26. Sloane

Chapter 26

Sloane

I still have the multi-tool in my hand, but I'm afraid to move because I don't want to do anything to provoke the furious Gorlag. I can practically see the gears turning in his thick, green skull as he processes his king's command. The look on his face tells me all I need to know about his thoughts on kneeling to a human. To me .

But inaction isn't really my thing.

In a split-second decision, I jump back to my feet, point my stun gun at the orc to Gorlag's left, and pull the trigger. Gorlag's eyes widen in surprise at the orc's startled gurgle of pain as he falls to the ground, immobile.

"Stand down," Dexari growls, but I'm not sure if he's talking to me or Gorlag.

I ignore him, my eyes locked with Gorlag's. "He's only stunned, at least for now. And you're next if you don't do as Dexari says."

Gorlag's jaw clenches, his hand still gripping his sword. But instead of kneeling or attacking, he does something unexpected.

He speaks to me directly.

"If you truly saved the king from fanghounds like he said, why did you then threaten his life?" His voice is gruff, suspicious.

I feel like I'm being tested, like my answer could tip the scales one way or another. "I was bluffing. It was the only thing I could think of to get you and the other guards to leave."

Gorlag searches my face for any sign of deception. He points to my tiny stun gun. "Where did you get that weapon?"

I blink, momentarily thrown by the question. I recover quickly, sensing an opportunity. "Zephyr gave it to me. Like my unexpected bond with your king, the dragalor and I share a special connection. And like Dexari, Zephyr is my protector now."

The backhanded threat is an off-the-cuff addition but, right on cue, Zephyr emerges from the trees and circles overhead. Gorlag glances at the sky, and I bite back a grin as he considers what it means to have a dragalor on my side.

The orc I stunned recovers and gets to his feet. I look at him sheepishly. "Sorry about stunning you. I needed to make a point, and you were my easiest target."

He nods in my direction and winks. "I am Rukmar, mistress. Thank you for allowing me to assist you."

That makes me laugh, and then all the guards—except Gorlag—laugh with me. But the look in his eyes softens just a bit, and with a grunt that could be either acceptance or resignation, he slowly sheathes his sword.

My heart leaps into my throat as he sinks to one knee, his head bowed. Like dominoes, the other guards follow suit, taking a knee one by one. These fierce warriors kneeling to me is both awesome and terrifying.

Relief floods through me, but it's short-lived. I steal a quick glance at Dexari, expecting to see triumph on his face. Instead, my blood runs cold. Fresh crimson is seeping through the wound sealant I used on him. His face is ashen, and he's unconscious again.

Shit.

I stand tall, channeling every ounce of faux royal haughtiness I can muster. "On your feet," I command, surprised by the authority in my own voice. "Your king needs the healer's attention. We need to get him back to the palace immediately."

To my dismay, they obey without hesitation. Gorlag barks orders, and within moments, they've carefully loaded Dexari onto the travois. Before I can even catch my breath, we're moving through the forest at a brisk pace.

I have to practically jog to keep up with their long strides. It's only when I hear footsteps behind me that I realize two guards have fallen into step at my back. My first instinct is to tense up, to prepare for an attack. Then I realize they fell back to protect me.

Dman. I could get used to this future queen stuff.

That's when it hits me: I've accepted my fate. Sometime between Dexari's explanation of cockspikes and issuing my first order to his guards, I've embraced my future as Dexari's mate and future queen. The thought should terrify me. Instead, a small smile tugs at my lips.

Being an orc king's bride isn't exactly what I had in mind when dreaming about escaping from slavery. But it sure is a major upgrade. And the more I think about it, the more I find the idea of having power, respect, and a say in my own destiny appealing.

My newfound enthusiasm for my role is quickly tempered when my eyes land on Dexari's pale face. He doesn't look good, and worry clamps around my heart.

C'mon, pretty boy. You can't die on me now. Not when things are just getting interesting.

I push my legs harder, determined to keep up with the guards' relentless pace. We need to get Dexari to the healer, and fast. Because if I'm going to be an orc queen, I damn well need a king by my side.