Chapter Five
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Jasmine
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I have no idea where I'm running. Actually, I do. I'm running away. Far, far away from the orcs, who I'm still not sure are real.
Oh no, my white leather designer boots were not made for mad dashes through the wild, trying to escape my thoughts—or the orcs, depending on my reality.
I stumble over the ground like I'm drunk, tripping over rocks and fallen branches, my only light a bright white moon slowly being engulfed by darkness.
Shit. I run faster. If I can get onto the road, I can flag a car down. That's all I need to do. Although I'm not sure if I'm going in the right direction. Panic makes me wail. Why is this happening to me?
The worst part of my evening is that it's not a dream. Oh no, this is happening right here and now. The best part is that the three green, seven-foot, ripped-to-the-heavens beings in my house haven't caught me yet.
Oh, sorry, they took offense when I called them aliens. They're orcs—O. R. C. S., which stands for Other Really Curious Specimens. It fits.
I risk turning around to see if they're following and sigh in relief. They don't even know I've left. They think I'm still changing into something more suitable for being kidnapped.
Good. Please let there be a road in my immediate future.
Curiously, I remember what they told me. What a tale. I'd be as big a nut job as them if I believed it. But seriously, am I going to die if they don't take me back and make me fat with their seed?
Also, excuse me. Do they have any idea how many donuts I deprive myself of just to fit into my damn jeans? But that's beside the point. If their shoe size matches their anatomy, their cocks are not going to fit in my mouth. What am I saying? I'm not putting their cocks in my mouth.
"Focus, Jasmine," I whisper. Focus on running. I do...until, out of nowhere, I'm scooped into the air and tossed over one side of a massive shoulder, moving at full speed.
No.
This can't be happening to me. And isn't it a little much? It's bad enough I'm hiding from some mafia king whose hit list I'm on for no reason whatsoever, but now I'm being kidnapped by orcs?
Banging my fists against Marquis' back—the brute who swiped me off my feet—trying to sink my teeth into his flesh and screaming my lungs out doesn't help one bit.
I'm dizzy from the speed at which he's running. I'm sure I'm actually flying through the air.
They take turns carrying me, passing me from one shoulder to the next when the terrain changes, as if I weigh nothing. It feels even less when they toss me—practically toss me—into the air across deep ravines in the mountains, confident the other will catch me.
Are they just insane or fucking insane? I could have died ten times in the last ten minutes. I don't even know where I am anymore.
They whiz through the forest surrounding the house, up the mountain as lithely as leopards, and down the other side.
I catch a glimpse of the moon. Less than half of it is visible now. And then everything changes. It feels as if we move through a sheet of rain without getting wet. I struggle to breathe for a moment before I regulate myself. Was that a portal?
Nothing here looks familiar. They suddenly slow their pace to a walk, talking animatedly to each other in their language, now seemingly happy.
We passed through a portal into another dimension. The drop in temperature is so stark that my teeth start to chatter.
While I'm still tossed over Alexander's shoulder this time, a thick, heavy fur coat is draped over me, and instant heat radiates into my pores.
The ground is no longer the familiar earthy kind. It's black, but the texture is carpet-like—thick yet mushy—while the air is crisp enough to choke me.
They set me down on my feet, and I wobble a little. I'm no longer in the civilized part of the universe.
Barren land stretches before me until my eyes can't see any further. There are a few round structures made of straw scattered here and there, but not another soul in sight—human or orc. It's so damn cold I'm going to freeze into a popsicle. There's no snow or wind. It's just the air itself.
"This is Kraukug," Marquis says, a hint of pride in his voice.
And I'm sure it's lovely, but... I turn around and immediately sprint away. I have no idea where I'm going, yet again.
I wish I had paid more attention to the route they'd taken, but I was fighting for my life. I'll figure it out. I just need to get away from them.
I don't get anywhere significant. It's Tristian who grabs me around the waist, just a breath away from falling off a cliff that appeared out of nowhere. Everything is out to kill me.
"Put me down, you big green imbecile, and take me back home immediately."
But then fire springs from my butt cheeks. Tristian laid his massive palm on my backside and smacked me. My outrage is incandescent. I'm going to kill him first.
Marquis laughs in the background as I grab a chunk of Tristian's hair and pull so hard that, had he been human, he'd have had a bald spot right there. He doesn't even flinch.
He carries me into a much bigger circular structure. The inside is furnished with wooden ensembles—sparse, practical, and very clearly a male abode.
A table with four chairs. The kitchen has shelves instead of cupboards. I can't see the bedrooms; they are further inside the house.
Not relenting for a second, I renew my fight to be set free. I can't be here. They're going to breed me until I'm brimming with their seed. No.
But a deeper visceral sensation rushes through me at my impending fate. Despite the bitter cold and having lost the coat during my last attempt to flee, a flood of heat fills my veins. My nipples throb inside my bra. Dear god. What is wrong with me?
Tristian sets me on my feet just as a dark cloud leaves only a sliver of moonlight behind. Is this their midnight approaching?
No. No. No. No.
I don't need to speculate any longer. My hand flies to my breast. Did the hand move? Is that what I felt?
Frantic, I strip off my top until my breasts hang free. There it is. The hand moved. Two, maybe three breaths away from midnight.
Am I going to die, for real? I look up in terror and instead find the gazes of three orcs burning into my flesh as if they were touching me.
Their eyes glide over my naked breasts. My nipples grow harder. I hear their growls at the same moment they charge toward me.
I'm helpless against them, and the thought leaks fresh wetness into my panties.
Before my next breath, I'm divested of the rest of my clothes—boots and all—while hungry mouths fight for a taste of my nipples.