Chapter 17

PALOMA

“You want to be treated as an orc? Then free yourself.” Atox tosses the knife onto the bed.

The knife lands inches from my fingers. I can almost reach it, then Atox slams his hand against the light disc, and yanks the door closed behind him, plunging me back into darkness, bound, and helpless with a knife I can’t reach.

“Atox, you bastard, get back here and untie me!”

I’m less fearful of the dark thanks to Atox, but the fear still remains, especially when he left me here bound and alone earlier. I was terrified someone would assault me. To my surprise and relief, Atox returned.

This time, I don’t think he’ll return.

But I’m not as afraid now, either. Why? I’m still tied up and in the dark. Yes, I have a knife, but I can’t reach it.

I stretch my torso and my arms as much as I can and still can’t reach the knife. I sink back to the furs, wondering if I’m going about this whole thing with Atox wrong.

He doesn’t intend to humiliate me or make me vulnerable. If anything, I think he’s the one feeling vulnerable because I’m not giving him the one thing he needs from me.

Respect.

I never got much respect at home. I’d kept quiet there, given my father’s propensity to blame me for everything that went wrong. Atox doesn’t have my father’s temper, but he has a darkness in him I don’t understand. While I’ve seen him cut and threaten others who have challenged him, I know he’ll never hurt me.

Is that why I’ve been pushing him? So he’ll do something that will give me the excuse I need to run from here regardless of the dangers in the woods and swamps that lay between our settlements?

Oh, god… I’m thinking as if this is a relationship I’m in, as if I intend to stay with him.

I inhale a deep breath and stare into the blackness. He promised he wouldn’t let anyone touch me, and I believe him. Protecting his people, which now seems to include me, is high on his list of priorities.

How do I show him I respect him without giving in to his demands? Every time I submit to him, he touches me in ways that leave me twisted up inside, but not with fear. With want and need, but uncertainty about my future.

No man has ever put his mouth to my pussy, and yet this orc just feasted on me as if I’m covered in chocolate. Yet he didn’t take what most males would.

Atox isn’t like other men. He is complex and at the same time very straightforward. Everything about him is fierce and yet there is another side to him, hiding beneath the cold exterior, that I want to explore. If he’ll let me.

But I don’t think he will.

That knife sits less than an inch from me, taunting me. He’s going to make me work for my freedom. Does he think this will motivate me to give him my complete and utter obedience?

Again, I stretch muscles and push against the leather straps as much as I can, hoping they have enough give in them that I can reach the knife.

I don’t think I’ll ever forget how he touched me earlier. The male moved his hands over every inch of my naked body. And I didn’t flinch from embarrassment even though I’ve always been self-conscious when nude around others. I’ve seen the forced smiles on the men I’ve dated and know they only cared about having sex.

That heated look in Atox’s eyes earlier wasn’t from disgust but want. Desire. For all of me. And the way he touched me made me feel beautiful and sexy.

My weight is not an issue for him. But I’m human, and I fear that will keep him from seeing me as an equal.

He tossed the knife to me. Why? He could have left me here without any chance of escape.

Or was that the point? To show me escape is possible if I want it enough? Does he want me to leave him and his people? That makes no sense, as it contradicts everything he’s said.

He’s trying to reach me, to make me see things his way. But so am I.

And we’re both failing.

I try for the knife again, this time my forefinger brushes the tip. I wiggle, contort, and keep applying pressure against the leather straps. They’re starting to give a little.

I’m doing it! My finger’s touching more of the blade!

I continue pulling against the restraint all while questioning what to do about Atox. We may both be failing, but he hasn’t given up on me. And I haven’t tried to escape since I got here.

Why the eff not?

The truth slams into me like a foot to the chest. Despite all our differences, I might be better off here with him and his people. Nothing waits for me back at my colony, and returning to Earth… I cringe at the idea of boarding the Mayflower again knowing my attacker might still be there.

I’m not even sure what Earth is like under Coalition rule. At least here on Kovos, I might be able to see my sisters again. I’ve never asked Atox.

Fuck, I am thinking like I plan on staying.

Good sex isn’t a reason to marry a person.

No, not a person. An orc.

I have to stick to my original plan and avoid these reckless thoughts, but it’s near impossible when Atox’s hands and mouth touch every intimate part of me in a way that creates a need for more from the male.

Finally, I grip the knife tip with two fingers. It’s working!

I release a long-held breath when my hand wraps around the knife’s handle, upside down with the blade positioned against the leather. A sense of accomplishment washes over me as I start sawing through the thick binding.

When I think about it, Atox hasn’t done anything except push my boundaries. I should sit back and enjoy his touches.

What the fuck is wrong with me? I never would have thought I’d like to be tied down and have a guy licking me, tasting me, but this monster… this orc… this… fuck, I don’t even know what to call him at this point. All I know is he makes me feel like the sexiest, most desirable woman alive. And yet he’s never once asked for permission to touch me.

Though in all fairness, I get the sense asking isn’t the orc way, at least not for a grak.

That doesn’t excuse his actions. Or wouldn’t if he were human. But he’s orc. I shouldn’t judge him by human standards.

Sawing the leather at this awkward angle is frustratingly slow, but the tension of the leather eases as the blade cuts through bit by bit.

When I free myself, will he be proud of me?

Do I even care?

I shouldn’t care, but I do.

I look forward to leaving the tunnel, walking right up to him and … what? How do I play this? What is he expecting from me? Rage? An apology? A promise to behave?

An apology… I huff at the very idea, suppressing the urge to laugh. It’s not like he’d ever apologize to me. I’m the one who should be fuming over how he takes liberties with me. But I’m not. This is a different world with different rules. I need to understand orcs better. Starting with Atox.

Which means first getting past my own prejudices and anger. Atox sees me as his possession, nothing more. And to my surprise, that hurts more than being sold by my father.

“There, you arrogant bastard,” I swear at a non-present Atox when the leather splits, freeing my right hand.

As soon as I untie my other hand, I feel my way over the smooth rock toward the door and snag the light disc. Light fills the chamber.

I didn’t panic despite the dark. Huh.

Still pondering how that happened, I slip the torn tunic over my head then study the knife. It’s one continuous piece of metal with curvy lines near the top. Beautiful and elegant. Not what I’d expect from orcs. And that right there is my biggest problem. I don’t know much about them.

I take the leather restraints from the bed and tie them together, fashioning a belt with a loop for Atox’s knife. My knife now.

The tunnels appear as twisted and confusing as my first time through them. I got lucky this morning, following a warrior to the surface. He could have easily been going deeper into the mountain. This time, I wait in the main tunnel beyond Atox’s chamber until three males pass by.

When they eye me, my hand slides to my knife. Already, I feel safer, bolder. That’s when I realize I have to be proactive here, especially if this ends up being my home. I will not fall into old habits of letting a man dictate my every move, but I won’t flee in fear either.