Stolen by the Orc Commander

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Copyright © 2023 by K.L. Wyatt All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review. For more information, address: [email protected] eBook ISBN: 979-8-9872398-9-6 Paperback ISBN: 979-8-9872398-8-9 Cover Art by Calico Moss (@CalicoMoss) Cover Design by Haya Designs Interior Formatting by Stacey Blake Editing by Lori Parks authorklwyatt.com For content warnings please click here Interested in seeing NSFW art? Join my patreon here TABLE OF CONTENTS Title Page Dedication Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Epilogue To younger me, you made it. And to Emma, thank you for believing in me even when I didn’t believe in myself. The kingdom of Everdean is as vast as it is beautiful. Nestled in the continent of Oreas, it is only one of many kingdoms. The evergreen trees stand tall like giants, the great lakes glisten in the sun, and the mountains look like heaven. However, beauty is deceiving. It attracts and stalks its prey with lethal accuracy. At best, you know of its poison and can only hope to survive it, but at its worst you are completely unaware until it’s too late. Luckily I fall into the former category. It’s the only reason I have survived as long as 23 years in this gods-forsaken world. This land is rotten, sucking life out of all its inhabitants. Humans aren’t the only creatures who live here. The continent is composed of many species like elves, mages, and the fae. Everdean’s most dangerous creature, however, takes the form within our own kind, our King. His majesty, Elron, is a self-obsessed lunatic who would rather sacrifice his people than give up his fight with the orcs. Ah, the orcs. The creatures who live within the mountains of the north. They are large green beasts who will kill anything in their path and yet, we continue to provoke them. It takes nearly five of our human men to kill just one of theirs. Yet, war has been waging for over 30 years. It has robbed me of everything—my family, my home, and any sense of security I might have known. I was 7 years old when Elron’s men arrived in our village. I was 7 when I lost everything. When you look upon an orc, you see what is truly there. A creature. A violent predator. One who is struck with such bloodlust that your suffering tends to be short, however violent. Although I’ve never seen one up close, as it would surely mean my death, I would be at peace knowing what is to come. Humans on the other hand are beautiful yet cruel. There is a certain type of deception that soothes your wiles before striking. Like a cat playing with its prey, not for food, but simply for fun. Crouching on the forest floor, the clovers tickle my ankles through the unkempt holes in my pant legs. Surviving on my own since a child has allowed me to develop some unique skills sets. Tracking and trapping being just two of them. Today I am ready to take back a small piece of what feels like is owed to me. The job was simple: stop the royal transport carriage, rob them, and escape. Emphasis on that last part. Except today felt different. Today felt wrong. Shaking off my bad feeling, I didn’t have much choice in the matter. This is what I do to live, this is how I survive. You don’t get a job when you are a 7-year-old girl. If you are lucky, some take pity on you and throw you scraps. If your luck runs out, your only other choice is to work in the brothels that will house and feed you. The cost? Your soul. I’ve witnessed first-hand the hollowness of those who have been forced to give something that was not freely offered. That was when I learned that a choice that is made under duress and desperation really isn’t a choice at all. So I decided early on that I would steal what I needed from the people who put me in this predicament. The King and his men. Just then I could hear the royal commission wagon making its way down the dirt road. Just on time. After I learned most of their traveling routes, timing just required patience. Afterall, what was a lonely 23-year-old girl meant to do with no family for support? It only took about a few years to learn all of the routes and since I’ve been doing transport theft since I was 16, a carriage ambush came to me like second nature. Boring some might say. I have to say it earned me quite a reputation. I was known as the Hooded Bandit amongst the King’s men. Naturally they thought me to be a man, and therefore hiding didn’t prove to be much of a challenge. The first of their many mistakes. The sun had barely risen and I was utterly exhausted—that tends to happen when you spend your night chopping down a tree. You see, it is best to blockade a path with something that is inconspicuous. Something that would not panic the armed guards. Little did they know what was about to strike. They might be vicious, but so was I. I could see the horses nearing and as the sound of their hooves started to crescendo, I