Chapter Nine

EVIE

I was luckier than Breac. I was placed on a horse with the scarred orc, who told me his name was Brokil. He was scary, terrifying in fact, but he stood up for me against that nasty one, Grokk, who seemed to have a grudge against Breac. Brokil wouldn't let Grokk near me, especially after I broke his nose, something I was still pleased about. He even gave me a wet cloth to clean the blood from Grokk's nose. Otherwise, he refused to speak to me, even when I asked why he was part of this group when he seemed different. He just tightened his grip and told me to be silent.

Breac was forced to walk, more like run, since they kept the horses at a steady fast pace. When Breac stumbled, they dragged him.

"Please, stop! You'll hurt him," I cried, when it happened for the third time. The orcs all laughed, and I think they did it on purpose.

Brokil tightened his arm around me and placed his mouth to my ear. "Watch your words, human. Remember, he betrayed you. He was going to hand you over to the king."

Damn it. I had almost forgotten about that. Well, not really forgotten about it, more like shoved it to the back of my mind and tried to ignore it while I was dealing with a more serious issue.

"He wouldn't have done it. He would have figured another way out. You heard him. I'm not even the female from the prophecy."

Brokil fingered the red tips of my dark hair, tips I was once proud of, tips that now may have damned me to a life of sexual servitude. "You know that's just dye, right? I have black hair. That will fade and can be cut off."

Brokil shrugged. "Maybe. But right now, you could fit the prophecy. It won't matter. All females are to be brought to the king, no exceptions. Breac broke the law when he mated you."

"He can't be the only one to have done that. I didn't even know we were mated." Didn't he have to ask me about it? I was going home anyway as soon as I got to a portal or something.

"The bond can form unexpectedly. He would have known it was developing. He should have walked away. You have condemned him and his family to death, little human." His tone was severe, and I gulped.

"That was never my intention. I just wanted to go home."

"That option is closed to you now," he said with an air of finality and despair swamped me.

I settled back in the saddle, trying to keep a distance between myself and Brokil. Riding was not the same as with Breac. Brokil didn't feel the same or smell the same. It felt wrong to be with him. As angry as I was with Breac, I just wanted to be with him. Laughter filled the group, and I saw Breac back on the ground, on hands and knees, his head bowed, exhaustion filling him.

"Brokil, do something. They'll kill him before we get to the king," I begged, not caring about the future. I just wanted Breac to survive.

Suddenly, an arrow whistled through the air, embedding itself in Grokk's throat, cutting off his loud jeers. He fell off his horse, gurgling, blood spurting from his neck.

Chaos erupted. More arrows rained down, felling collectors left and right. A massive orc burst from the underbrush, his sword flashing in the fading light. Then other orcs entered from other angles, surrounding us, brandishing swords. Brokil turned his horse and moved away from the fighting, but didn't engage, nor attempt to flee.

The fight was brutal and short, the collectors no match for the attackers. They cut through the remaining collectors like avenging angels, only whose side were they on? In moments, it was over, with the collectors dead except for Brokil. But where did that leave Breac and I?

One of the orcs strode towards us, his fierce gaze softening as it fell on me, still held tightly by Brokil. He nodded for Brokil to cut my bonds. "Are you alright, my lady?" he asked, voice surprisingly gentle.

I nodded, trembling. "Who are you?"

He ignored my question, looking instead at Brokil. "Are we missing anyone?"

Brokil grunted. "Grokk was too arrogant to send a messenger to the king. You got them all."

The male nodded, then turned to Breac, surrounded by the remaining orcs, swords pointed at him. "Breac the Loyal. The right hand of the king. I didn't expect to see you bound and beaten by your own orcs."

"They're not my orcs," Breac spat.

"You should kill him. He works for the king," a younger orc growled from behind the orc who was clearly the leader, his gaze filled with hatred.

The leader studied Breac thoughtfully while I held my breath, his head cocked to the side. "Not yet. I believe we have things to discuss before we consider his punishment. First, we ride."

Breac nodded, not lifting his head. Something was going on. There were more secrets, layers that I didn't understand. I was so tired of being lied to. Someone better explain everything to me or I was going to lose my shit.

