Page 11 of Orc's Pride
She’s sosmall. It’s a shock to see her eyes, so vibrant and seething with life and rage. They look like they should belong to a creature much less fragile. I’ve seen wolves with a less vicious stare.
Gor holds her at a greater distance, but she seems done with kicking for now, content to glare in my direction.
“She’s a spy,” he spits. “I found her in the middle of the forest, trying to escape. There’s no way she survived on her own—she must have been in league with the dark elves.”
Her eyes snap to Gor, burning with fury. “I don’t work forelves.”
The contempt in her voice is convincing, even if the evidence is not. She wouldn’t be the only human working with the elves—how many humans had we seen at their sides as they scurried about in the forest like the cowards they were? And how many times have I seen humans dressed in rags, begging for help…only to turn around and betray us to their dark masters?
Humans and elves might not be equally powerful, but they’re equally devious.
They’ve had to be, I suppose. Orcs are able to survive on brute strength, and because of that, are more honest. Blunt. Dark elves and some humans, of course, think that makes our kind dullards. If that’s what this human believes, then she’s in for a rough awakening.
“Don’t lie to me,” I demand. “Who were you working for?”
She doesn’t answer, and I can feel my jaw clench.
“These elves, or others?”
“I already told you. I would never betray my people like that.”
“And who exactly are your people?” I look around the woods. “I don’t see anyone here but you andmypeople. There are no known human settlements nearby. Even if you came alone, the elves would have picked you up. There’s no shame in survival. Just tell me the truth.”
“The truth is that I would rather die than so much as look at a dark elf.” It sounds like she means it, which must be a useful trait in a spy. “I hate them, possibly more than you do.”
I very much doubt that.
She’s stubborn, I’ll give her that. Interrogating her will be a war of wills, but one that I have no doubt I’ll win. I try another track with her.
“What is your name, girl?”
There are soldiers standing beside me who would flinch if I used this tone on them, and she has the gall to scowl at me, as though she’s sitting on a throne instead of being dangled by an orc who could snap her in two. “Dana.”
“Dana.” I take a step forward until we are nose to nose. “What the fuck are you doing in the forest, Dana?”
She juts her chin at me. “Nothing.”
“Stop lying. Who are you spying for?”
I watch her eyes carefully. They’re pretty. Large, wide, teal eyes that lie as convincingly as her sweet, plump mouth. They’re a cloth tied across her throat, like a little bow, like she’s some sort of present.
“Gor,” I say, absently. “Put her down.”
He protests. “She’ll run!”
“She’ll go nowhere.” I lock eyes with her as he dumps her to the ground. She falls on her ass, and before she can scamper away I put my hand against her shoulder. “Kneel for me, Dana.”
She kneels.
She glares, but she kneels. Lithe like a cat, she folds her legs beneath her knees, and crosses her hands behind her back. Her hair swings as she moves, gently brushing against her covered shoulders.
A sharp, vicious thrill skates down my spine, but I push it away. All I want from her are answers.
“Dana.” My thumb traces her high cheekbone in a mockery of a caress. “Today is not the day to test my patience. I have little enough of it as it is. Tell me why you are here, and what you were doing, and tell me the truth.”
She looks up at me through her long lashes.
And fucking lies.