20. Josie

20

JOSIE

G rokus shoves me into his dingy hovel, despite my cries. The stench of sweat and rotting food assaults my nostrils, making me gag. Filth covers every surface, and I struggle not to touch anything as he pushes me further inside. My skin crawls at the thought of being trapped here, in this disgusting pit that Grokus calls home.

"Welcome to your new home, human," Grokus sneers, his foul breath hot on my face. "Not as fancy as Sarod's place, is it?" His yellow teeth gleam in the dim light, and I fight the urge to spit in his face.

I clench my fists, fighting the urge to shrink away from him. "Let me go," I demand, my voice shakier than I'd like. I hate how weak I sound, but fear grips me tightly. I've never felt so alone, so vulnerable. My eyes dart around, searching for anything I could use as a weapon, but all I see is decay and ruin.

He laughs, a harsh, grating sound that sends chills down my spine and makes my stomach churn. "You're not going anywhere, little bitch. You're mine now." His words drip with malice, and I can smell the stench of alcohol on his breath.

"I belong to no one," I spit back, though fear gnaws at my insides like a ravenous beast.

Grokus grabs my chin, his meaty fingers digging painfully into my skin as he forces me to look into his cruel eyes. I try to jerk away, but his grip is like iron. "You're nothing but a plaything for orcs like us. Sarod may have forgotten that, but I haven't." His yellow teeth gleam as he leers at me, and I feel bile rising in my throat. I silently pray for someone, anyone, to come to my rescue, but deep down, I know I'm on my own.

I try to wrench away, but his grip is like a vise, unyielding and painful. My heart races as I struggle, desperate to put some distance between us. "Sarod will come for me," I say, forcing the words out through gritted teeth. I hope I sound more confident than I feel, but the tremor in my voice betrays me yet again.

Grokus's lips curl into a cruel, predatory grin, revealing his yellowed tusks. The sight makes my skin crawl. "Oh, I'm counting on it," he sneers, his foul breath washing over me. "That's the whole point, you stupid girl. You're the bait."

My stomach drops, a cold dread settling in the pit of my belly. I'd suspected as much, but hearing it confirmed makes it all too real. The realization hits me like a punch to the gut – I'm just a pawn in his twisted game, a means to an end. I feel used, helpless, and more afraid than ever.

Summoning what little courage I have left, I meet his gaze defiantly. "He won't fall for it," I lie, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. But even as I say it, I know full well that Sarod's pride won't let this stand. He'll come charging in, right into whatever trap Grokus has set. And it'll be all my fault.

Grokus releases my chin, only to grab a fistful of my hair. "He will. And when he does, I'll crush him. Do you really think I was going to let what he did to me slide? He thinks he can walk all over me. Well, the bastard should've known better. I'll catch him off guard. Then you'll see what a real orc can do."

I bite my lip hard to keep from crying out, tasting the metallic tang of blood on my tongue. "You're pathetic," I hiss, my voice dripping with venom. "Using me to get to him because you can't beat him fair and square. What kind of warrior are you?"

His backhand comes so fast I don't even see it coming. Pain explodes across my cheek, and I stumble backward, my vision blurring for a moment. My head spins, and I have to brace myself against the wall to keep from falling.

"Watch your tongue, human," Grokus snarls, his foul breath hot on my face as he leans in close. "Or I'll cut it out and feed it to the hounds. Don't think I won't."

I touch my stinging face, feeling the heat of what will surely become a bruise. Glaring at him with all the hatred I can muster, I try to pour every ounce of loathing I feel into my gaze. But beneath the anger, despair threatens to overwhelm me. I'm trapped here with this monster, this brute who seems to revel in causing pain, and there's nothing I can do about it. My heart races, and I struggle to keep my breathing steady, not wanting to show him just how terrified I really am.

Grokus paces the small room, his massive frame seeming to take up all the available space. "Sarod thinks he's so much better than the rest of us," he rants. "Prancing around with his fancy jewelry and human whores. It's time someone put him in his place."

I want to scream, to fight back, to do something. But I know it would only make things worse. So I stand there, trembling with fear and rage, as Grokus continues to spew his venom. My hands clench into fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms, as I struggle to maintain some semblance of control.

"And you," he turns back to me, eyes gleaming with malice. "You'll learn your place too. By the time I'm done with you, you'll be begging to serve a real orc." His words send a chill down my spine, and I have to swallow hard to keep the bile from rising in my throat.

The cold bite of metal against my wrists makes me wince as Grokus roughly chains me to the wall. The rusty shackles dig into my skin, and I bite back a whimper, determined not to show weakness. I can feel the rough stone behind me, cold and unyielding, as I press myself against it, trying to put as much distance between myself and this monster as possible. My heart beats so loudly in my chest that I'm sure he must be able to hear it, but I force myself to meet his gaze, silently daring him to do his worst.

"There," Grokus grunts, giving the chains a hard yank that sends a jolt of pain through my wrists. "That ought to keep you put until your precious Sarod arrives." His foul breath washes over me, and I have to fight the urge to gag.

I glare at him, channeling all my anger and fear into defiance. My heart races, but I won't let him see how terrified I truly am. "You're making a big mistake," I spit out, my voice steadier than I feel.

He laughs, the sound grating on my nerves like nails on a chalkboard. His yellow teeth flash in the dim light as he sneers down at me. "The only mistake was Sarod thinking he could get away with humiliating me. You're just collateral damage, human." The way he says 'human' makes my skin crawl, like I'm something less than dirt beneath his feet.

As Grokus turns away, muttering to himself about revenge and settling scores, I close my eyes and take a deep breath. The musty air of the dungeon fills my lungs, and I try to center myself. I can't let him break me. I won't. Sarod will come, I tell myself. He has to. And when he does, Grokus will rue the day he ever laid a hand on me.

My thoughts drift to Sarod, and a warmth spreads through my chest despite the dire circumstances. I remember the feel of his strong arms around me, the way his eyes softened when he looked at me when he thought I wasn't noticing. It seems like a lifetime ago now, but I cling to those memories.

Sarod will come for me. I know he will. Our connection runs deeper than either of us wanted to admit, but now, facing the possibility of never seeing him again, I can't deny it anymore.

I think back to that night in the garden, the passion that ignited between us. It wasn't just lust – there was something more, something real. The way Sarod's rough hands had caressed my skin so gently, the intensity in his amber eyes as they locked with mine – it had awakened something deep within me. I draw strength from that bond now, using it to steel my resolve against whatever Grokus has planned.

Opening my eyes, I survey the grimy room, looking for anything I can use to my advantage. The stone walls are damp and moldy, and the air reeks of decay. There's not much here – a rickety wooden chair, a few rusty chains hanging from the ceiling, and the iron shackles binding my wrists. But I refuse to give up. I've survived worse than this orc brute, and I'll survive him too. After all, I didn't claw my way out of poverty and make it this far just to be broken by some jealous bully.

As Grokus stomps around, his heavy footfalls echoing off the walls, he rants about his plans for Sarod. His voice is grating, full of spite and malice. I tune him out, letting his words wash over me without sinking in. Instead, I focus on formulating my own plan. My eyes dart around, cataloging every detail of my prison. I may be chained, but my mind is free. And right now, that's my greatest weapon. I've always relied on my wits to survive, and they won't fail me now. Sarod's coming, I know it – I just need to stay alive and sane until he does.