5. Sarod

5

SAROD

I slam the door to my study, frustration boiling in my veins. That damn human girl's been nothing but trouble since I brought her here. Should've just had her killed for stealing from me. But no, I had to be... what? Merciful? Fuck that. The thought makes me want to punch something.

"Josie!" I bellow, my voice echoing through the halls like a war cry. The sound reverberates off the stone walls, making the very air tremble. I'm seething, my fists clenched at my sides as I wait for her to show her face. My tusks ache from how hard I'm clenching my jaw, and I can feel a vein pulsing in my temple.

She appears down the hall, defiance blazing in her eyes like twin infernos. "What now?" she spits, her tone dripping with insolence. The sight of her standing there, all five-foot-nothing of her, daring to challenge me, sends a fresh wave of anger coursing through me. Who the hell does she think she is?

This is my home, for fuck's sake.

I bare my tusks in a snarl. "The bathrooms need cleaning. All of them. And when you're done with that, start on the bedrooms. Every single one, top to bottom."

Her jaw clenches, the muscles working beneath her skin. I can see the tension rippling through her, like a predator ready to pounce. "I just cleaned them yesterday," she grits out. The defiance in her tone grates on my nerves, stoking the fire of my anger.

"Well, they're not up to my standards," I snap back, my patience wearing thinner by the second. I take a menacing step towards her, my massive frame dwarfing her petite form. "Do it again, and do it right this time. Or are you too incompetent to handle even the simplest tasks?" The words come out as a growl, my tusks gleaming in the dim light of the hallway.

She mutters something under her breath, her eyes flashing with barely contained rage. I strain to catch her words, but they're too low, too quick. It doesn't matter. The insolence is clear in every line of her body, in the way she glares up at me with those fierce eyes. For a moment, I'm caught between the urge to roar my frustration and a grudging admiration for her spirit. But I can't let her see that. I won't.

"What was that?" I growl, stepping closer. "You got something to say, girl? Speak up or get to work."

I glare down at Josie, her defiant stance only fueling my anger. The audacity of this girl, daring to speak to me like that. My fists clench at my sides, knuckles turning white with the effort of restraining myself.

"I said, maybe if you didn't have so many women traipsing through here, they wouldn't get dirty so fast," she repeats, her voice dripping with disdain.

My hand twitches, itching to grab her, to show her who's in charge. The urge to put her in her place is almost overwhelming, but I force myself to hold back. I won't give her the satisfaction of seeing me lose control.

"Watch your fucking mouth, thief," I snarl, leaning in close enough that I can see the flecks of gold in her eyes. "You're lucky I didn't turn you over to the authorities. Hell, you should be on your knees thanking me for my mercy."

Josie doesn't back down, her chin still lifted in stubborn defiance. "Oh yes, I'm so grateful to be your personal slave," she spits, her words laced with venom. "What would I ever do without the privilege of scrubbing your floors and cleaning up after your conquests?"

Her words hit a nerve, and I feel my temper flaring dangerously. "You brought this on yourself when you decided to steal from me," I growl. "Now get to work before I change my mind about letting you live. And trust me, there are fates far worse than death that I could subject you to."

She storms off, and I hear the clatter of cleaning supplies being yanked from a closet. Heading over to my sunroom, I pour myself a drink, trying to calm the rage coursing through me. Why does she get under my skin like this? She's just a human, a thief, nothing more.

But as I sip my wine, I can't shake the image of her fierce eyes, the way she stands up to me despite everything. It's... refreshing. No one's dared to challenge me like this in years. There's a fire in her that both infuriates and intrigues me. I find myself wondering what else she's capable of, how far she'd go to defy me.

I shake my head, disgusted with myself. What the fuck am I thinking? She's here to work off her debt, nothing more. I need to stop thinking about her altogether. She's just another human, and a thief at that. I've got no business letting her get under my skin like this. I down the rest of my drink in one gulp, hoping the burn of alcohol will erase her from my mind. But even as I pour another, I can't quite silence the nagging voice in the back of my head that whispers she might be different from the rest.

