Audrey was in her room doing another set of push-ups, her arms trembling slightly as she lowered herself to the floor and pushed back up. She had lost count somewhere around fifty but kept going.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand.
She froze mid-push-up, then scrambled to her feet and grabbed the phone. The screen showed a text from Monica.
He’s here. Come down now.
For a moment, Audrey just stood there staring at the message. She could feel her pulse racing in her throat. This was it. After two weeks of waiting, after years of planning and training, this was finally it.
She ran to the bathroom and looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was damp with sweat, and her face was flushed. Her hair had grown a little longer since she’d arrived at the institute,just past her ears now, still shorter than she wanted but better than before. She stripped off her workout clothes and turned on the sink, splashing cold water on her face and under her arms. There was no time for a proper shower, so she grabbed a towel and dried off as quickly as she could.
She went to the closet and pulled out the sexiest dress she owned. It was tight and dark green, and it showed off her curves, which was the most important part. She pulled it on, tugging at the fabric until it sat right, then went back to the mirror.
Her hands shook as she applied red lipstick. She added a bit of eyeshadow, something she rarely did, darkening her lids just enough to make her blue eyes stand out. When she was done, she looked at herself and barely recognized the woman staring back at her.
She looked soft. Feminine. Two words that definitely didn’t define her.
Audrey took a deep breath, steadied herself, and walked out of her room.
Monica was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs.
“What took you so long?”
“Sorry.”
The institute was busy with the Doors Open Day, and Audrey could hear voices and movement coming from the main hall, where the tributes were gathered. But Monica didn’t lead her that way. Instead, she grabbed Audrey’s arm and pulled her quickly down a side hallway, away from the noise.
Monica stopped in front of a door and turned to face Audrey.
“Are you ready?”
Audrey nodded, not trusting her voice to answer.
Her friend opened the door and ushered her inside.
The room was one of the sitting rooms that the tributes used to relax, read books, or watch TV. It was simple but comfortable, with a worn couch against one wall, and a couple of armchairsarranged around a low coffee table. The curtains were open, letting in the gray afternoon light.
But Audrey barely noticed any of that, because all she could see was him.
Morgath the Skullreaper stood near the window, his massive frame filling the space in a way that made the room feel awfully small. He was even bigger than she had imagined, taller and broader than any orc she’d seen before. His green skin was covered in scars. Long, black hair fell in waves down his shoulders, and tattoos covered his entire back and arms, the intricate patterns marking him as a captain.
But it was the skull he wore that made her freeze.
The massive, horned skull covered his entire head, hiding his face completely. Up close, it was absolutely terrifying. The bone was yellowed and ancient, and the curved horns jutted out from the sides like weapons. The hollow eye sockets were dark and empty. They seemed to stare straight through her, seeing everything she was trying to hide.
Audrey had imagined this moment a thousand times. But standing here now, looking at the skull and the massive warrior who wore it, she felt something she hadn’t felt in a very long time.
Real fear.
Her body froze. Her mind went blank. All she could do was stand there, staring at the creature in front of her, unable to move, speak, or even breathe.
Chapter Four
Audrey did her best to mask her shock. She forced her face to remain neutral and tried to steady her breathing, but her heart pounded so hard she thought it might burst through her chest. Her stomach twisted into knots. She was starting to break into a sweat.
The orc captain shot her one long glance, his dark eyes barely visible through the skull’s hollow sockets. Then he looked past her shoulder at Monica, who was still standing in the doorway.
“Is this the female you think is perfect for me?” he asked. “I don’t like her.”
