Chapter 4

PALOMA

“Don’t you dare put your filthy hands on me,” I snap at the orc as he pulls the backpack from my shoulder and tosses it to one of his men. This beast thinks he owns me. Technically, he does, at least according to the terms of this disgusting treaty between our peoples.

“I will put my hands, my mouth, and my cock wherever I please,” the brute whispers low, his mouth tracing along my ear, sending an unexpectedly pleasant shiver through me.

The last time I slept with a man was three years ago, on Earth. Nicholas had been in his thirties and knew how to get a woman into his bed. But when he finished, he got rid of me as fast as he could. Said he didn’t want to be seen with me in public. I always wondered if that was because of my weight or because he was a one-night-stand slimeball always looking for the next hook-up.

This orc reminds me of Nicholas. Not physically, of course. But the attitude. I see it in his face; he’s repulsed by me.

The feeling’s mutual. I don’t give a fuck what he thinks of me. We’re not dating. I’m being sold into sexual servitude. I don’t need or want to impress him. Quite the opposite. If I can’t escape, my back-up plan will be straightforward. Making him hate me enough to get rid of me.

The wind changes direction and a cloud of foul odor from the smelly orc-horses strikes me harder than my father’s hand. I’m trying not to breathe as I glare at him, the orc who’s bought me.

He glares right back.

A contest of wills, then? Sure, I can do that. I’ve stared down each of my sisters when they tried to weasel their way out of chores. I’m an expert at this.

The massive male grabs me by the waist and tosses me over his shoulder like the proverbial sack of flour I’ve become. Despite my size, he carries me away with ease.

“Put me down!” I demand, pounding his lower back.

He ignores me and instead barks Orcan words from his tusk-laden lips to the other orcs.

They move as one, this horde, as they approach their mounts, massive beasts who stand taller and wider than any horse. Hides thicker than an armadillo’s stretch over long backs that can easily fit three humans. The beasts are as ugly as their owners.

Part of me wonders if an orc-horse’s six legs are needed to support its weight or give it an advantage in running. The most disturbing part about these beasts has to be the spiny horns running along the midline of their heads, and down the thick rat-like tails that drag along the ground. Those tails look deadly, like some medieval whip designed to embed the spines in a person’s flesh and inflict maximum damage when pulled out.

The orc carrying me grips the back of my thigh and squeezes.

“Are you as deaf as you are ugly? Put me down!”

He slams me to my feet and backs me into the side of one of those foul-smelling gray beasts. A massive hand wraps around my throat and squeezes, scaring the shit out of me. He applies enough pressure to make it clear he can kill me in seconds. Oddly, I don’t fear death, not when the alternative will be much worse.

Dark green eyes narrow and a growl surfaces from his throat causing me to stop thrashing, stop breathing, stop thinking… and listen to him.

“You do not want to challenge me, female. I am grak. My word is law. No one will come to your aid. Your life, food, shelter… all depend on me, and me alone. You are mine to do with as I please. You will obey me, or you will suffer until you accept my authority.”

His words paralyze me. Every part of my body shuts down. He’ll make my life hell. The dark expression on his face and the way his hand locked around my neck like a vise, leave no doubt in my mind.

“I never agreed to this. Any of this.” My words come out as a squeak given his hand on my throat. “I will never accept this. Or you.”

Those dark green eyes darken. There’s nothing left to do but stare and hope he takes pity on me.

No such luck. He picks me up at my waist and tosses me and my backpack into a cart filled with hay. Dirty hay. A cart for transporting animals to and from the market. That’s all I am to these monsters. An animal to be caged and used.

Four orcs hoist themselves onto their mounts without saddles or blankets. The fifth orc, the one who appears younger than the rest, drives the cart pulled by one of their six-legged beasts.

I lie down in the dirty hay and let my tears flow. I’m not even sure what hurts more, knowing these orcs will only ever see me as a breeder, or the betrayal that sentenced me to my bleak future.

When I hug my backpack, the last vestige I have of my home, I remember my father putting a leather pouch in from Camila. Quickly, I unbuckle the pack and withdraw the pouch, hoping it’s something I can use, like a knife.

My fingers sift through the pouch. No knife. Not even a butter knife. Or a fork. Or makeshift shiv. Nothing but homemade tampons. How very practical of Cami.

Disappointment hits me all over again. Of all my sisters, I thought she’d find a way to help me.

Then I see the flash of silver beneath the tampons. I’m hoping it’s a knife after all. My fingers grip stiff foil. I withdraw the blister packaging and see a very rare commodity in our colony. Birth control pills. One month’s worth.

