In my world, being a beautiful woman gets you put in a cage.

There is no hope on Earth.

Being a woman who is beautiful is dangerous.

Because you’ll end up like me. Put in a cage and traded as a commodity for food and water.Into this comes my savior – an orc named Harok.

He raids the outpost I’m held at. Slays all the humans who imprisoned me.

And takes me for himself.

I don’t know about the state of orcs and humanity. I can’t say that I really care if they’ve come through the portal and destroyed our civilization, to be honest. Because I can only think of one thing.

How he came into my cage.

Lifted me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing.

Liberated me and took me in his arms.

Harok the Great won more than my body that day when he rescued me from the humans who had treated me so cruelly.

He won my heart. Forever.

And now I just have one mission that matters to me in life.

How do I win his?

Chapter 1

Geneva

The girl in my arms has started to shake as her deep sobs wrack her body. She is rail thin and the bones in her shoulders are so sharp they could cut ice. I don’t offer her any words of solace—there would be no point. We would both know they would be lies, and I can’t bring myself to do that to her.

All I can do is comfort her with my arms, let her know that despite the horrors that await her, she is not alone. There were many that have come before her and many that will come after, including me. It’s a cycle of misery that will never end.

I’m unsure if it is a good or a bad thing—to feel the deep fear of what’s coming and know that you’re not the only one. Because as much as I am terrified for her and for myself, I would not wish this feeling on anyone else.

The sound of clinking metal and heavy footsteps stalls her crying. She looks up at me, her tears having created dirty streaks down her face. The look in her eyes is enough to break my heart. She can be no older than thirteen or fourteen, but her tiny frame makes her seem even younger.

This is why she is here, alongside me in this cage. Bunker #3 is known for its depraved ways—a human trading post, where people, especially women, are traded for resources. Bunker #78 where I was taken from has always lacked resources—except for women. One of the most valuable in this disgusting and unfair world. Not that we are valued at all, ironically enough. It is about what we can be used for. The prices that we can fetch and the services we can provide.

My only consolation as I crouch on the dirty floor with my back pressed to the metal, is that I am the one who is here. But it wasn’t supposed to be this way, the leader of this bunker is more fond of girls than women.

At twenty-two I am far from what he desires, but there was no way I was going to let him take my twelve-year-old sister. By the time they had brought me here and discovered I am not her, it was too late. I will still fetch a good price for something, but it will not be my sister that monster gets to defile.

She is safe for now, and that is all I wish for, but deep down I know the day will surely come when it is her behind these bars. That is a thought more terrifying than anything that can happen to me, knowing that she could be the plaything of the creature that arranges these deals, or even worse—traded to orcs.

My grip on the girl tightens as the door of the cage opens and a tall, balding man enters. Just to breathe the same air as him makes me sick to my stomach. These people are worse than orcs, using women for their own disgusting purposes without a thought of the suffering and trauma that they cause.

The girl screams and clings to me, her nails digging into my flesh as the man enters and grabs at her. We both desperately try to hold on to each other. But it’s no good. We can hold on all we like—kick and scream all that we can—but we do not hold the power here.

“Please!” I cry. “Leave her and take me instead. She’s weak and will be no good to anyone. Take me!” The panic in me is all-consuming, taking over every cell in my body. I don’t even know this girl, but it’s as if I am giving up my own sister to this man.

My cries are met with a slap to the face that is so hard I almost lose consciousness. My ears ring and dark shadows crawl across my eyes. Still, I persist, clinging on to her leg as she is dragged from me.

When his foot lands in my stomach I’m floored, clutching at my guts and crying out in pain. Her screams are deafening as she sees what he’s done to me, knowing no doubt that she can expect just as brutal a treatment. But she’s a child, and even though she will have seen and experienced many dark things in this life, she has no idea of the things that can happen to her now.

“Fucking women!” he curses, dragging the child away. “When will these bitches learn!”

The clinking of metal returns as the cage door is closed and locked and I let out a scream of rage and sorrow for every woman and girl that has to endure this hell. Her screams are now muffled by his hands as he shouts and curses at her for putting up such a fight.

What does he expect—that we should go willingly to the torture that awaits us? Is their arrogance so huge and lack of empathy so lacking? I can only surmise that it is.

Must this existence be so dark? Surely we can do better than the life we have created for ourselves. It was not down to us that the orcs arrived through the rift, overtaking our planet and resources, driving us underground. But what has happened since then is nothing but our own doing—that of the men that chose to use females to reassert their dominance.

Now, if they’re not dominating and manipulating us then they are trying to use and outwit other settlements. What is wrong with this world! As humans we should be uniting to fight the orcs that have invaded this planet, and yet all we do is cause more suffering and misery.

There have been many nights when I’ve wondered if it is like this the world over. There have been whispers that not all settlements behave as the ones that I know do. But they are only whispers. Anything else would enrage the leaders—they don’t want people, especially women, to know that there is another way, and that others out there are changing.

But I keep those whispers alive. Somewhere where they can't be seen or heard by others, deep inside where no one can touch them or take them from me. They've taken enough from me, my freedom, my choices, the ability to live my life as I see fit.

They've taken so much from many of us, for years, thinking that we are worthless and that we do not matter. We do matter. Our grandmothers, our mothers, our sisters, our cousins, our friends. All of us that live now and came before.

The orcs may have taken away everything that we knew. Thrown us back into a time that we thought was long gone—technologically and socially. But that should not have meant we went backwards instead of forwards. The orcs came and we retreated, stepped backwards in every sense possible.

Becasue the human heart is filthy, maybe more so than that of the orc. At least they know what they are. Humans pretend to be civilized, imagining themselves to be wise and intelligent, and yet act worse than animals.

They have drained the energy from my body and the hope from my heart and replaced it with something dark and empty. A deep void that I am being drawn into, breaking apart as it takes me, piece by broken piece.

Curling up into a ball the helplessness overtakes me. Tears erupt and burn my cheeks. Why must it be like this? Why must I be like this? I should have done something, but I instead I am here, caged like an animal unable to help myself or others.

Waiting for it to be me.