Chapter 23
CHAPTER 23
L othar did his best to remain calm as he resumed his search. He stalked through the kitchens, his nostrils flaring at the mix of aromas - fresh bread, herbs, roasted meat - but no trace of Jana’s sweet scent. The kitchen staff scattered at his approach, but he barely noticed them.
The library stood empty and silent, her lingering presence from yesterday’s research already fading. His claws scraped against the spines of the books as he prowled between the shelves. He’d already checked the common areas, and he strode rapidly towards the passageway through which they’d entered, using his Beast’s enhanced sense to check for any signs of her scent. There was only a faint lingering scent, undoubtedly from their arrival the previous day.
Fuck. If she’d been taken as he suspected, she hadn’t left via this entrance.
The guards on duty gave him a suspicious look as he checked the passageway a second time.
“Are you searching for something?” one of them demanded.
He fought back the impulse to sink his claws into the stupid male’s throat.
“Are there any other entrances?”
His voice was little more than a growl and he saw them exchange nervous glances, their hands dropping to the hilts of their swords.
“No,” the younger male said, his voice exaggeratedly calm. “That is why we guard this one.”
He forced himself to think past the increasing panic.
“What about deliveries? Supplies?”
The younger male sighed.
“They all come through here. We are sworn to protect the Brides.”
The older male nodded his agreement, then rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
“The outer wall is lowest in the rear gardens. Perhaps some of it has decayed over time?”
The younger male started to argue but he didn’t bother to listen. The suggestion was a ray of hope, no matter how tiny.
The gardens. Of course - she loved plants and he could easily imagine her venturing out into the gardens. He raced through the inner gardens, scanning the neat rows of herbs and flowers. Nothing. But there, at the edge of his awareness - her scent drifted from the overgrown rear garden.
He followed the trail despite the myriad of scents from the riotous growth, pushing through tangles of vines and branches. Her scent grew stronger, mixed with the sharp tang of fear. His Beast roared to life, his muscles rippling as the transformation began. His vision sharpened as his predator’s instincts took over.
Another scent overlaid hers - male, aggressive, threatening. His mate had been afraid. His mate had been taken.
His Beast’s fury exploded through him, his body growing larger and more powerful as he threw back his head and roared, the sound echoing off the convent walls. His claws raked through the vines, revealing weathered stone beneath. His enhanced vision caught the outline of a doorway, cunningly hidden in the wall. Her scent grew stronger here, tinged with the acrid taste of her terror.
He tore the door open, leaving it hanging by a broken hinge as he raced into the forest. The scents were even clearer now - his mate’s terror, the male’s aggression, their path marked as clearly as footprints to his enhanced senses.
The last threads of his human consciousness dissolved under his Beast’s single-minded purpose. Find mate. Protect mate. Kill threats .
He launched himself forward, powerful muscles propelling him into the forest. The hunt had begun.
His enhanced senses caught every detail of her journey. She’d stumbled here - his claws dug into the earth at the thought of her fear. And here she tried to break free but the male had prevented her. The male’s scent wrapped around hers, heavy with aggression and dominance. Each sign of her struggle fed his rage.
The forest blurred past him as he ran, dodging trees and leaping fallen logs with inhuman grace. His Beast knew only one truth - his mate needed him. Nothing else mattered. Not the convent, not Jessamin’s illness, not even his own humanity.
Her scent grew stronger, fresher, and he knew was gaining on them. His muscles burned with effort but he pushed harder, faster. The Beast’s strength flooded through him, transforming him further with each stride. His bones cracked and reformed, his body growing larger, more powerful.
A branch whipped across his face, drawing blood, but he barely noticed. His mate’s fear-scent drove him forward, each breath of it stoking his fury.
The trail veered sharply left, heading deeper into the mountains, and his lips pulled back in a snarl. The male was trying to lose him in the rough terrain, but no force on earth could stop him from finding his mate.
