The keep's corridors were dim as Borg dragged Shava by the wrist, his grip firm but not bruising—yet. The chaos outside still roared: orcs shouting, goblins screaming as they were hunted down in the pens. Borg had lit the fuse, and now the fire burned bright. Shava's mind raced, but her body followed, heels scraping the stone flags. She knew resistance now would end her. Play along. Survive. Uncover his acquaintances later.
He shoved open the door to Kragg's private chambers, now his, by right of the knife, slamming it shut behind them with a boom that rattled the hinges. The room was lavish for an orc keep: a massive bed, shelves lined with stolen human treasures—gold goblets, silk tapestries, a few dusty books Kragg had never read. Borg released her wrist and turned the key in the lock, the click final as a cell door.
"Undress," he commanded, voice low and rough, eyes already raking over her like she was a prize won in battle. "
