Page 70 of The Savage Vow
Or she would die trying. Neither of them said the words aloud. Makhel turned her beast toward the eastern road without another word and kicked her shukan into a hard gallop. She vanished swiftly into the deepening night. Nargol watched until she disappeared completely.
Nargol swung into Torch’s saddle and urged him forward.
In the opposite direction.
Toward the forest.
Toward the hunt.
Torch surged ahead eagerly as if he, too, understood the urgency burning in her veins. The forest loomed ahead with a wall of shadow and ancient trees. The canopy swallowed moonlight, and the air cooled sharply when they crossed the threshold into the wilderness.
Here the land would speak to her.
And she would listen.
She slowed Torch once they were deep within the trees and away from the village. She guided him along narrow paths instead of the main trails. Night creatures stirred. The scent of damp earth and moss filled her lungs.
This was familiar. It was almost comforting yet primal. Being one with the land was not new to her. It was instinct. Part of her training.
She rode deeper still until the village’s sound was nothing but a distant memory. Only then did she dismount and lead Torch into a concealed hollow between thick-rooted trees and a jutting rock face.
Perfect. They were hidden, and this place was defensible. She removed the saddle and allowed him to graze quietly. She crouched near the ground, her fingers brushing the soil. A slow, predatory smile stretched her lips.
She was now in her element.
“They will not be easy to find,” she murmured.
Torch snorted softly. She rose and rolled her shoulders. Tension was coiled tight inside her chest. It wasn’t weakening her but making her stronger.
If they thought they could take her mate and disappear into the shadows…they were fools.
Her hand drifted down to the hilt of her weapon on her waist.
“I’m coming, Orlena,” she whispered.
The trees stood silent witness to her oath.
And somewhere out there, beyond the trees, enemies breathed their last peaceful breaths, unaware that a furious orc warrior had vanished into the wild.
Unaware that she was coming for them.
And when Makhel returned with an army, there would be war.
But before the armies marched.
Before her father arrived, before the world knew what was coming…
Nargol would find her mate.
And there would be nothing, no orc, no troll, no troll warlord, and no force in Aghon itself who would stand in her way.
The mountains roselike serrated teeth against the night sky. Orlena barely remembered the journey there.
The world had blurred into jolting movements, rough hands, and the relentless rhythm of hooves on stone, gravel, and now earth. Her wrists burned from the rope binding them. Every time Yambul shifted her, the coarse fibers scraped her skin raw.
By the time they reached the mountain pass, darkness had overtaken the sky.
Soon they were traveling by foot. She stumbled as they forced her onward. Her feet slipped on loose gravel, the terrain growing steeper. The path narrowed into something barely wide enough for two bodies. Overgrown brush and trees clung to the slopes of the hills, their dark silhouettes swaying in the wind.
