I grew up in Hell. Now with the help of a giant orc, I’ll build myself a Heaven.

I’ve worked with the orcs in their war against the dark elves.

But that didn’t mean I ever thought I’d love one of these hulking monsters.

Pitha is different.

He’s a war machine, yes. But with the soul of a poet.

His arms and thighs are strong. They could break me easily.

But when they wrap around me?

It’s like a gentle breeze.

Who knew such a beast could be capable of so much affection.

All these years, Pitha has had to fight and kill. But now that he has me…

He can finally love.

Chapter 1

Pitha

The sun crests over the horizon, bathing the dark night sky with deep reds and pinks that drown out the shimmering stars overhead.

The sight reminds me of the battlefield, the ground coated in the blood of dark elves and their crushed supporters at my feet. It isn’t a secret that orcs and dark elves have been at war for longer than anyone can remember.

Yet, they’re still foolish enough to keep trying to massacre us.

Since taking over the borders that oversee The Dark Forest, there have been too many of those vagrants who have tried to break our lines and force the war to reach the smaller bases in the North and South of our region.

Neither of which have been breached as of yet.

It’s a fool’s mission, really. But that doesn’t stop the dark elves from trying, and failing. No matter how many times they’ve come after us, it always ends in a bloodbath. Every single time.

Some days, it fuels me—seeing the dark ruby liquid spattering over my clothes and weapons. Other days, it enrages me—the audacity they have to think that they’re better than us. Stronger than us. It’s all a part of their game to wear us down over time and make us believe that giving up is the better option.

It isn’t and never will be. If I have to fight to the death to save my brethren from facing the same cruelties that so many of our species have, then so be it. I’ll fall on the sword and take my enemies with me.

With the morning light brightening the sky overhead, I make my way from my sleeping quarters to the mess hall in the center of the encampment. This isn’t a large base by any means, but since we’ve only been using it to keep track of the dark elves trying to cross the borders, it’s served its purposes.

A few other orcs are out wandering this early, all of which nod to me in respect.

“Good morning, Chieftain.”

I nod back. “Morning.”

Reaching the mess hall, the warm aromas of breakfast hit me and cause my stomach to grumble. It’s been a while since I’ve had time to stop by here, and my body has sorely missed it. With Gor and I out tracking dark elves, we’ve seldomly had time for a freshly cooked meal.

Rations will only hold you off for so long before they get stale and unfulfilling.

I take my seat at one of the stools by the counter, nodding to the few cooks that spot me. A plate of food is brought out to me before I have any time to contemplate on what exactly I’m in the mood for.

“Got you one of everything, sir.” One of the younger orcs, a child named Baalar, grins at me.

Amused, I reach for my fork and stab at a larger piece of meat. “Good on you.”

He leaves me be at that, much like everyone around here does.

I prefer it that way.

I’m not much of a conversationalist, and the times I do engage, it’s typically only to Gor, my second, and mostly while we’re discussing strategy for the battlefield. Could I be a little more social? I suppose, but that isn’t going to rid ourselves of the dark elf problem, so why bother wasting my energy?

Besides, my clan needs a strong leader, not one that sits around to chat all day. What kind of protector would that make me? A completely useless one.

On the other side of the hall, the doors fly open and slam against the walls. Turning on my stool with my fork drawn up to my mouth, I spot Gor. His eyes search for a second before landing on me.

“We have a problem.”

Frowning, I get up immediately, tossing my fork.

I don’t ask questions, letting him lead me out of earshot of the civilians. His shoulders are pulled back tight, a posture that I’ve come to know very well with how much time we’ve spent together over the years.

He stops right outside of the mess hall, turning to me. “Dark elf traces were spotted a few miles from here.”

My lips pull back from my teeth. “Those rat bastards.”

We’d battled them only a few short days ago, which is why it surprises me that they’ve already come crawling out of whatever hole they spawn from to challenge us again.

Dark elves, while magic users, have short reserves to rely on while in battle. They’re only as good as they’re magic as far as I’m concerned, and once that’s been exhausted, they’re as tough as humans.

Which makes taking them out once they reach that point so easy. It’s the getting there that’s a hassle. They put up quite the fight—which if it were any other species, I’d admire as a valiant effort.

“How long ago?” My hand is already reaching for the machete strapped to my hip.

“Few hours. Before sunrise.”

Barely a week out and they’re already looking to get slaughtered again. It makes me grin at the thought. Excellent. I can’t wait to crush them beneath my boot.

“Gather the troops, we’ll head out in twenty minutes.”

***

We head into The Dark Forest on mounts that carry us deep into the forest.

Gor’s intel is good, leading us on a trail that is ripe with dark elf energy. It surprises me at first that they’ve been able to get this far without any of us noticing beforehand, but then again, their magic can be powerful if left in the right hands.

Their abilities are beyond my scope of understanding, but that doesn’t make taking them out any less satisfying. I welcome the challenge, as do the rest of my troop.

Once this world is finally rid of those disgusting bastards, that’s the day I’ll put my machete to rest and consider finding myself a nice place to retire to. Until then, I relish the feeling of blood coursing through my veins and the energy that fuels me from cutting them all down.

I slow us to a stop as the forest grows denser and harder to navigate with our mounts. The trail still forges ahead of us, through the thicket and the curling vines that wrap around trees that block our way.

“We’ll track on foot from here. They shouldn’t be too far out—”

Movement catches my eyes, halting my tongue. My hand fists around the hilt of my machete, my leg coming over and swinging my body down to the ground. Behind me, my troop quiets, readying themselves as well.

It wouldn’t be the first time a dark elf has thought himself bold and approached us like this. If anything, it would give us a clean cut through to capture and press him for information on where the rest of his hoard is.

Despite their tough exteriors, dark elves crack quite easily when it comes to torture.

Unsheathing my machete, I hold it down to my side with a firm grip. Off to the left of me, I see a bush move slightly. It’s a movement that would be lost if I hadn’t been focusing on it so intently.

I raise my weapon, moving as quietly as I can. The bush moves again, this time much more obvious. Slicing through it in a single hook of my wrist, I catch whatever is on the other side of it.

A garbled noise fills my ears, a grin stretching over my face. “Got you, you bastard.”

 Pulling the bush apart, a mountain lion growls back at me. My machete is buried deep in its side, my hold of it forcing it down onto the ground.

“What…?”

There is a rumbling laugh that filters through my troop.

“Pitha’s caught himself a pet.”

I turn, glaring at Gor. “Funny.”

He flashes me a grin. “I am, yes.”

I rip my blade out of the mountain lion’s side and hook it around the animal’s throat, slashing it to put it out of its misery. There wouldn’t be a way for it to have survived my initial cut through its hind anyway.

“Well, at least we know our Chieftain can track animals. Might be good if one of the cooks runs out of meat for our stew.”

Another rumble of laughter from the troop.

Rolling my eyes, I head back over to my mount, wiping my blade on my leg. If I’m an immovable mountain, Gor is certainly a rolling wind.

“You have a lot to say for someone who, just last week, almost pissed himself over a bat flying overhead.”

Gor frowns at me. “That… was different. We were in a cave.”

“A cave with an exit that you ran quite quickly to.”

At that huff, I turned to grab the reins of my mount. Something pin-prickles the back of my neck, causing me to turn again. Off in the distance, I see more movement. Another mountain lion? That doesn’t make sense though, they aren’t pack hunters.

I hold up my hand, silencing the others as they begin to chatter away.

Something isn’t right here…

A sharp whistle cuts through the air, singing past me.

My eyes widen as the arrow lodges itself into my mount’s hind. “Down!”