Raine

Khol pulls me through the hallways of the hive, past confused looking orcs, but none try and stop us.

His soldiers circle us, their hands on their weapons and I pray that they would draw them, that they would threaten the wrong orc and that the hive would rise up and kill Khol and his men, but none ever did.

Until we got to the entrance to the hive.

The guards who stand on either side of it eye our group warily, their battle axes cross over the doors as one growls, "nobody is to leave until the festivities are over. Queens orders."

Khol scoffs, "I am the governor of Oakrun, I can leave whenever I want and no smelly orc is going to stop me!"

He signals to his men and they move with surprising speed, drawing their swords and killing the guards before they can react.

Khol's men shoved open the doors, letting the bright sunlight flood in and as we walk out into the bitter cold, I'm suddenly reminded that I'm in nothing but a thin dress with no shoes and no protection against the cold.

"Khol," I whisper, hating the taste of his name on my tongue.

"What?" He groans in exasperation.

"I don't have shoes," I tell him as my feet start to go numb.

He looks at me as if truly seeing me for the first time since he took me, his eyes taking over my body in a way that makes my skin crawl. "There's clothes in the wagon," he tells me. "Not that you'll be in them long. By the looks of you, you're about to pop, and when that happens it's back to the den for you. And this time, I'm going to chain you to a bed in the deepest pits of the den and you're never getting out again."

"I'll kill you before that happens," I tell him with all the hate that I have.

His hand grabs my face and he holds me tightly, "you tried that once before, remember?" His other hand pulls the bottom of his shirt up, revealing a long jagged scar, "you almost managed it too. But when it really came down to it, you couldn't kill me. So threaten me all you want Raine, we both know that you'll never have the balls to kill me."

He shoves me away, sending me to the ground in a heap. The snow bites my skin, my hands going numb and white.

One of his men pulls me to my feet, his eyes almost sorrowful as he pulls me after the group that's now heading down the mountain. Their boots cut through the snow making a path that's easy to follow but my feet grow number by the second making it nearly impossible for me to walk.

After the third time I trip, the man who'd been pulling me picks me up, cradling me close as he walks closer to the group. Khol glares as us but doesn't say anything, his mood seeming to grow darker the further that we go.

We walk for hours, and as the sun starts to set, we get to a group of wagons that are nestled in the trees. A few men stand guarding them and Khol greets them as we approach, "get the wagons ready! It's time to go!"

"But boss," one starts to argue.

"It's nearly night," another one says.

"And the damn orcs are plotting in that mountain as we speak," he yells at them. "So if you want to wait here for them to come and kill you, by all means, wait! But we are going back to Oakrun." He turns to the man who's holding me, "take her to the wagon, get her changed and settled then come help with wagons."

"Yes sir," the man says as he starts to carry me towards a wagon at edge of the group. Once to it, he sets me down on the back, "there's a basket of clothes inside. They will be tight. He didn't expect you to be pregnant when he packed them. There's blankets and food as well." He starts to turn away but pauses and adds, "don't run. You are not fast but we are and the wolves are faster."

He leaves then, leaving me alone to crawl deeper into the wagon. There's just enough light to make out the basket of clothes and to get dressed. The man hadn't been lying when he said the clothes would be tight, the pants wouldn't lace and the shirt nearly split as I pulled it over my stomach. Thankfully the boots still fit and my freezing feet started to burn as they warmed up.

There's a pile of blankets next to the basket and I pull one over my shoulders. In the last days of the sunshine, a glint of metal catches my attention. Crawling over to it, I find the food the man had told me about sitting on a metal plate.

Tossing the food aside, I pick up the plate and smile- it was the same ones from the breeding den. A thin, cheap metal that often bent and broke.

Bracing the plate against the floor, I fold it in half, breaking it.

Running my finger over the broken edge, my skin splits as it cuts me. My smile gets bigger as I hide it under my blanket and settle back against the wall of the wagon.

Khol was right about one thing- Raine could never kill him.

But I am not Raine.

The stupid bastard never could tell us apart.