was.
“Hello, pretty lady.”
Crap. Nalah spun around, off-guard as she looked for the owner. The voice was more force of nature than mere instrument of communication, and as she located him, she took an instinctive protective step back while elemental flight-or-fight primed every cell.
He was part orc, features less misshapen than the full-blood version but no one would ever call him even average-looking, his body massive compared to a human’s, his darker-toned skin with the slight undertone of green.
“Are you lost?” he continued. There was no magic around him – not surprising, since orcs as a general rule had little magical talent – but his presence hit her as hard as Esh’s always had. He would give Esh a hell of a fight.
She cleared her throat, threw off some I’m not to be screwed with attitude. “No. I wanted to watch my man and get some air.”
“Maybe give them the fuck-off for telling you girls stay in the house?” Her face had to show the shock she was too late to cover up, and his laugh was deep and genuine, regardless of the coughing edge that made her think he didn’t do it too much. “I know a few women who would have shoved pointy objects up Beylor’s ass if they heard the rule about staying in the quarters, and you have that same look about you.”
She shrugged, taking a step closer. “Can’t say the thought didn’t cross my mind. Esh in this area?”
“You checking out your man’s competition? Sizing us up?”
“No need for me to. Esh will win.” She gazed around with what she hoped was an unconcerned air.
No Esh in sight, and when her gaze came back to him he was nodding in approval. “Good woman. Every man needs one like you. Keep treating your man right, and make sure you can say the same about him.”
“What’s your name?” She needed to ask Esh about him. Something about him wasn’t sitting right. He was a warrior, but he didn’t belong to the Cage. He didn’t give off that vibe. Which, if that was the case, why was he here?
“Rorth. And you’d better get back before the guards are out in more force. Hate to think of you in trouble.” With a smile that looked very wrong, given the number of sharp protruding teeth in his mouth, Rorth left.
As if his prediction had brought about the change, a large number of men appeared, most ignoring her but some stopping to give her a blatant once-over.
And that was that. Innate hunting was a bust for today. There would be other ways to find out the information she needed.
But even as she turned to face the apartments there was a tickle, a tease, a dim thrum to come look, something here, come find me grabbing at her…compelling her.
She walked past the edge of the training center, down a path a little more overgrown, a little less trampled than the others. The feeling tugged at her, twisted along pathways in her mind.
At the sighting of the figure in the distance, she stopped, even with the magic pulling on her. It was… wrong , like a saccharine sweet scent over rot, the disharmony inciting rebellion in her.
The fighter appeared to be an albino, bright and white and so large, a mountain of snow against an evergreen background. He was shirtless, the loose white pants darker than his skin. He had been shadowboxing, but within moments of her arrival he lifted his head, scented the air, before turning bloodshot eyes in her direction – not the true red of a vampire, but the unwavering stare unnerving all the same.
Further back, from behind him, evil magic… crawl of fetid flesh
slice of the blade into decayed muscle
deep, feral joy at the pain yet to be visited upon them, on all of them…
Nalah’s pulse jackrabbited in her neck, cold sweat a clammy reality at her hairline. The only time she’d experienced anything close to this feeling was those first moments exposed to Tenro. Tenro was savagery, war, bloodlust, mixed with the last moments of the damned.
This… This was…
Pure madness .
And a cold,
“Hello, pretty lady.”
Crap. Nalah spun around, off-guard as she looked for the owner. The voice was more force of nature than mere instrument of communication, and as she located him, she took an instinctive protective step back while elemental flight-or-fight primed every cell.
He was part orc, features less misshapen than the full-blood version but no one would ever call him even average-looking, his body massive compared to a human’s, his darker-toned skin with the slight undertone of green.
“Are you lost?” he continued. There was no magic around him – not surprising, since orcs as a general rule had little magical talent – but his presence hit her as hard as Esh’s always had. He would give Esh a hell of a fight.
She cleared her throat, threw off some I’m not to be screwed with attitude. “No. I wanted to watch my man and get some air.”
“Maybe give them the fuck-off for telling you girls stay in the house?” Her face had to show the shock she was too late to cover up, and his laugh was deep and genuine, regardless of the coughing edge that made her think he didn’t do it too much. “I know a few women who would have shoved pointy objects up Beylor’s ass if they heard the rule about staying in the quarters, and you have that same look about you.”
She shrugged, taking a step closer. “Can’t say the thought didn’t cross my mind. Esh in this area?”
“You checking out your man’s competition? Sizing us up?”
“No need for me to. Esh will win.” She gazed around with what she hoped was an unconcerned air.
No Esh in sight, and when her gaze came back to him he was nodding in approval. “Good woman. Every man needs one like you. Keep treating your man right, and make sure you can say the same about him.”
“What’s your name?” She needed to ask Esh about him. Something about him wasn’t sitting right. He was a warrior, but he didn’t belong to the Cage. He didn’t give off that vibe. Which, if that was the case, why was he here?
“Rorth. And you’d better get back before the guards are out in more force. Hate to think of you in trouble.” With a smile that looked very wrong, given the number of sharp protruding teeth in his mouth, Rorth left.
As if his prediction had brought about the change, a large number of men appeared, most ignoring her but some stopping to give her a blatant once-over.
And that was that. Innate hunting was a bust for today. There would be other ways to find out the information she needed.
But even as she turned to face the apartments there was a tickle, a tease, a dim thrum to come look, something here, come find me grabbing at her…compelling her.
She walked past the edge of the training center, down a path a little more overgrown, a little less trampled than the others. The feeling tugged at her, twisted along pathways in her mind.
At the sighting of the figure in the distance, she stopped, even with the magic pulling on her. It was… wrong , like a saccharine sweet scent over rot, the disharmony inciting rebellion in her.
The fighter appeared to be an albino, bright and white and so large, a mountain of snow against an evergreen background. He was shirtless, the loose white pants darker than his skin. He had been shadowboxing, but within moments of her arrival he lifted his head, scented the air, before turning bloodshot eyes in her direction – not the true red of a vampire, but the unwavering stare unnerving all the same.
Further back, from behind him, evil magic… crawl of fetid flesh
slice of the blade into decayed muscle
deep, feral joy at the pain yet to be visited upon them, on all of them…
Nalah’s pulse jackrabbited in her neck, cold sweat a clammy reality at her hairline. The only time she’d experienced anything close to this feeling was those first moments exposed to Tenro. Tenro was savagery, war, bloodlust, mixed with the last moments of the damned.
This… This was…
Pure madness .
And a cold,
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