W e rode for several hours, with me staying with Brokil and Breac back on Mankala. I may not know the landscape or where anything was in this new world, but we had definitely diverged from our path. The leader, who I found out was named Torgan, took us on a right angle path, moving hard and fast into more rugged terrain. The orcs who followed him were a more militant group, speaking little, on alert for attacks, but I felt safe with them, as safe as I could be. No one spoke to Breac, though two orcs were assigned to watch him, escorting him on the path. When I tried to speak to Brokil, he hushed me and focused on the ride.

Once we made camp by a stream, everyone had a task except for me. I sat alone by the fire, my mind reeling from the day's revelations. The warmth of the flames did nothing to chase away the chill that had settled in my bones. Breac had lied to me. All this time, every moment we'd shared, every touch, every kiss... it had all been a ploy to deliver me to the king.

Tears stung my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I was so tired of being used, of being nothing more than a pawn in someone else's game. Back home, it had been my family using me as a pawn to hurt each other, then ignoring me or pretending I didn't exist. Here, in this strange world, it was Breac using me to save his own skin and his family. I sympathized with his motives, but just once I wanted someone to think of me, to want me.

And the worst part? I'd fallen for him. Hard. I'd let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, I'd finally found someone who saw me for who I was. Someone who would put me first.

But I was wrong. Again.

"May I join you?" a deep voice asked, startling me from my thoughts.

I looked up to see Torgan, the orc who had saved us from the collectors. He was intimidating in size, fierce and dominating, like Breac, but there was a gentleness in his eyes that put me at ease.

"Of course," I said, gesturing to the log beside me.

Torgan settled himself, his massive frame dwarfing mine. For a moment, we sat in silence, watching the flames dance.

"I do not understand you or how you came to our world, but I'm sure this is overwhelming to you," he began. "I thought you might want to know more about the situation you've found yourself in."

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

Torgan sighed heavily. "King Gnarlug, my uncle, is a cruel and ruthless ruler. When I was younger, I loved him. He was very close to me, teaching me how to fight and acting as one of my advisors. Whether it was all an act or not, something changed and he began to plot against my father. He led a coup, murdering my father and forcing my mother to mate with him to save me. I suspect he killed my sister since she has disappeared since the coup. I barely escaped with my life. He has sent assassins after me for years, but I survived."

My hand flew to my mouth in horror. "That's terrible," I whispered.

He nodded grimly. "I was forced into exile to save my life. For ten years, I've been building a rebellion, gathering allies to help me reclaim the throne and bring peace to our people."

"And Breac?" I couldn't help but ask.

Torgan's eyes softened. "He is a harder case. He was never allowed to escape. I know his mother and brother are prisoners of the king, though the king calls them guests. But he willingly worked for the king, performing heinous acts on orders. Not unlike Grokk. He was also a son of a nobleman."

"Breac is nothing like Grokk. Breac hates what he's been ordered to do," I cried.

"Does he? That is the question. He would be the ultimate spy, pretending to hate the king and betraying our intentions," Torgan replied.

"I can't picture Breac doing that, but I clearly don't know," I said, a hint of bitterness creeping into my voice. "He told be about his past, his family. But he never told me he was going to betray me."

"I know," Torgan said gently. "And I'm not excusing his actions. But if he is telling the truth, perhaps he felt trapped, with no other choice."

I looked away, conflicted. Part of me wanted to forgive Breac, to understand his impossible situation. But another part, the part that had been hurt too many times before, wanted to run as far away as possible.

Torgan stood, his massive form blocking out the firelight for a moment. "We will help you get home if that is what you want, though I can't promise you when that will be," he said. "But before you make any decisions, I think you should talk to Breac."

I nodded, not meeting his eyes. "I'll think about it," I murmured.

As Torgan walked away, I hugged my knees to my chest, staring into the flames. I'd come to this world by accident, thrust into a conflict I barely understood. Now, I had to decide—did I run back to the safety of my own world, or stay and fight for something more?

And Breac... could I forgive him? Could I trust him again?

I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on me. Whatever choice I made, I knew one thing for certain—nothing would ever be the same again.