As Tarbert lowered his arms and began to turn about, I struck.
I whipped my arms up, throwing them over his head, using the chain to yank him backward against my chest. Before he could yell, I’d wrapped the chain around his neck and gripped him from behind by the lower jaw, my palm covering his mouth, my claws digging into his cheeks, his body utterly in my control.
Lillian stumbled toward me, her lips parted in concern, her arms out. I didn’t know her intention, but she would not reach me in time, and neither would the guards.
MyKteerhowled in victory as I leaned my mouth close to Tarbert’s ear.
In the sudden silence, I growled, “I am not weak.”
CHAPTER SIX
Lillian
Oh my God.
Oh my God.
Time seemed to have slowed. Why was I the only one who had guessed Kragorn’s intentions? Why was I the only one who thought Father’s posturing with his back to his enemy was stupid? Why was I the only one moving toward them when Kragorn tried to kill Father?
My lamed foot would never allow me to help in time.
Which one are you going to help?
I ignored the traitorous whisper and continued to limp determinedly towardthem.
Except…
Except Kragornwasn’ttrying to kill Father. He was holding him, completely in control. Even at a distance I heard his growl.
“I am not weak.”
It would have been so easy for him to snap my father’s neck then, and as much as it pained me to consider it, I could imagine him feeling justified after the months of deprivation and horror.
But he didn’t.
Instead, Kragorn glanced at me, a muscle in his jaw working, but he didn’t try to stop me from approaching. AlthoughwhatI thought I could do against such a warrior, I wasn’t sure. I just knew he needed me. Nay, myfatherneeded me. Nay, I…
Clearly, I wasn’t sure what I was doing.
But ‘twas as if my determination sparked something, for the noise rose as the guards swarmed forward.
Kragorn stepped back, pulling Father with him.
“Call them off,” he commanded.
I saw my father’s eyes, burning with hatred, as he held up his hands, palms out. Obediently, the guards slid to a stop, fingering their weapons and shifting their feet, clearly just waiting for an opportunity to strike.
“Nay,” I whispered. A few of them glanced at me, and I raised my voice so they could hear.
“Nay,” I repeated. “Do you not see? He could kill my father so easily, a twist.” I didn’t have to fake my shudder of fear, even as I appealed to them. “Do not give him a reason!”
I could see the moment the guards understood my logic. They lowered their weapons, muttering among themselves. My father growled something, but since his mouth was covered by Kragorn’s hand, none of us understood. The pair of them continued to back toward the entrance, Kragorn’s dark eyes watchingeverything.
To my surprise, I saw the other orc in the room—Father had called himBattleborn—slowly rise to his feet. Was he Kragorn’s enemy? Father had intended togiftKragorn to him, as if he were a tool or a weapon…or a prisoner of war. I shuddered again, knowing this orc, this mighty warrior with his battleax and knives, was healthy and hearty and could easily defeat every male in this room…including Kragorn, if it came to that. Kragorn was still so weak, still recovering from his wounds…
And why did I care? I shouldwanthim defeated, shouldn’t I?
I wasn’t the only one watching warily as Battleborn stepped out of the shadows, his hand on the hilt of his mighty battleax. Would he leap to Father’s defense? Father had invited him here as an ally. Had that alliance already been made?
