Page 94 of The Savage Vow
Her world was about to end.
Pain returnedbefore her other senses. It pulsed at the back of Nargol’s skull. It was dull, heavy, and felt as if a hammer was striking stone in a slow rhythm. A metallic, salty taste filled her mouth. Dust clung to her tongue. A groan escaped her.
A scream.
Orlena.
Nargol’s eyes snapped open. Warrior instinct surged through her body before she could think. She rolled to her side and forced breath into her lungs. Her muscles were drawn tight as if she had merely risen from sleep instead of unconsciousness.
She blinked and took in the open sky where the twin suns blazed. The scent of wood shavings and fresh-cut timber filled her nostrils. She pushed up to her knees. Warriors immediately surrounded her. Four of them, broad, armed and waiting for her to make a move.
Nargol immediately recognized where she was. The courtyard. Memories of the guards entering her cell, the fight, and then pain exploding in her head that had led to darkness. She shook off the memory, but then her gaze landed on what was in the center of the courtyard.
The gallows.
Two upright beams. Crossbars. Twin nooses swaying gently in the breeze. Her gaze darted sideways.
Orlena was being held by two warriors, arms gripped tight in their meaty hands. Tears streaked her brown skin. Rage ignited so violently inside Nargol that it burned away the fog of pain that had plagued her.
A low, deep growl rolled from her chest. The warriors by her rested their hands on their weapons.
On the raised platform of the gallows stood Grat. He had positioned himself where all could see him. His boots were planted wide, his chin lifted, and he threw his arms outward.
“My people!” he called out. His voice boomed across the courtyard. “Today marks a new era for Soza. An era of strength. An era of survival!”
Villagers had gathered along the perimeter. Some stood rigid and silent. Worry filled some faces, but others looked on with hungry anticipation.
“Rujin will come,” Grat continued. “And when he does, those who bow will be spared. Those who resist will serve as an example.” His gaze dropped to Nargol.
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
Nargol took in everything in a single sweep. The number of guards. Their positioning. The distance to the outer gates. The weapons they had on their belts to even the arches above on the stone wall.
Her wrists were still shackled behind her back. The iron bit into her wrists, but she ignored the slight pain in them and in the balls of her shoulders from her arms being in this fecking position for so long.
Orlena cried out as one of her captors jerked her forward. Nargol growled again, this time deeper. Grat turned toward her with a smug smile.
“Bring them up.”
The warriors hauled her to her feet. The world swayed for half a heartbeat, but she steadied. She would not stumble. If she were going to her death, she would walk on her own two feet. She was a strong Cydassi warrior, and that’s how she would want everyone to remember her.
They dragged her to the wooden steps of the gallows. Orlena fought, but they forced her forward.
“Nargol!” she cried out. She tried to look behind her, but the orcs were in the way.
“I am here!” Nargol called back. Her voice was steady despite the storm raging inside her.
They shoved her up the steps. The platform creaked under their combined weight. The nooses swung closer. The guards kept her surrounded, moving along the platform.
She was positioned underneath one noose, and Orlena was placed under the other. They were close enough where she couldsee the tremor in her mate’s hands. Close enough to see the fierce love in her eyes.
“I love you,” Orlena said. Her voice shook, but her words were clear. Those big brown eyes of hers were locked on Nargol.
The strength her mate exuded took Nargol’s breath away.
“Here and in the next life. May you feast proudly with Nogora in the Halls of Ironfang.”
The words pierced her.
