boot pressed between my shoulder blades, pinning me to the earth.

“Kaz, please,” Rava begged. “You have to fight this.”

Through the tangle of bodies, I saw the tallest guard—the one who’d called her sister—grab Rava’s wrist, twisting until she cried out. The pendant fell from her fingers, landing in the dirt. Her brother’s face remained blank as he snatched up the pendant.

“Rava!” I shouted, fighting harder against my captors.

She broke free with a burst of flame, sending her brother stumbling back. For an instant, our eyes met across the clearing. Her path was clear. She could escape while the guards were focused on subduing me.

I saw the calculation in her eyes, the moment of decision.

Then crimson smoke swirled around her, and she was gone.

The fight drained from my muscles, leaving behind a familiar hollow ache. Bitter thoughts soured my tongue as I stared at the empty space where she’d stood. I’d let myself believe, just for a moment, that she might choose differently.

Javed’s cold laugh cut through the clearing. “Like a coward,” he said, examining the pendant now in his possession. “So much for that precious Kadhan honor, right, Kaz?”

Kaz simply stood at the ready, eyes focused somewhere in the middle distance.

Rough hands hauled me to my feet. The mate bond thrummed between my ribs like a second heartbeat, each pulse a reminder of her warmth against my skin, of the way she’d melted into my touch before dawn. Of trust given and betrayed. Of a woman who’d rather face her demons alone than stand beside me.

Javed turned to his guards, gesturing dismissively at me. “Take him to the camp. Perhaps he’ll prove a useful bit of bait to bring my bride home.”

Red smoke swirled and we materialized in what looked like a basement holding area, all scratched concrete walls and sturdy supports. Harsh fluorescent lights cast stark shadows across the windowless space, with more blank-eyed guards posted at regular intervals. My captors marched me into a cell sectioned off by thick iron bars. The gate clanged shut behind us, the sound echoing off the bare walls.

For several long minutes, no one moved. No one spoke. The brothers might as well have been carved from stone, every muscle locked in place. The unnatural stillness made my skin crawl.

Then something shifted in the air. The rigid postures loosened fractionally, though they still couldn’t move freely. The tallest brother—Kaz—turned his head with visible effort, his eyes showing the first hints of awareness I’d seen.

“Sorry about the accommodations.” The words came out strained, like speaking through gravel. “Can’t exactly... offer better at the moment.”

Another brother twitched, fighting to turn his head. “Fucking ring. Can feel... everything. Can’t stop any of it.”

Kaz’s gaze sharpened, studying me. “You were with our sister. Why?”

His question hung in the stale air. I paused, studying his face. The muscle jumping in his jaw, the sheen of sweat in the dim light. Each tiny movement seemed to drain him. The iron bars and posted guards made it clear they were just as much prisoners as I was.

Or pets, I thought with disgust. Dogs locked back in their kennel until their master needed them again.

The mate bond burned beneath my ribs, but I kept my voice steady. “She needed help recovering something that was stolen.”

“The pendant.” Kaz’s eyes flashed with something like recognition. “She came to you... instead of us.”

“Came to me by accident.” I met his gaze. “What I don’t understand is why her own brothers are helping the man hunting her.”

Silence stretched between us. The other brothers shifted restlessly in their magical bonds while Kaz seemed to gather his strength. Finally, he spoke.

“Came to our compound,” he ground out, bitterness twisting his features. “Demanding... Rava.”

“Told him to fuck off.” Pride briefly flickered across another brother’s rigid features. “Should’ve seen his face.”

Kaz made a sound between a laugh and a groan. “Then he... Ring. Didn’t know... he had one. Ancient relic.”

“Should’ve known.” The third brother’s bitter words were barely more than a breath. “He’s not... satisfied just giving orders. Requires perfect loyalty.”

The hair on my neck rose. “What are you saying?”

“Makes us fight... each other,” Kaz managed, his eyes bright with fury. “Tests what commands... we can resist. What breaks us.” His gaze hardened. “Won’t let her... defy him.”

Not her. Not her brothers. Probably not those siblings that turned up dead or vanished, either.

