24. Varkul
Varkul
It has been days since I last saw my mate.
Long, terrible, silent days. I miss the jungle and all its life. I miss the chirping, the rustling, the squawking.
In here? In my sterile cell? There’s only the hum of the overhead lights and the soft hiss of the air systems.
More than the sounds of the jungle, I miss my mate . I miss her laughs, her sighs, her moans. Without her, I am broken.
Evelyn ran away with tears streaming down her face, leaving me utterly confused. I was so distraught, I barely reacted when the soldiers charged into the med-bay and shot me with their blasted sedatives.
I woke up back in my cell, with heavy chains around my wrists and ankles. The humans think they’ve tamed me. That sedatives and steel can hold back a warlord.
They are fools .
I close my eyes and think of Evelyn. I picture the way her hands felt on my skin. The way her voice trembled when she said she was mine. The way her body took mine so perfectly .
She is my everything.
I will burn this place to the ground for her.
Then — a sound.
Distant. Muffled.
My eyes snap open.
There it is again.
Louder.
A dull thud. Followed by another.
Then a crack , like metal being torn.
Shouting. Boots pounding in the hall.
I rise to my feet, the chains clinking, my heart pounding harder than it has since the day I was captured. Because I know those sounds. I know that chaos, that rhythm, that fury .
My orcs have come for me!
Another explosion, this one closer.
Dust rains down from the ceiling. The overhead lights flicker. A grin spreads across my face.
“Blackfang,” I growl.
The ground rumbles beneath my feet like a beast stirring in its sleep. And then I hear it, loud and clear:
A war horn.
Low and long, the sound pierces the walls, vibrating in my bones. My blood sings with it.
They’re here.
My warriors. My brothers. My clan .
They found me. And they’re tearing this place apart looking for me, brick by brick.
The guards outside my cell shout something into their comms, then suddenly sprint away.
The heavy iron door shudders.
Once.
Twice.
Then it’s blown inward, slammed off its hinges.
Garomshir steps into the cell. His axe is red with fresh blood, his chest heaving. He sees me and grins.
“Found you, warlord.”
“About time. These chains are starting to irritate me.”
“Allow me.”
Garomshir lifts his heavy axe. With a single swing he shatters the chains around my wrists. Another breaks the ones around my ankles.
The moment I’m free, I surge to my full height.
“Evelyn,” I growl. “A human female — we must find her. Now .”
Garomshir looks confused. “We’re burning this place to the ground, Warlord.”
Worry squeezes the air from my lungs. My orcs do not even know what a human female looks like. In the throes of battle, anything can happen.
Hold on, Evelyn. I’m coming.