Page 3 of The Orc's Stolen Bride

Mist began seeping up from the ground, gradually surrounding him, but he kept chanting. The fog grew thicker, obscuring everything else. A crack of lightning split the sky and thunder rattled the ancient stones. He held his position. Blood dripped from his arm onto the altar, the drops vanishing into the stone. Light flashed again, this time within the fog itself. Shadows flickered just beyond his sight and he heard the murmur of voices.

Lightning crashed directly overhead. Instead of blinding him, the white-hot flash only heightened his senses. The scent of spice and rain and his own hot blood filled his nostrils. The fog danced. Images appeared in the swirling clouds, images of warriors and women and the child of a perfect mating. All of his hopes and dreams were there and then it was all gone, and darkness rushed over him.

When he regained consciousness, he was lying next to the altar stone. The candles had burned out completely, leaving only a few dark smudges. All trace of the wine and blood were gone as well and the gash across his palm had closed into a long-healed scar.

He rose to his feet, looking around uncertainly. He wasn't sure what he'd expected but it wasn't this... emptiness. The storm had passed, the mist had gone, and he could clearly see and hear the night beyond the stones. Nothing had changed.

It would be foolish to expect an immediate answer, he told himself, fighting back a wave of despair as he walked slowly out through the rings of stone, his legs weak and trembling. When he saw his brothers sitting beside a small fire, he forced his knees to tighten and firmed his stride. They looked up as he emerged from the stones, their expressions equal parts of relief and concern. He wondered briefly how bad he looked. Lothar came to meet him, but stopped an arm’s length away.

“What is it?” Thankfully, his voice was rough but strong.

“Your eyes…” Lothar whispered. “They’re glowing blue.”

Frowning, he looked at Egon who had moved up beside Lothar. The big man nodded, his face unreadable. He looked around again, but everything appeared normal. Too tired to think about it and chilled by the breeze, he picked up the leather pants he'd discarded before entering the stones. As he was pulling them on, he looked beyond his still silent brothers to the lake. A thick fog was forming over its surface, rising into the air and glowing with an odd bluish light. A trickle of unease slipped up his spine.

“Do you see the fog?”

They both followed the direction of his gaze and shook their heads.

“There’s something there,” he insisted. The fog thickened briefly, then thinned to a fine veil. He had a momentary impression of sunlight illuminating a peaceful park filled with odd trees and surrounded by even stranger buildings before a flash of light erased all traces of the fog. The flash was followed immediately by a loud splash and a muffled but definitely feminine shriek. With one accord, the brothers turned and raced toward the lake. He led the way, picking up the sound of splashing and praying that the woman was all right. He reached the shore just as a very naked female emerged from the water.

The panic that had overtaken him at the thought of a female in trouble disappeared in a cold rush as he realized that no Norhaven female would have been swimming alone in such an isolated location. Females were too few and too valuable to ever be left unattended. And this female was no orc. She bore a closer resemblance to the females of the Old Kingdom.

But where had she come from? Could she be the literal answer to his prayers? He had prayed for an answer for his people, for an end to the Curse, but what could one female do?

One very small female, he realized as his eyes swept over her. She was so small, her head would barely reach the middle of his chest but her body was lushly curved. Her long hair streamed water but appeared to be an unusual light color. His eyes dropped to her heavy breasts, the nipples hard with cold, and down to the light patch of curls between rounded hips, and his shaft stiffened despite the questions swirling through his mind.

She had been picking her way out of the water, watching her feet and muttering, but as she reached the shoreline she looked up and saw him. Her eyes widened with shock and she stepped back a pace before straightening her shoulders and lifting her chin. The female might be small but she had courage.

Her eyes flicked briefly to his brothers, standing shocked and silent behind him before lifting to his face. He studied hers, her features soft and rounded like her body. Her mouth had a tempting pout with a full lower lip. Her eyes were large and thickly lashed, the color indeterminate in the moonlight. The moment their eyes met, electricity shivered over his skin, and he felt the mate bond click into place. A surge of happiness filled him, immediately followed by a surge of guilt. Had his personal desire for a bride been stronger than his desire to help his people?

