Page 4 of The Orc's Eager Captive

Until she’d touched me.

Somethinghad passed through me then and I made myself lift my gaze to hers.

Her eyes were blue. A startling, clear blue that reminded me of the summer sky over the Highlands. And that, more than anything, gave me strength.

But when she prodded my ruined eye, I couldn’t help my hiss of pain. Her worried gaze shot back to mine.

“I am sorry,” she whispered. “You will likely lose this eye.”

“Aye.”

My voice was gravelly, long unused. Was this the first I’d spoken in three months? I couldn’t remember. I couldn’t remember many things.

Her blue gaze flickered across my face, as if searching for something. Something I couldn’t give her.

“I am Lillian,” she finally said, turning her attention back to cleaning the blood from my wounds.

I swallowed, my throat raw. “I ken.”

“And you are the Bloodfire Chief.”

“Kragorn.” At her inquisitive glance, I expanded. “My name.”

Her lips parted on a little noise of understanding, and I couldn’t stop myself from studying them. They were small and weak-looking, just like the rest of her. So why were they so intriguing?

“Kragorn,” she repeated, going back to her poking and prodding.

Ah.

At the sound of my name on those lips, myKteerstirred.

And frankly, ‘twas a good sign. Even in my fevered, confused state, I could recognize myKteer—that primal, primitive part which pushed me tolive—had been silent since my most recent defeat. I owed this human for bringing it back to life.

Slowly, I straightened…or tried to. The chains stretching my arms wide had molded my muscles, although the twinges of pain from the movement were the least of my concerns right now.

To my surprise, she didn’t stiffen in alarm, but merely glanced up at me again. This little female caught my gaze, held it…

And I realized she wasn’t breathing.

“Lillian,” I murmured.

Nowshe jerked away, dropping her hold on me with a small squeak, scuttling backward as if I could reach for her. Now her breaths came too fast as her wide blue gaze watched warily.

Exhaling, I slumped again.

“You need…” she began then trailed off.

I wasn’t certain what she’d meant to say, but suddenly, she bent to scoop up the bowl from the tray she’d carried.

“Here,” she blurted. “Broth. ‘Twill help you regain your strength. To heal.”

Is that what she wanted?

Is that what these humans—these sadistic, cruel humans—wanted?

But Lillian hadn’t been cruel, had she?

My stomach, which had been empty since my ill-fated escape attempt, cramped with hunger. My throat was dry from thirst.