Page 8 of Unruly Hearts (Orcs of Red Mountain #2)

Agis

I stagger away from Serenity's cabin into the darkness. The mate bond pulls at me like an angry beast, making each step harder than the last. Pain rips through me, worse than any I've felt before. And I've felt plenty—bear traps, fists, the shame of losing my ancestor's blade to a card shark.

The bond screams at me to return, to explain, to beg. My tusks ache. The whiskey bottle I’d grabbed on my way out, dangles forgotten in my hand, and my bare chest is cold in the night air. But nothing compares to the cold emptiness where Serenity's warmth should be.

What could I even tell her? The truth is ugly. I'm just a gambler who lost too much money. A coward hiding from people I owe. Even in my thoughts it sounds weak.

My fingers twitch, and I know what's coming. The familiar hunger rises—for cards in my hands, for reading faces across the table, for losing myself in the game. One good hand could fix everything. Just one perfect game…

I hurl the whiskey bottle against a tree. It shatters like my promises, like my hopes. That thinking is what drove me here—betting heirlooms, owing money to dangerous men, and then disappointing everyone who had ever trusted me.

But maybe there's another path. Maybe I can turn this curse around, make it work for me instead.

One last game, but this time for something real.

Something pure.

A twig snaps behind me and I whirl, fists raised, welcoming the chance for violence. But it's Talon who melts from the shadows, his expression knowing.

"Brother," he says quietly, taking in my wild eyes and the mate-pain etched on my face. "The bond?"

I nod, unable to speak past the lump in my throat.

"Serenity?"

Another nod. Her name is a knife in my gut.

He sighs, heavy with understanding. "You're out here instead of with her because...?"

Talon sits next to me on a fallen tree. It creaks under our weight.

"She found my gambling papers," I tell him, rubbing my face. "I owe money. Big money."

"How much?" Talon asks. He's too calm about this. I eye him suspiciously.

"Enough to save the center." I snort at how stupid it all is. Here I am with nothing but debts, when the money I owe could help her.

"You could win it back."

I stare at my brother, searching his face for judgment, but I find none. "You think I should play?"

"You should use your skills to help your mate." His eyes, so like our father's, hold mine. "I know why you gamble, brother. It's not the money — it's the challenge, the strategy. You're actually brilliant at it when you're not being stupid."

"Thanks. I think."

"So be brilliant. But this time, do it for her. For something larger than yourself."

An idea forms in my head. I pull out my lucky casino chip and turn it over. "I'd need money to start."

"I have savings." His hand grips my shoulder, warm and sure. "I trust you."

Words I haven't heard in years. "You'd let me?"

He nods without hesitation.

"Fine." My head feels clearer now. "But first, I need to talk to Serenity."

Talon laughs. "Good luck. Human females hit hard when they're angry."

I rub my head, remembering her swat from earlier. My brother doesn't know how right he is.

I track her scent to her office, and my heart clenches at the smell of salt — tears. She sits surrounded by paperwork, her eyes red and swollen, her golden hair a mess from running her hands through it. The sight breaks something in my chest.

"Get out," she says. Her voice shakes. I watch her hands grip the desk hard.

"Not until we talk." I block the door with my body. The room feels too small for an orc my size. "Please."

She looks up finally. The hurt in her eyes makes my stomach twist. "Why? To tell more lies?"

"No more lies." I move closer, but carefully. Humans spook easy sometimes. "I gamble. I lose money. I do bad things. But everything about you and me is real."

"How do I know?"

"Because you feel the mate bond too." I kneel beside her chair and make myself smaller, vulnerable. "You feel it inside, like I do."

Her lip trembles. "That's not fair."

"I know." I take her small hand in mine, but I half-expect her to pull away. She doesn't. "I want to be better. For you. Let me show you."

"How?"

I tell her about the games, the cards, what I'm good at. What I plan to do. Her eyes get big.

"That's insane," she whispers. "And dangerous."

"Yes."

"You could get killed."

"Yes."

She stares at me. The bond pulses warm between us, like a heartbeat. "Teach me poker."

The words hit me like a punch. After everything—the papers she found, all my secrets, her tears—I didn't expect this. But there's fire in her eyes now.

"If we're doing this, we're doing it together," she says, hands clenched at her sides. "He killed my parents. He's trying to steal their legacy. I want to be part of taking him down."

"No." The word comes out like a growl. My chest rumbles with it. "These games are dangerous. These men kill people."

"So does Ethan." Her voice is steel. "And I'm your mate, remember? That means we're partners. In everything."

I want to refuse, to protect her, but the bond tells me what she needs most is to fight back.

For two days, I show her the cards. How to read faces. When to bet. She learns fast, like she does everything.

"We need insurance," she says on the third morning, pushing a thick folder across the table. "Mom kept records of everything. The equipment tampering, strange bank transfers, threats Ethan made. Enough to interest the police."

One hour later, we sit in the police station. It smells strange. Like humans and paper and coffee. Detective Morris has a shiny head and wears a gray suit. We put all our proof on his desk—the writing, the pictures, the money papers.

