24. Josie

24

JOSIE

I clench my fists so tight my nails dig painfully into my palms, leaving crescent-shaped marks as I glare daggers at Grokus. The bastard's got a smug, self-satisfied grin plastered on his ugly mug as he paces back and forth in front of me like some predator toying with its prey. His beady eyes rove over my body in a way that makes my skin crawl and my stomach churn with disgust.

"Look at you," he sneers, his voice dripping with contempt. "Thinking you're something special just 'cause Sarod's taken a liking to you. But we both know what you really are – nothing but human trash. A plaything he'll toss aside when he's done."

I feel a spark of defiance flare in my chest, hot and bright. Without thinking, I spit at his feet, a glob of saliva landing dangerously close to his worn boots. "And you're nothing but a spineless coward who can't handle a real fight," I snarl back. "You're just jealous Sarod sees something in me. We share something special that you've never experienced before. And you hate that."

Grokus's face contorts with rage, his tusks gleaming in the dim light as he bares his teeth. He lunges forward, meaty fingers grabbing my chin roughly. The stench of his breath washes over me as he growls, "Watch your mouth, little girl. You have no idea what I'm capable of."

I wrench my face away from his grip, my heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat. But I refuse to let him see my fear. I meet his gaze, my own eyes burning with defiance. "Oh, I think I do," I spit back, my voice steadier than I feel. "You're weak, Grokus. That's why you had to kidnap me instead of facing Sarod like a real warrior."

His nostrils flare, and for a moment, I think he might hit me. I brace myself, muscles tensing, ready for the blow. I'm used to it by now.

Instead, he turns away with a snarl, stomping over to a nearby table. The sound of metal scraping against stone fills the air, sending chills down my spine as he picks up a wicked-looking blade. My breath catches in my throat as he examines the edge, the firelight glinting off its cruel curve. What have I gotten myself into?

I feel my breathing quicken as Grokus's words sink in. The threat hangs heavy in the air, suffocating me with its weight. I struggle to maintain my composure, but I can feel my hands trembling at my sides.

"You think I'm weak?" he growls, running a finger along the edge of the weapon. His eyes gleam with a savage hunger that makes my skin crawl. "Let's see how brave you are when I start carving you up."

I swallow hard, fighting to keep my voice steady. The taste of fear is bitter on my tongue, but I refuse to let him see how terrified I truly am. "You really think hurting me will prove anything?" I challenge, mustering every ounce of defiance I can. "It'll just show everyone how pathetic you really are."

Grokus's eyes narrow as he turns back to me, the blade glinting in the dim light. The way he looks at me, like I'm nothing more than prey, sends ice through my veins. "Oh, I'm going to do more than hurt you, girl," he snarls, his voice dripping with malice. "By the time I'm done, Sarod won't even recognize what's left of you."

I feel my breath catch in my throat, my mind racing to find a way out of this nightmare. Panic claws at my insides, threatening to overwhelm me. But as Grokus takes a menacing step towards me, his hulking frame blocking out what little light filters into this hellhole, I realize with sickening clarity that I might not walk away from this encounter unscathed – if I walk away at all.

He moves closer, the tip of the blade hovering inches from my face. I can see my own terrified reflection in its polished surface, my eyes wide with fear. The stench of his breath washes over me, reeking of stale ale and malice. But I force myself to meet Grokus's gaze, refusing to back down even as every instinct screams at me to cower.

"You're nothing but a coward," I spit out, even as my heart threatens to beat out of my chest. My voice wavers slightly, but I press on, summoning every ounce of defiance I can muster. "Sarod will find me, and when he does, you'll regret ever laying a hand on me. He'll make you wish you'd never been born, you pathetic excuse for an orc."

That's when I hear it—a distant crash, followed by shouts and the unmistakable sound of splintering wood. My heart leaps into my throat, a surge of wild hope coursing through me like liquid fire. Could it be? Is Sarod really here, coming to my rescue?

Grokus's ugly face twists in confusion, his beady eyes darting towards the commotion near the front entrance of his lair. His grip on my arm loosens just a fraction. "What the fuck?" he snarls, momentarily distracted from tormenting me. I can see the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, replacing the cruel satisfaction that had been there moments before.

I struggle against the chains binding my wrists, wincing as they chafe against my raw skin. The pain barely registers through the adrenaline now pumping through my veins, turning my blood to lightning. My whole body trembles with desperate anticipation. I was right all along. Sarod didn't forget about me. He's here, tearing through Grokus's defenses like they're made of paper. A hysterical laugh bubbles up in my throat, but I choke it back. I can't let Grokus see how much this means to me, how much hope has suddenly blossomed in my chest.

The sounds grow louder—grunts of exertion and the unmistakable roar that can only belong to one orc. Sarod. He came for me. Despite everything, despite our rocky start and all the reasons he shouldn't care, he actually came.

"Sounds like your boyfriend's here," Grokus sneers, grabbing my chin roughly. His fingers dig into my skin, and I can smell his rancid breath as he leans in close. The stench makes my stomach churn. "Too bad he won't find you in one piece." His eyes glitter with malice, and I fight the urge to shrink away from his touch.

"I told you he was coming for me, you fucking idiot," I reply with enough venom in my voice to kill an army. "He cares for me. He loves me!" The words burst out of me before I can stop them, a declaration that surprises even me with its intensity.

"Shut up!" Grokus growls, tightening his grip on my chin. His fingers press so hard I'm sure they'll leave bruises. "Shut. Up." His face contorts with rage, and for a moment, I think he's going to start choking the life out of me right here and now. I brace myself, determined not to show weakness, even as my pulse thunders in my ears.

He wants to kill my spirit, but I've been through far too much in this life to let an orc like him triumph over me.

"No, I won't shut up!" I grit my teeth, a spark of defiance flaring up inside me. The pain from his grip only fuels my anger, and I meet his gaze without flinching. "You're the one who's gonna be in pieces when he's done with you," I snarl back. My voice comes out stronger than I feel, but I cling to that strength, refusing to let Grokus see how terrified I really am.

The door to the room suddenly splinters, wood flying everywhere as something - or someone - crashes through it with stone-shattering force. My breath hitches in my throat and I can barely breathe, every nerve in my body electrified with tension and hope.

"Sarod!" I can't help but cry out, straining against my bonds with renewed vigor. My heart races, pure relief coursing through me like a tidal wave. I can feel the chains digging into my skin, but I barely notice the pain. My eyes lock onto his, and in that moment, nothing else matters. He's here. He came for me. The fury etched across his face makes my chest tighten with emotion.

He cares about me. He's here for me. He loves me.

All of those nights of self-doubt, wondering if I don't matter to him… those were all futile. With one action, Sarod has put to rest all of those sabotaging thoughts.

Grokus whirls around, his face contorting with rage. He flips the blade from one hand to another, the metal gleaming ominously in the dim light. "Come on then, you lovestruck fool," he growls, baring his yellowed teeth. "Let's see if you can save your little human whore." His words drip with venom, and I feel a chill run down my spine.

The dust settles, revealing Sarod standing in the doorway, his massive frame filling the space. He's breathing heavily, his chest heaving with each breath. His eyes lock onto mine for a split second, and I see a storm of emotions there - relief, fury, and something else that makes my breath catch. It's intense, almost primal, and it sends a jolt through me.

"Get away from her," Sarod growls. The sound rumbles through the room, and I can feel the tension crackling in the air. "Now."

That single word carries the weight of a threat, and I can see Grokus tense up, readying himself for a fight. He growls low, tightening his hold on the dagger with a flex of his fist. I hold my breath, knowing that whatever happens next will determine my fate.