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“You are an idiot,” Raskyuil hissed. Fucking an unknown fae, male or female, was dangerous, even among their own kind. “Go home.” He gave the male a harsh look but tried to temper it. “I’m trying to help you, human. Believe it or not, I’m doing you a favor by telling you to leave… now.”
“Ah, let him stay, troll. It so happens that I want to fuck too,” a deep voice replied.
The human’s eyes widened and noticeably paled, his eyes fixing on something beyond Raskyuil’s scope of vision. He turned his head slowly, his eyes landing briefly on a human female slipping by with her children, her hands clamped firmly over the ears of a tiny female beside her with gold ringlet curls bouncing around her tiny shoulders. The child was oblivious, but the female stared and a few of the older children snickered as they followed after her at a slower pace, their gaze riveted on, fascinated by the orc who pushed his way forward, a lazy grin on his face.
The orc sauntered forward. About a head shorter than Raskyuil, the male was still large compared to human, his muscular body a network of scars that suggested a hard, brutal life. The orc gripped the large bulge of his cock suggestively through his pants, and laughter rose from the fae. “If the human is looking to play, I’m none too picky when it comes to a quick fuck,” he remarked with a dark laugh of his own.
“N-no,” the human stuttered through his fear, the leaves crunching as they slid under his feet with his rapid backward scramble.
Raskyuil’s head swung back to the human, and the male shook his head quickly, a look of fear in his wide eyes. Raskyuil cocked his head, his nostrils flaring as he dragged in the thickening scent of terror from the male.
“Ah, now you’re afraid. Strange when the harpy did not inspire such fear. At least with the orc, you wouldn’t risk being devoured alive once you were through… Though,” he added, giving the orc a thoughtful look, “orcsarequick to bind their conquests to them, if they are satisfied.”
The orc in question grinned menacingly. “You’re only half-correct, troll. The satisfaction isn’t from the fuck but from the mating bond. However, we never know who our mate may be until after we fuck,” he added with an amused grin shared among the other orc males who had joined him.
“I’m a man,” the human objected quickly, a wavering note in his voice of broken defiance as he took several more steps backward. As if that explained everything. “I don’t want to fuckhimor be the mate of some monster.”
His nose wrinkled with disgust, though he was the one who reeked of mess and filth and was wearing his own piss. The orcs’ laughter fell silent, and a deadly weight filled the air. Raskyuil bit back a groan. This was not heading in a healthy direction for the human. His own patience was nearing its end, and he was the one being paid to deal with this rabble.
“Humans,” the orc in question sneered and spat in the direction of the human, though he approved no closer. “I’m not surprised. Make no mistake: I do not want you, filthy human. I would rather pluck out my eyes and feed them to ravens than be saddled with you. Not because you are a man, or because you are human, but because everything about you is disgusting.”
The human warbled an ugly laugh, his inebriated state doing him no favors in reining in his mouth as he backed away. “I’m not the monster here. I’m not disgusting. I’m Jamie Duncan and my father is very important in this region, right, Brina?” He blinked blearily as if he just remembered something, and Raskyuil barely restrained another groan as the male looked around haplessly. “Sabrina? Fuuuuck. Where is she?” he bellowed as he wobbled forward a step but immediately came to a stop as his courage failed him. “Where is she?”
“Hopefully home and abed where she belongs,” Raskyuil observed with a grunt, but he glanced over at the dryad as the male crept closer to investigate. “Any humans left in there?”
Nathiel shook his head. “Not a one. Most of them had already left by the time this one was being dealt with. And the last few stragglers have already made it out.”
Raskyuil recalled the female with the large brood. They must have been among the stragglers. Not entirely surprising with so many younglings to herd. He hated that they had to witness all of this, however, and his chest tightened as a bitter taste filled his mouth. Like orcs, trolls valued offspring. His instinct demanded that he trail after the family and make sure that they were well, but it was absurd. Not only would he be unwelcome, but it would surely frighten them all rather than provide them with any comfort to see a large troll following them.
