Forced to face the orc by the hold he had on her hair, Shaelee tried to keep her fear from her eyes.  He wanted to see it, to know how she trembled at his touch and she wanted to deny him the pleasure of seeing her flinch from his violence.  What she had not expected was the way her stomach fluttered at the touch of his hand or the way her breath caught as his fingers caressed her breast for a moment.  Even with him growling his words at her, she was so stunned by this reaction that she could only stare back at the carnelian glow of his eyes.<br/><br/>Then he yanked her to her feet by his hold on her hair, ripping away her clothes.  Resisting was instinctive then, both of her hands trying to hold his back as low, frightened cries escaped her.  She’d hated the robes of an acolyte for what they’d represented to her; a life sacrificed at the whim of others.  Without them she was utterly vulnerable, trembling and yet she stood with her fingers curled into fists and pressed against her bare belly.  It took all her effort to hold his gaze, to not try to cover herself or run.<br/><br/>“I’ll not beg at your feet,” she insisted.  She said nothing to refute his claim that he could take from her whatever he wanted; if he desired her as his whore then Shaelee knew her refusal was little more than an amusement to him.  “Not all elves ruled... some of us were ruled over and I’ll not beg only to give you the pleasure of denying me.  Not again.”  She knew nothing of the orcs, not where they came from or how they came into being.  There had only been the rumors of their viciousness and thirst for blood and violence.  Had these creatures not fallen upon her village, had she simply met one upon the road that offered her no harm she would not have looked on him with such dread as she did now.  For a moment she glanced down and just behind the orc at the woman that had once been a proud warrioress, lovely and skilled, and mourned for a moment the loss of the bright spirit that had been Makretia.  “Magicborn you might be… but if all you can do is destroy everything you touch then you are no God.  You are only stronger and more ruthless.”<br/><br/>Let him do as he would with her, she would not become a mindless, lost soul like Doshvin.  He could break her body, torture and even kill her, but she wouldn't lose who she was to him.  They'd already taken everything else from her.  A thought, a wicked, wanton thought, occurred to her and she tilted her head as she looked at the orc.  Dare she open herself to that possibility?  No.  He would only laugh to know she considered it and knowing this her face flushed with embarrassment.