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10. Cassia

10

CASSIA

I nstead of the usual nightmare, where things start from the beginning, I find myself right where I left off.

Gorthak stands before me, the dust from the chaos he caused still lingering in the air. He's massive, scarred, and bloodied, but the blood isn't his. His dreads are pulled back, revealing his sharp features.

Damn, he's sexy.

"Cassia," Gorthak's deep, gravelly voice sends shivers down my spine as he says my name. "You said my name."

I can't believe he knows who I am. My mind races, trying to figure out how that's possible. I've never seen him in real life, yet there's something about him that feels familiar.

My heart pounds in my chest as I stare at him, my voice barely above a whisper. "You know my name?"

He doesn't answer right away, his eyes never leaving mine. It's as if he's trying to see into my very soul. Finally, he speaks, his voice low and intense. "You know mine."

The way he says it, with such certainty, makes me question everything. I do know his name. But how? Then again, how does he know mine? His gaze on me is fierce, like he's never seen a woman before. It's unnerving, but also exhilarating.

I can't help but feel drawn to him, even though I know I should be afraid. There's a hunger in his eyes, but it's not the kind that comes from needing to eat. It's the kind that comes from wanting to possess, to consume. And for some reason, I find myself wanting to be devoured by him.

He places his meaty orc hands on the bars of my cage, and with a grunt, he easily bends them apart. I watch in awe as his muscles ripple under his skin. So strong, so powerful. I want to bite them.

When he scoops me up into his arms, I feel safe for the first time in what feels like forever. His touch is gentle, despite his size. I rest my head against his shoulder, breathing in his musky scent and relaxing into him.

He turns to leave, but we're suddenly faced with a group of elves. They're not the ones I'm used to seeing, with their cold, calculating gazes and blades of fire. Gorthak sets me down and pushes me behind him, shielding me with his body. The muscles in his back tense as he growls at the elves, his voice low and menacing. "It would be wise for you to put down your blades."

But the elves ignore Gorthak's warning, advancing towards us with a sinister glint in their eyes. The flames of their blades flicker menacingly in the dim light of the basement, casting eerie shadows on the walls.

Gorthak draws his massive battle-axe, gripping it in his equally massive hands. He charges towards the elves with a roar that shakes the very foundations of the manor. I watch in awe as he swings with deadly precision, slicing through the first elf's blade and cleaving him in two. The other elves hesitate for a moment, but then they attack with renewed ferocity. Gorthak fights them off with ease, his battle-axe a blur of motion as he cuts down one elf after another.

I can't help but admire his strength and skill, the way he moves with such grace and power. It's like watching a dance, a deadly dance of death. And despite the danger, I feel safe with him, protected by his massive frame and his unwavering determination.

The other elves are quick to react, but Gorthak is faster. He ducks and weaves, dodging their blades with ease. He grabs one elf by the throat and lifts him off the ground, his eyes blazing with fury. With a swift motion, he snaps the elf's neck and tosses his lifeless body aside.

Another elf charges towards Gorthak, his blade of fire slicing through the air with a hiss. Gorthak sidesteps the attack and brings his axe down on the elf's arm, severing it cleanly at the elbow. The elf screams in agony as his blade falls to the ground, extinguishing with a sizzle.

Gorthak doesn't give him a chance to recover. He brings his axe down again, this time cleaving the elf's head from his shoulders. Blood spurts from the stump, spattering the walls and floor with a sickening splatter.

I watch in horror as the remaining elves fall one by one, their bodies dismembered and lifeless. Gorthak is a whirlwind of destruction, his axe slicing through flesh and bone with ease.

As the final elf drops to the ground, Gorthak swivels towards me, his chest rising and falling heavily. His eyes are wild, yet there's a gentleness in them that I hadn't noticed before. He approaches me with slow, deliberate steps.

"Are you hurt?" he asks, his voice barely more than a whisper.

I shake my head, speechless. I'm in shock, reeling from the brutality. But at the same time, a strange sense of relief washes over me. Gorthak has saved me from an unimaginable fate, and I know that I'll never be able to repay him.

Gorthak searches my eyes, concern etched into his features. "Did I scare you?"

I shake my head, still in awe of the display of power and violence I just witnessed.

He looks surprised by my answer, but relief floods his face. "Good."

I can't help but feel drawn to him, to his strength and dominance. It's disturbing, but I find myself attracted to his brutal dominance. I don't tell him this, of course. I simply gaze up at him, my heart racing.

Gorthak secures his axe on his back and extends his hand toward me. His stance, his expression, the way he steps toward me… every move oozes sex. As if I have any knowledge of that. But when I look at him… I feel like I do.

His hand lingers between us, palm up. "Let's get out of here."

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