My gut churned. This was about a sadistic prince’s wounded pride, about breaking someone who dared tell him no. The thought of her under his control, being forced to fight her own brothers...

The brothers suddenly went rigid, their bodies snapping to attention like marionettes. Kaz’s eyes met mine, raw panic breaking through the magical haze.

“He’s coming.”

RAVA

Crimson smoke choked my lungs as I materialized behind the waterfall. My knees hit stone, hands bracing against cold, wet rock as my stomach heaved. The roar of falling water drowned out my gasping breaths, but nothing could silence the screams echoing in my mind.

Zane’s unseeing eyes. Malak’s blank face. Kaz’s hollow voice calling me ‘sister’ while he tried to break my wrist.

My brothers—proud, stubborn, infuriating—reduced to puppets. And I’d left them there. Left them with Javed.

Left Zral.

The mate bond pulsed with each frantic heartbeat. One night was all I promised him. One night, with an uncertain future ahead. And with all the predictability of uncertainty, it arrived with all the pleasantness of a kick to the twat.

I hadn’t meant to trust him. Hadn’t meant to stay.

But he’d offered both, casually and unconditionally. Without hesitation. He’d trusted me enough to sleep beside me. To offer his clan’s help.

To invite me into his world.

My fate, with my mate, cut short before it could truly begin.

I’d abandoned him when things got hard. Just like I’d run from the arranged marriage instead of facing my brothers or Javed directly. But running hadn’t solved anything. Javed controlled my brothers, and now he had Zral too.

“Fuck!” I slammed my fist into the stone, welcoming the sharp pain that shot up my arm. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

My fire magic sputtered and died as tears threatened. I’d failed. Failed at everything. Failed to claim my freedom, failed to save my brothers, and now I was hiding behind a waterfall like a fucking coward while Javed took everything I cared about.

I couldn’t—wouldn’t—roll over so easily.

I sat back on my heels, forcing myself to breathe. To think. If I wanted any chance of saving them, I needed weapons. Anything that might give me an edge against Javed.

The compound was my only option. I could gather supplies and maybe contact some of the other clan members. With Javed likely returning to his palace with his prizes, I should have time to prepare.

I pictured my bedroom, the one place in the compound I knew better than any other, and let crimson smoke swirl around me.

The familiar scent of home filled my lungs as I materialized beside my bed. The room was exactly as I’d left it before leaving for my final taste of freedom. Bed unmade, clothes scattered across the floor, a pile of books on the nightstand. A moment stuck in time, waiting for me to return.

A noise outside my door froze me mid-step. Voices. Unfamiliar voices.

I crept to the door and pressed my ear against the wood. Heavy footsteps passed by, followed by a man’s voice—not Kaz, not Malak, not Zane. A stranger, speaking in clipped tones.

“Prince Javed wants the place cleaned out. They won’t need their shit once they’re dead.”

My blood ran cold. Javed hadn’t retreated to his palace. He’d claimed our home.

I eased the door open a crack and peered into the hallway. Two guards stood at attention, their uniforms bearing the Fitsum crest. My fingers curled into fists, nails biting into my palms. This was an extra layer of violation. This was where I’d grown up, where I’d trained with my brothers, where I’d felt safe. And now it was occupied territory.

Without the pendant as a weapon and my brothers under Javed’s control, I was at a severe disadvantage. But I couldn’t leave, not again. Not with Zral and my brothers trapped here.

I eased the door shut and considered my options. The armory would be heavily guarded, but there were other weapons scattered throughout the compound. Personal caches my brothers kept in their rooms.

Crimson smoke swirled, and I found myself crouched beside Malak’s perfectly made bed. Unlike my chaos, his room was military-precise with everything in its place. I yanked open the nightstand drawer and found the knife exactly where I expected.

I slipped it into my boot just as the door burst open. Two guards stood in the doorway, weapons raised.

“Shit,” I muttered, preparing to teleport again.

But before I could gather my magic, something slammed into me from behind. Pain exploded in my skull as darkness crowded my vision. I twisted, trying to escape, but more hands seized my wrists, pinning me to the floor.

“Look what we found,” one guard sneered, wrenching me upright. “The prince will be pleased.”