The Mayflower arrives in a month…

Cami couldn’t keep me from being sold, but she found a way for me to avoid getting pregnant while I figure out how to escape the orcs. I hide the pills where I found them and close my backpack. I can’t afford to lose these pills unless I want to end up pregnant by an orc. Which I definitely do not.

As the cart bounces beneath me along the rough dirt road, I stare out at the blur of trees, my thoughts too scattered to focus on developing an escape plan. I close my eyes and the next time I look at the sky, the first sun is setting. Two, maybe three hours have passed since the orcs took me. I must have zoned out for a while.

Neither the driver of this cart or the orcs riding in front of it have spoken to me since we left my colony. I am livestock, after all.

The orcs speak amongst themselves in Orcan so I can’t understand them. Five orcs collected me. A show of force yet none of them bothers looking back to check on me.

Which gives me an idea.

I peer over the side, watching the road carefully for the perfect spot to jump.

ATOX IM GRAK

Verig spurshis gorja next to mine. “You’re distracted, Atox.”

I struggle not to tug at my trou which has become too tight for riding atop my mount. Even two hours into our journey home, I cannot take my mind off my female and how she stirs my cock with her defiance. I am eager to sink into her warm heat, but not here among my men. Not that I would mind claiming her in public, but that would only make them painfully aware that they don’t have a female.

From the moment she was presented to me, they watched her closely. I wonder if her small frame disgusts them or if her spirit intrigues them, as it does me. Regardless, I will train her to obey me. She will learn to pleasure me however I choose and accept me into her body whenever I see fit.

“The female?” Verig persists, trying to gauge my mood as well as my thoughts.

“She will learn our ways. I’m concerned what her people ask of us could start a war with the vints.”

“Good,” Verig says a bit too eagerly.

“This is not the time for a war, not with our numbers so low. Perhaps when my brother’s ship arrives.”

“You mean if it arrives. Four years, Atox. Even if his ship was not one of the ones that exploded and he escaped Orcos, he would have found his way here by now. You must accept that he might be dead like all the rest.”

I will not argue with him, especially when he’s likely right. And yet I will never give up hoping my brother finds us.

“Do not misunderstand me, Verig. If we end up in a war with the vints, then so be it, but I will not start one unless necessary. I prefer small skirmishes to give the new warriors the experience they need. But we are not ready for full-fledged war. Not yet. This is why the treaty with the humans serves us well on two fronts. We will learn more about the vints’ capabilities and obtain females.”

“The vints are as weak as the humans. We could easily defeat them, then the humans and take their females. This treaty is a waste of time.”

“I will reconsider once the female we’ve taken carries my youngling. There is no use taking other females before then. Training many females to our ways will take time and cause disruption.”

“Our warriors are restless,” Verig counters. “Let me take a group to scout the vints’ technology. To understand the full nature of their arsenal.”

His idea has merit. “Juruk, and only Juruk. If you take too many warriors and are spotted?—”

“I will not be spotted,” he interrupts, something I never let my warriors do. My second has more privileges than the rest of our people but disrespecting me is not among them.

I pull up on my reins, halting my gorja. My men behind me stop without being ordered. They are well trained, as are the beasts beneath them, and as my female will be in time.

“Go, Verig. Hunt for our dinner and do not return until you’ve caught a sumaz.” The beasts are rare, hard to find, and even harder to kill without a spear, which Verig does not have with him. But he is resourceful. He will find a way.

Verig grinds his lower tusks into his upper lip, betraying his frustration with me, not for the punishment. I will listen when I seek his advice and not before. There can be no doubt among my people who their grak is. As my second, Verig will become grak upon my death, but not before. Until then, no one will question my authority, especially not Verig.

My second in command slaps the flat side of a blade over his heart, a sign of respect, before he digs his heels into his gorja and speeds off, disappearing into the thick woods. Vek, I need to punch something. Verig’s still mourning the loss of his female and youngling. He vehemently opposes the idea of taking a non-orc female for his own, which I will expect of all my warriors in time. I suspect seeing my female and knowing this is his fate led to this insubordination.

Sending him to hunt for our dinner is a light punishment, making me look weak all over again, but I must tread lightly where my warriors are concerned since I cannot give them the one thing they need more than females… a true battle. A battle would give them the opportunity to unleash their frustration and anger in a way that suits us.

We should be expanding our territory, taking control of this world, but we aren’t ready. I have to act strategically, unlike my father, the grak whose impetuousness decimated Orcos.

The female… I inhale a deep breath, taking in her scent. Delightful. I should take her now, release the frustration building within me.

I slide from my gorja. As I drop the reins and move to the back of our group, I imagine what it will be like to mount the female, to sink into that soft flesh. Despite the short hair, she promises to be entertaining. I suspect she will not submit easily, and vek, that makes me even harder.