Thoruk is a huge scary monster of an Orc.

He could break me without a thought.

And somehow I’m in love with him.

There isn’t much left of my world after the Orcs came rampaging through the portal. If you’re a woman, you’re property – and that’s if you’re lucky enough to end up in a human bunker. Life can’t get much worse.

And then I get captured by a band of primal, savage Orcs.

I was foolish enough to be caught while on a foraging mission. I’m taken to the chieftain as a prize. His name is Thoruk and this huge, powerful savage is determined to make me more than a breeder.

He wants more than my curvy body. He wants my heart as well.

He’ll fight for me. He’ll die for me.
But most of all…

He’ll love me.

Chapter 1

Kat

Mushrooms stink.

It’s something you would think I’d get used to, considering that I’ve been doing it all day every day for years, but it never
fails to get to me. To be fair, the mushrooms themselves don’t smell too bad, but they thrive on shit. Shit, darkness, and dampness. Overall, it’s like
working in a swamp.

I run my hands along the loose, wet soil, searching for the bases of the mushrooms. If you clip them too high, then your
overall weights will end up under the limit. The stalks are edible and to get a maximum yield, it’s important to take out every single inch.

The little soft stems come loose with just a bit of pressure from my fingers. I collect them gently and toss them into a big
hessian bag before starting on the next row. I know, I was made for more than this.

My father was a doctor and he trained me to be a medic. He did this at considerable risk to himself and me. Women are forbidden to learn any trade that isn’t manual labor. My father could have been executed
for this crime and me with him, had any of our overlords known of it. While he didn’t impart all his skills to me, he did impart that I feel confident calling
myself a doctor.

My face twists as I hold in my temper. Our overlords in the bunker I live in are bad, but those on the surface are worse.

Orcs.

I focus as hard as I can on the soil and the harvesting. I need to force my mind away from the frustration in case I’m noticed. Troublemakers aren’t tolerated and the overlords love an excuse to make an example of someone. I have to take deep breaths of the foul air and blink hard several times to calm myself.

Don’t think about father. Don’t think about anything except the mushrooms.

I need to keep my head down and work so I can survive another day. As futile as that seems most of the time, I know that to the other women my medical skills are vital. My knowledge is a liability that could get me killed, but it’s also the only thing keeping myself and the other
trapped women alive.

Just as I reach for my sack to throw in another handful of mushrooms, a sharp bell tones above my head. The room is very dark, and I can’t see the ceiling, but a row of flickering lights added to the bell let me know that we are being ordered to stop.

An overseer lumbers by, his face twisted with disdain as he passes me. He might be human, but he’s no better than an orc. His
fingers tighten on his long weapon as if he is expecting trouble. I keep my
eyes down and stay on my knees.

“You’re needed by the Plutarch. Head to the front
area immediately.” His voice is such a guttural growl that conveys his belief
that I belong to him solely because I’m female.

As I hurry up the rows towards the front, I see
about a dozen other women heading the same way. I have no idea how many people
reside in Bunker 83 in total, but there is about a hundred working on the
mushroom fields with me. My stomach begins to twist as we go through the door
into the main foyer area.

This is usually where we are addressed by the
Plutarch or any other important human in our bunker. The main foyer is situated
between the bunk area and the mushroom fields and is cleaner than both. Our
superiors prefer not to enter the ‘filthy’ female areas.

When we file into the dull grey room the Plutarch
is already there, standing above the room over the stairs. He watches us enter
with wide, cold eyes. I try as hard as I can to stay cool, but inside, I’m
screaming. My eyes keep darting around the room, looking into the faces of the
other women. Some just look resigned and tired. Others, like me, are downright
freaked out.

“Congratulations, slaves,” the Plutarch grins as
if he’s about to toss riches from the platform. “You have been specially
selected for a trip to the surface.”

Even though my fear jumps up a few more notches, I
find myself frozen in place. I can’t even tremble, I’m so scared. Women who go
to the surface don’t come back.

Well, okay. There were a few that did. They were
vapid eyed, drooling statues. They were barely any good for harvesting anymore.
I don’t know what’s worse—dying down there, or having my mind destroyed while
my body still lives.

“This will be a supply excursion, an important
mission. You should be thankful for this opportunity,” the Plutarch grins at
us, long rows of sharp, blackened teeth being exposed by his thick lips lifting
up. He goes on in a lofty voice, but I’m not paying attention.

Just a month ago another group of women
disappeared on the surface. I know this is a virtual death sentence. I also
know that roving bands of savage Orcs up there could mean a fate worse than
death. I glance around at the other girls, panic rising in my throat.

I can’t let these girls down. Of all the slaves
here, I might be the only one who can keep them alive. My fear begins to cement
itself into determination. They can condemn me, but it doesn’t mean I’ll die. I
won’t be quick to succumb to madness, either. Not while I have my own mission.

No matter what orders I am given, my only
objective will be to care for these women. My fear still roils deep in my guts,
but I bite my lip hard and look up at the Plutarch, tempted to shoot him a
glare of defiance. I don’t dare though. I have to be impeccable. I have to be
the most obedient of all the prisoners taken to the surface.

It’s the only way to
keep myself and my friends alive.