Besides which, he had no claim on them, nor did he want one. The female wasn’t his, and the offspring weren’t his—he had no right or reason to hover over them. They weren’t his to protect.
Unfortunately, he still had to protect this idiot and keep him from getting himself killed as the orc snarled menacingly. “Perhaps I shall go and find this female. She would likely be pleased to win a better male than one who would abandon her to drink ale and follow his prick elsewhere.”
“Beast!” Jamie spat, his voice rising to a shriek, entirely heedless now of his wellbeing. “Don’t you lay one nasty finger on my Sabrina! You can’t have her. She is mine! I won’t have her fouled and ruined by you.”
The orc gave a short, cruel laugh as he slowly stepped back a pace, his glittering eyes narrowed on the human. All playfulness with which the orc had joined in was now truly gone, his eyes glinting with a murderous gleam.
“Fouled and ruined, eh? And for what reason? For finding pleasure with the likes of me?” he sneered, revealing sharp incisors as he bared his tusks more fully in threat. “You say that when you would fuck a monster if it’s a monster you fancy, but our kind is only good enough to entertain you. Too monstrous to mate.” He lifted his head contemptuously. “Humans like you don’t deserve to mate and breed while many go without. A human would be lucky to be Barok’s mate. You, however, deserve to be a harpy’s feast. Give him over to the harpy, troll, and be done with it if he so longs for that fate.”
The male, Jamie, hastily backed away as a dark laughter ran rippled their audience as several females sidled forward. He scrabbled away, tripping over a tree root in his hasty retreat, sending him toppling to the ground and drawing further laughter from the fae. Not even bothering to get up, he scurried back in the dirt, his eyes widening with panic as terror finally, truly set in. “Take her then. Take her—just don’t eat me!” he squealed.
Raskyuil growled, his patience at an end. This was going nowhere, and he was more than ready for the entire day to be done with already.
“Enough!” he snarled as he glared down at the human, shooting a sharp glance to the females who merely grinned and halted in place a safe distance away from the male. “Get up,” he commanded.
When he failed to do so quick enough, Raskyuil stomped forward and easily caught the male skittish male yet again and set him on his feet. “Now go home,” he snapped. “Your female isn’t here, and you would do yourself a favor to leave while you still have your skin intact. Do you understand?”
The human’s head bobbled in a hasty nod, and Raskyuil sighed in relief as he stepped back, his tail twitching irritably. His thick arms crossing over his chest, he watched the male turn and flee, a disdainful snort leaving him. One that was echoed by the orc, Barok, as the male stopped at his side, a low growl vibrating from the male. He shook his head and gave Raskyuil an appraising look before grunting and slapping him firmly on the back as he turned to head back into the camp.
Nothing more was said. The fae melted away now that the spectacle was over, and Raskyuil resisted the compulsion to track down the female that had caught his attention.
Not now, he scolded himself. Not ever.
He was no beautiful immortal lord or king, nor did he belong to one of the fairer races that the humans would be drawn to. Not when it came to mating. He had to accept that. A quick fuck, as the orc crudely called, he could manage easily enough if he truly wanted to swallow his pride. Carnal desire was by far the easiest for fae beings to capitalize on. Especially if he offered something for it that would appeal to a human female to sweeten her interest. But he didn’t want that.
But his desire rose, his cock, which had been at half-mast since laying eyes on the human, thickening as his treacherous mind produced her image, recalling each delectable curve. For her, he might have considered sacrificing his pride to taste that. Thank the blessed immortals that she was gone.
Raskyuil stalked back into the camp, his prick hard in the confines of his pants as a certain female continued to drift in the forefront of his mind. He reminded himself, yet again, that he had no use for humans or females. He had seen enough insanity caused by immortals craving mortal brides. Although trolls were not immortal, they were long-lived like most fae, and he was not eager to succumb to that madness.