Pain shot through my shoulder as they twisted my arms behind my back and marched me from the room. My tail lashed furiously, dread filling me more and more with each step. They dragged me into what had been the Kadhan main hall.

Now it was Javed’s throne room.

He lounged on a makeshift throne, one leg thrown over the side and watching the scene play out before him. The pendant hung around his neck, the hellfire opal pulsing with malevolent light.

But what froze the breath in my lungs took place in the center of the room.

Zral knelt, blood streaming from a cut above his eye. My brothers surrounded him, their faces blank masks as they methodically beat him. Zane’s fist connected with Zral’s jaw. Malak shoved him down. When Kaz’s boot slammed into Zral’s ribs, my cry caught in my throat.

“Ah, darling, just in time.” He gestured to the guards, who dragged me forward. “Your family has been most helpful. I do prefer the stench of blood to the smell of your cunt on this creature.” He sniffed in my direction, wrinkling his nose. “Though we’ll need a remedy for you soon, won’t we?”

Zral spat blood onto the floor, his dark eyes meeting mine. Despite the bruises blooming across his face, his gaze burned with defiance.

“She’s not yours,” he growled, each word costing him obvious pain. “Not anyone’s. She makes her own choices.”

“Oh?” Javed raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his golden eyes. “Is that so?”

He lifted his hand, the ring glinting on his finger as red light pulsed from its center. Magic slammed into me, driving the air from my lungs. I felt it crawling through my veins, seeping into my muscles, whispering into my mind.

Submit. Obey. Surrender.

I fought against the compulsion, against the insidious urge to give in, to please him. My knees threatened to buckle as the magic pressed harder, crushing my will beneath its weight.

“Tell me, dear one,” Javed’s voice slithered into my ears, “who is this creature to you?”

I met Zral’s eyes. Too late. It was all too late, and Javed had his claws in us. There were no future tonights, no hope for a future at all.

And still, the truth clawed its way up my throat. I fought against Javed’s control, ground the words out between my teeth, let my orc hear the truth. For as few minutes as we had left, I was his. “My mate.”

Rage flew across Javed’s expression. Power surged, crushing down on me until spots danced in my vision.

“Try again,” he snarled.

My tongue felt leaden in my mouth. “He’s nothing.”

Javed’s smile returned, cruel and satisfied. He crooked a finger. “Much better. Now, come here and watch your brothers erase this nothing from our lives.”

My body moved without my permission, crossing the space between us. Javed patted his lap, and to my horror, I sat down like an obedient pet. His arm snaked around my waist, holding me in place as he nodded to my brothers.

“Kill the orc,” he ordered. “Slowly.”

I screamed inside my mind, fighting against the bonds of magic that held me captive. Zral struggled to his feet, facing my brothers with grim determination. When Kaz’s fist sent him staggering back, something snapped inside me.

The mate bond flared hot in my chest, a connection stronger than Javed’s control. I focused on it, on the warmth that had filled me when Zral touched me, when he looked at me like I was something precious.

When he’d trusted me despite every reason not to.

The knife I’d taken from Malak’s room pressed against my leg where I’d tucked it. The guards hadn’t noticed, too focused on delivering me to this sadistic game. My fingers twitched, fighting against Javed’s control.

Trust me. Just this once.

Zral’s words echoed in my mind, fueling my resistance. The mate bond surged, breaking through Javed’s control just enough for my hand to close around the knife’s hilt.

I drove the blade into Javed’s thigh.

He howled, shoving me away. I crashed into Malak, my hand instinctively grabbing for something to break my fall. My fingers closed around the pendant, tearing it free as I fell.

That split second of broken control was enough. Malak’s eyes cleared, awareness flooding back. He caught me before I hit the ground, spinning me behind him as Kaz and Zane shook off Javed’s influence.

“You bitch!” Javed snarled, clutching his bleeding leg. “You’ll watch your brothers die for that. Or perhaps I’ll have you carve them to pieces first.”

The Fitsum guards moved to protect their prince, but they were no match for my brothers’ fury. Kaz moved like a demon unleashed, disarming the first guard and using his weapon against the second. Malak and Zane fought back-to-back, their coordination born of years fighting together rather than magical compulsion.

