Luka Voltha's eyes narrowed into slits of pure suspicion. She gripped her dagger so tightly that her knuckles turned a shade paler against her ivory skin.
The Orc Queen circled Ethan slowly in the dimly lit chamber, her bare feet padding softly on the cool stone floor. Ethan was tempted to steal a glance at her beautiful ivory feet, but it was not the time.
Luka was now cautious, since Ethan's invisible power had been strong enough to manhandle her.
The boy stood his ground, his hands raised in what he hoped was a non-threatening gesture. "Can we talk?"
"You," Luka hissed, with venom in her voice. "I misjudged you, Ethan Cromwell, and should have killed you at first sight. Did you think a puny human could waltz into my personal bedchamber and assassinate me? Who sent you on this suicide mission? The Elves? Or have you aligned yourself with that traitor, Garkash?"