A small wave swept over her feet and the female shivered, reminding him that she was naked, and his questions disappeared beneath the urge to protect her. One of his brothers moved behind him, reminding him of their presence. Growling, he immediately stepped forward to shield her naked body from their sight.

“Bring me my shirt,” he snapped as he moved closer.

Her pretty lips parted and he was so entranced by their soft curves that for a moment he didn’t realize that she was speaking – and that he didn’t understand a word she'd said.

CHAPTER THREE

Kari closed the front door behind her and immediately kicked off her heels with a sigh of relief. How had she let herself be dragged out of her house, at nine o’clock at night no less, for yet another house tour with the Jamesons? Oh, that’s right - because she intended to be the highest selling real estate agent in Charleston before she was thirty, that’s why. With another sigh, she headed for the kitchen and the pint of Chunky Monkey waiting in the freezer.

On the way to the kitchen, she detoured to the bathroom to start a bath. The old plumbing needed a lot of time to fill the equally ancient claw foot tub. She had purchased the house because it had beautiful bones and was a great investment - and it would be, if she ever had the time to devote to actually completing the thousand and one renovations it needed. Setting the tub to its highest trickle, she stumbled over the loose tile by the bathroom door - another project - and stubbed her toe. Swearing under her breath, she reached the kitchen and opened the refrigerator to find that it had stopped running at some point that day, no doubt blowing yet another fuse. Her pint of ice cream had dissolved into a gooey mess that coated the few bags of no longer frozen vegetables and prepared meals that made up the meager contents of her freezer.

This was one of the few times when she really longed for a man in her life, someone she could call to go down into the scary basement to replace the fuse. Or at least stand at the top of the stairs while she did it. Her real estate business meant that she spent many of her nights and weekends showing houses instead of dating. Since Bill, her last long term boyfriend,, had been transferred across the country to San Francisco - a move which she suspected came as a relief to both parties - she just hadn’t bothered to start looking again. It didn’t help that most of her friends were now in the married and starting a family phase leaving them little interest in a Girl’s Night Out.

Unable to face the trip to the basement, or cleaning out the refrigerator, she grabbed a bottle of wine and a glass instead and headed for the tub. The water still dripping out of the faucet had turned an unappetizing brown and she suddenly remembered receiving a notification from the city that they were working on the pipes on her street this week. Abandoning all hope of relaxation in favor of anesthetization, she sank on to the overstuffed couch, the only piece of furniture in the formerly grand parlor, and poured a large glass of wine. The first was quickly followed by another and as the level sank in the bottle, so did her mood. Most of the time she didn’t regret focusing on her career - growing up dirt poor had taught her the value of financial independence - but tonight she just felt miserable and lonely.

The next day did not start out any better. She had fallen asleep on the couch so she overslept, her stubbed toe was so swollen she couldn’t wear her favorite pair of pumps, and she broke several traffic laws racing across town to get to the house on Rutledge on time only to arrive just as her clients texted her a message saying that they would need to reschedule. Since she now had two hours to fill, she made an uncharacteristically impulsive decision and decided to head for the Battery. The small park on the tip of the peninsular was one of her favorite places.

Leaning against the sea wall, she enjoyed the breeze off the water alleviating the usual humidity. The breeze had tempted a few sailors and she idly watched as the boats swept across the sparkling water. Still too early in the day for the normal invasion of tourists, the usually busy park was almost deserted. The loneliness returned and, after a brief hesitation, she picked up her cell phone.

“Hello?” Her mother’s voice still retained the full southern drawl that Kari had worked so hard to soften.

“Hey, Momma.”

“Kari?” The surprise in her mother’s voice caused a brief pang of guilt. She hadn’t called home in what, almost three months? Not since the obligatory Mother’s Day call. “Is something wrong?”

“No, not really. I’ve just had a bad couple of days.”

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