Page 8 of ORC’d By the Emperor

“Save questions for when Brides get to next stop.” Grak scans the line of frightened women with a withering glare. “Mayhap Chief of East Swamplands Horde will have more patience for this endeavor than Grak.”

All the raised hands drop, along with my stomach.

There will be more Orc Swamplands after this?

I barely have time to process before a sound like a war horn crossed with an electric guitar blasts through the hall.

“Heads down! Emperor approaches! Remember Rules or else.”

No more questions from me. Lesson learned. Thoroughly. I drop my head along with all the other human women in the row.

A hush falls over the hall.

Then…

CLOMP… CLOMP… CLOMP…

Heavy boots cross the stone floor toward the end of the line.

CLOMP…

He’s inspecting us one by one.…

CLOMP…

Getting closer and closer to where I’m kneeling in the middle of the line.

Panic rises in my chest.

CLOMP…

But then Vance’s voice crawls out of my memory.

“You let yourself go. Did you really expect me not to cheat—with somebody I could actually stomach?”

CLOMP…

For once, Vance being an undermining asshole comes in handy. I let out a little breath of relief. Why am I even panicking?

CLOMP…

No way the Orc Emperor will want me.

There are dozens of women in this line who are way prettier, women who have things like gym memberships and the ability to look at a tin of Trader Joe’s Peppermint Bark without inhaling the whole thing.…

My thoughts trail off when I realize the boot steps have stopped.

Right. In. Front. Of. Me!

Panic threatens again, but then I realize who’s bowed over right next to me.

Aimee—probably the prettiest woman in the Registry auction and dressed like a Middle Realm dream.

I go from panic for myself to dread for my new friend. Oh, god, poor Aimee!

My mind scrambles, trying to figure out how to save her from this horrible fate.

But then thick fingers wrap around my chin, and my face is tipped up.