He launched himself over a fallen tree, his claws leaving deep gouges in the bark. The Beast’s instincts merged with his own determination, creating a single-minded focus. Find mate. Protect mate. Destroy anyone who threatened her.
The forest thinned ahead, revealing a steep rocky slope. Fresh scents told him they’d passed this way mere minutes ago. He was close. So close.
He caught the sound of voices ahead - one female and frightened, one male and threatening. His mate’s distress called to him like a beacon. His Beast roared, the sound echoing through the trees, announcing his coming fury.
He burst through the underbrush into a small clearing, his enhanced vision taking in every detail. Jana pressed against a tree trunk. Another orc looming over her. The male’s head snapped around at his entrance, eyes widening in shock at the sight of his transformed state.
He didn’t hesitate, launching himself across the clearing with his claws extended. His only thought was to eliminate the threat to his mate. The other orc barely managed to dodge the initial attack, stumbling backwards as Lothar’s claws raked the air where his throat had been.
“You dare touch what’s mine?”
“You don’t deserve her,” the other male snarled, and the shock of that statement was enough to make him stumble.
He recovered almost immediately but not quickly enough to avoid a painful blow to his abdomen. His mate let out a terrified cry, her fear and distress fueling his rage.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The words came out in a savage growl, barely recognizable as human. The other orc laughed and his Beast’s fury surged.
“Lasseran is right. You are all just savages, undeserving of mates. Of a future.”
He charged at the other male again and the male ducked, rolling smoothly to his feet.
“Why would the Old Gods waste their gifts on such as you? They will not allow it. They will not let her be yours.”
The words echoed his own doubts, but his mate’s scent, her proximity, drowned out his fears. His mate needed him, and nothing would stop him from protecting her. The words didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except eliminating the threat to his mate.
“She is mine. Now and always,” he growled, and his Beast roared in agreement.
They grappled for control, the male’s superior height and reach no match for his Beast’s raw power. His claws sank into the other’s chest, drawing first blood, but the male showed no pain, his eyes turning black as his own Beast responded.
His world narrowed to a single point of focus - the male standing between him and his mate. The Curse roared through his system, demanding blood. He charged forward, muscles bunching as he launched himself at his opponent, but the other male responded with equal force, their bodies crashing together with bone-jarring impact as the sound of their collision echoed through the forest.
His Beast recognized an equal opponent - a warrior with skills to match his own - but that only made him more determined to emerge victorious. His mate’s scent, still tinged with fear, only added to his fury, and he slammed the male into a massive oak, feeling ribs crack under the impact.
The male recovered quickly, driving his knee up into his stomach. They separated for a moment, circling each other warily, both of them bleeding. Their growls filled the clearing, primitive and threatening. Neither male would yield.
The other male fought with the skill of a trained warrior, but his rage gave him strength beyond mere combat training. Each blow he landed felt more powerful than the last. He charged again and this time the other male stumbled backwards.
His world narrowed to a single point of focus - the male who dared touch his mate. His claws dug deeper into the other male’s flesh as he slammed him against a tree trunk again, his hands wrapping around his opponent’s throat.
“She’s mine,” he snarled, his voice barely recognizable. His grip tightened, feeling the pulse of life beneath his fingers. One quick twist would end this threat forever.
The male’s eyes blazed with defiance even as he struggled for breath. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, yet he refused to submit.
“Lothar! Don’t!”
Jana’s voice cut through the red haze of his rage, the need to respond to her voice stronger than even the Beast’s bloodlust. His head instinctively turned towards her, his body responding to her call.
That moment of distraction cost him. The other male’s claws raked across his throat, drawing blood. The sharp pain shocked him enough that his opponent managed to twist free of his grip.
Blood trickled down his neck but before he could finish what he’d started, his mate put her small hand on her arm and shook her head.
“Please don’t.”
She had positioned herself between them - a fact that made his Beast howl in protest - but even though rage still hummed through his veins, he couldn’t resist her plea.
“Why not?” he growled.