CHAPTER 25: VENGEANCE COMETH
Narrowing her eyes, Orchan’Da crossed her ankles as the three figures on the other end past the bridge moved about. The man—Falinor, turning to address her giants directly, his sword held high and his shoulders squared.
The sorceress smiled gleefully, her teeth showing in a toothy grin she knew was unbecoming of an attractive giantess—but she was not being entertained by a courtier—she was going to take her pleasures tonight in delicious vengeance at the wrongs Harrkania’Dar had done her—and she would finish what she had started with Falinor.
“Mmm!” she intoned with barely hidden interest as her womanly needs were instantly awakened. She laughed aloud, her tones musical and smooth with femininity. But in her eyes burned the passions of a predator that wished to feast.
“Orchan’Da,” said Acro’Nor from her side. “What do you wish of us?”
She mused on his question in a hum of thought. Despite the many exits of the temple, it did not seem that Harrkania was intending to leave—and certainly not Falinor, who clearly meant to face them—to “stop them coming across the bridge.” She almost laughed again.
And yet, she was looking forward to seeing how many of her warriors he could kill from atop those steps!
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
“Poor Harrkania’Dar,” she mocked. Then hardening, she said, “Bring me Falinor and Harrkania alive!”
“And the other?”
She waved a dismissive hand. “He is of no use to me. Kill him.”
Acro’Nor moved forward one pace, signaling to his warriors to carry out her orders, when a thought struck her—the thought and the shame and the rage she had experience when Harrkania-fucking-Dar had slammed her knuckled fist into Ochan’Da’s nose, breaking and crushing the bones within.
Actually, it had been me who was fucking…
She had used a healing spell to mend her face, and even now there were no lasting marks of any kind to mar her beautiful face—and yet, the marks of defeat weighed within her, her embarrassment like a stinging thorn of poison.
She raised a hand. “Wait!”
Acro’Nor raised a fist in signal as he looked to her.
“I want Harrkania brought to me as well,” she said. “I will lavish”—she tightened her hands over the coils of her whip so hard the leather creaked and strained—“my anger over her, as she deserves.”
“Yes, Orchan’Da,” Acro’Nor said with a bow. “Your will be done.”
He snapped his fingers and ten of his warriors started making their way down the steps before them, their swords and clubs held in their strong arms.
And then something she did not expect happened.
Falinor.
He moved down the steps, his word held high and his legs moving quickly as he ran down the bridge to meet their warriors?!
She laughed.
So yummy, Falinor!
“Make certain they do not kill him, Acro’Nor!”
Saying nothing, her most powerful warrior went down the steps to meet his men as they confronted Falinor—or rather, she thought with a smile—as he comes to confront us!