Hours later, I find Josie scrubbing one of the guest rooms. Her hair's a tangled mess, face flushed and sweaty from exertion. She doesn't notice me standing in the doorway, too focused on her task and muttering to herself as she works. The sight of her bent over, furiously attacking the floor with a brush, sends an unexpected jolt through me.

"Damn orc... thinks he's so much better than everyone else... I'll show him... Arrogant bastard..."

"You'll show me what?" I ask, unable to keep the smirk from my face as she jumps, nearly knocking over her bucket of soapy water.

She whirls around, those fierce eyes of hers flashing with anger and something else I can't quite place. "Nothing. I'm almost done here," she says, her voice clipped and cold.

I step into the room, surveying it with a critical eye, looking for any excuse to criticize her work. But it's spotless, damn her. The floors shine, the windows sparkle, and there's not a speck of dust to be seen. "Make sure you don't miss any corners, thief," I growl, frustrated by her competence. "I won't tolerate shoddy work in my home."

"I have a name, you know," she snaps, standing up and facing me head-on, her chin tilted defiantly.

I lean in close, my tusks nearly grazing her cheek. "Yeah, and it's 'thief' until you've paid off your debt. Don't forget your place here, girl."

As I leave her to her own devices, there's something that gives me pause. There's something... intriguing about her resilience. I shake my head, pushing the thought away. She's just a thief working off her debt, nothing more.

Later that evening, Greta approaches me in my study, her footsteps echoing softly on the polished floor. I'm buried fan letters and love mail, the usual tedium of managing my affairs.

"How's the human's work?" I ask gruffly, not bothering to look up from the stack of documents spread across my desk. My quill scratches against parchment as I sign yet another letter, thanking a wealthy fan for his exquisite gifts that he sends to my mansion.

"Surprisingly excellent, sir," Greta replies, a hint of admiration in her voice. "She's one of our best cleaners. I'd dare say she puts some of our long-time staff to shame."

I pause mid-signature, my eyebrow arching as I finally glance up at Greta. "Really?" I can't keep the skepticism from my tone. After all, the girl's a thief, not a maid.

Greta nods emphatically, her hands clasped in front of her apron. "Oh yes, sir. She's thorough, efficient, and doesn't complain. Well," she adds with a slight smirk, "not where we can hear her, at least."

I grunt, leaning back in my chair. I'm begrudgingly impressed, though I'll be damned if I show it. "Make sure she keeps it up," I order, waving a dismissive hand. "And keep an eye on her. I don't want her getting any ideas about slacking off or... reverting to old habits."

As Greta leaves, I find my thoughts drifting to the human girl. Maybe she's not entirely useless after all. But I quickly shake off the notion. She's still just a thief working off her debt, nothing more.

I can't afford distractions, not when I've worked my ass off to get where I am. Being captain of the team comes with expectations, responsibilities - and a whole lot of pressure. The crowd's roar, the thrill of victory, the rush of adrenaline as I score the winning goal - that's what matters. That's what I've built my life around.

But damn, it's lonely at the top. My reputation precedes me everywhere I go, like a shadow I can't shake. People want to be near me for my fame, my wealth, not for who I am beneath all the glitz and glory. I see it in their eyes, that hungry look that has nothing to do with me as a person.

I made that mistake with Connie, thinking she saw beyond the surface, thinking she actually gave a shit about me. Never again. I've learned my lesson the hard way, and I won't let anyone get close enough to hurt me like that again. It's safer this way, keeping everyone at arm's length. Easier. Lonelier, sure, but at least I'm in control.

I stand, pacing the room. The human girl's face flashes in my mind, her fierce determination. I growl, shoving the image away. I can't let myself get distracted. Zyrphix is everything. It has to be.