"Let me get this straight," Morris says, studying the documents. "You think he killed your parents over the land?"

"The chemical residue on their equipment matches industrial compounds used in his other developments," Serenity explains. "And now he's running illegal games and using them to pressure people into selling property."

"We can catch him saying it," I add. My voice sounds too loud in the small office. "If you let us wear the recording things."

Morris's eyes narrow. "You want to wear a wire?"

"He'll confess," Serenity insists. "He's cocky when he's winning. And with the evidence we have..."

"It's too dangerous." I grip her hand. "Let me do it alone."

"We're partners," she reminds me. Then to Morris: "We know his operation. The games, the schedule, everything. One night is all we need."

Morris studies us for a long moment. "You'll both wear wires. And we'll have teams in place." He fixes me with a stern look. "No heroics. Get the confession and get out."

On the drive home, Serenity grips the steering wheel. "Will it work?"

I feel her fear, but also her strength. "Has to."

The night comes too fast. She emerges from the bedroom in a black dress that makes my mouth go dry. I am filled with a possessive need—to protect her, to run her far from here, to keep her safe.

But her chin is set, her eyes determined. "Ready?" she asks.

"No." The word tastes bad. "But we go anyway."

***

We head to one of Ethan's casinos, the Starlight Palace. The lights hurt my eyes—blue and purple everywhere. Gold on the doors. Lots of humans are going inside, hoping to win.

My friends who gamble told me about a special game tonight. Big money. Ethan always plays these games. He owns the place but can't stay away when the bets get high. My friend says he's playing tonight.

I show them the money and they let us in fast. Easy to get in the special card game.

The room hits my nose hard—smoke, whiskey, humans who lost too much. Everyone stares when we walk in. Can't blame them—I'm a big orc squeezed into human clothes. Serenity looks perfect next to me, with her pretty blonde hair and tight black dress.

"Well, well." That voice makes me want to fight. "Look who's here."

Ethan walks up. His eyes crawl over Serenity like something dirty. My hands want to crush him. But Serenity touches my arm, so I stay still.

"Heard about a game." I try to sound calm. "Unless you're scared to play cards with an orc."

His eyes get small. "Costs fifty thousand to play."

I toss Talon's savings on the table—my brother's trust made tangible. "Deal me in."

The first hours are a dance. I lose small, win smaller, all while watching Ethan get looser with each drink. His tells become more obvious — the way he taps his fingers when bluffing, how he leans back with strong hands.

Serenity brings drinks around. I watch Ethan watch her. His eyes get angry when he looks at her.

"Remember that last hike with your folks?" Ethan says during a shuffle. The whiskey makes his words sloppy. "Good climbing stuff matters. One bad rope..." He waves his hand down, like something falling.

Serenity's hand trembles slightly as she sets down his whiskey. "Mom always checked everything three times."

"Didn't help much in the end, did it?" He laughs, too loud. "Sometimes things just... fail."

Ethan motions to his staff, and they bring him a yellow envelope. He tosses it on the table. "Deed to the wildlife center." His smile is pure poison. "Worth millions to developers."

My body goes cold. I look at Serenity. Her face is white.

"That's not yours," she says with steel in her voice.

"Actually, it is. Your daddy signed it over right before he died."

She goes pale. I grip her hand under the table, pouring strength through our bond.

"Fine." I match his smile with my own predatory grin. "All in."

Serenity trembles next to me.

Ethan doesn't look at me anymore. His eyes stay on my mate. Bad eyes, like a snake's.

Glancing around the room, verifying no one else is in listening distance, he leans forward, "You know, your parents were stubborn too, Serenity. Wouldn't sell, wouldn't take my offers."

More chips slide into the pot. "Amazing how equipment can fail, even for experienced climbers."

Serenity asks, "What did you do?"

"Just a little acid on the rope. A frayed carabiner." His smile widens. "Shame they didn't sign the papers before their... accident. Had to get creative with the signatures."

I feel Serenity's fear through our bond. Makes my tusks ache. But I look at my cards. All my years playing poker help now. The cards feel good in my hands. Normal.

Then I get the perfect hand - straight flush. Like the cards want me to win. But when I show them, Ethan's face turns purple with anger.

"You cheated!" The words barely register before I see the gun.

Everything gets clear and slow. My orc body moves fast—I flip the big wood table with one hand, grab Serenity with the other. BANG! Pain hits my shoulder, but I don't care. Must protect mate.

"Get the papers," I say. Use my big body to hide her. Smell her fear and blood and gun smoke. Makes me want to kill.

She moves like a shadow beneath me while I keep Ethan distracted, hurling poker chips at him. Each shot that rings out makes my heart stop until I confirm it hasn't found her.

Air smells like blood and fear. Humans scream. Things crash.

Blue and red lights flash through windows. "Police! Don't move!"

Still keep Serenity behind me when police come in. My shoulder burns bad, blood on my shirt. Show my tusks at healers who come close. Only let them near when I feel through our bond that Serenity is safe.

Relief floods through me. We're alive. We won.

And Ethan will never threaten her again.