Zral, beaten as he was, struggled to his feet and joined the fray. I positioned myself in front of him, knife raised as a guard charged us.

“Stay behind me,” I ordered, blocking the guard’s swing with my blade.

Zral snorted, grabbing the guard’s arm and twisting until something snapped. “Like hell.”

Javed pushed to his feet, his face twisted with fury as his carefully laid plans crumbled around him.

Blood soaked his pant leg where I’d stabbed him, and his golden eyes narrowed as he assessed the losing battle. His gaze fixed on Zral—beaten, injured, but still fighting—and something dark crossed his face.

Despite his injury, he moved with surprising speed, snatching a blade from a fallen guard. Crimson smoke swirled around him as he teleported, reappearing directly behind Zral with his dagger raised.

“Zral, behind you!” I screamed, my heart lurching into my throat.

Zral turned, but too slowly. Javed’s arm descended in a vicious arc, the blade aimed at Zral’s heart.

“No!” I clutched the pendant, focusing all my will through it. “Stop!”

To my shock, Javed froze mid-strike, his body rigid. The pendant burned in my palm, channeling my command.

“Take off the ring,” I ordered, my voice steady despite the nausea rising in my throat. “Throw it on the ground.”

Javed’s hand moved jerkily, as if fighting my control every inch of the way. But he obeyed, removing the ring and tossing it to the floor with a metallic clink.

Disgust rolled through me at the sensation of controlling another being. It felt vile, dirty, like oil coating my skin. This was what Javed had done to my brothers, what he’d tried to do to me. The thought made me want to scrub myself raw.

But I didn’t release him.

“Kneel,” I commanded.

Javed’s knees hit the floor, his face contorted with rage and fear.

“You will confess your crimes,” I said, each word tasting like ash in my mouth. “You will submit to judgment for what you’ve done to everyone you hurt.”

Javed howled, fighting against my control. The pendant grew hot in my hand as he strained against its power.

“Nowhere… will be safe,” he spat. The pendant flickered in my palm. “I’ll find you. Make you… pay.”

I pushed back on him through the pendant. The slick, oily feeling filled my veins, made it hard to think.

Red smoke began to swirl around him as my control slipped and he prepared to teleport.

Malak reacted instantly, ripping an ax from the nearest rack and throwing it. In one smooth motion, Kaz snatched it from the air and swung the blade into the center of Javed’s teleportation cloud.

Javed stumbled back, materializing partially merged with the large chair he’d used as a throne. Wood and flesh fused in a grotesque parody of royalty. His scream cut off as Kaz swung again, the ax cleaving through chair and prince alike.

Silence fell, broken only by our ragged breathing.

I dropped the pendant as if it burned, letting it fall beside the ring on the floor. The feeling of control lingered, making my skin crawl. I never wanted to touch either relic again.

A noise behind me made me turn. Zral stood swaying on his feet, one arm wrapped around his ribs, his face a map of cuts and bruises. But his eyes were clear, fixed on me with an intensity that made my heart stutter.

“You came back,” he said, voice rough with pain and something that might have been wonder.

“Someone had to save you,” I teased, though my voice cracked. I moved to his side, slipping my arm around his waist to support him. “Again.”

His laugh turned into a groan as he bent to press his forehead against mine. “My hero.”

I rose on my toes to meet his lips, tasting blood and sweat and relief. The mate bond hummed between us, warm and right. For the first time since I’d felt it spark, I didn’t fight against it. I leaned into it, into him.

A throat cleared behind us. I eased away, turning to face Kaz. His expression was unreadable, but his tail twitched with the familiar irritation I’d grown up with.

I lifted my chin, daring him to argue. “Kaz, this is Zral Shieldthorn. My mate.”

Kaz studied Zral for a long moment, taking in the bruises, the way he stood tall despite his injuries. Then, to my surprise, he stepped forward and clasped Zral’s hand in a firm shake.

“Welcome to the family,” he said, then suddenly yanked Zral closer. “And good luck. This is just a taste of the hell she puts us through.”