Page 15 of Bound to the Orc Ranger

“Moving pictures that tell a story.”

He frowns harder.

“The movies aren’t important.” I wave a hand. “It’s spending time together,doingthings together, talking and getting to know one another.”

“We’ve eaten meals together—many wonderful meals thanks to your magic—and we’ve ridden together.” His eyes gleam with determination. “Now we will talk and do more things,wooingthings.”

The heated promise in his words makes my thighs clench.

CHAPTER TEN

Rovann

We ride at a gentle pace, now crossing orc land, safer than we’ve been in days. I could tell Hurtle to take us to the closest village to spend the night, but I don’t. We’ll arrive at my home in only a few days’ time, and I want to spend every moment of it alone with my bride.

It confounds me that my moon bound doesn’t understand what we are to each other, that she’s never heard of the Moon Goddess. Yet it shouldn’t be such a surprise. All the old tales stress how different humans are and how the fae of Avalon liked to use those differences to toy with humans.

But we aren’t in the Avalon of centuries past, and this human is my moon bound bride, gifted to me by the goddess. I vow to revel in Olivia’s differences, to learn her ways and woo her to me. Orcs do not back down from challenges, and I won’t fail this one.

Hurtle breaks through a stand of blue birch, and the warm light of the afternoon sun shines into the clearing ahead, making the still surface of the hot spring gleam like gold.

The breeze lifts Olivia’s dark-honey hair until it teases my face, the smell of her heady and alluring. My arm tightens around her, pulling her to me until that sweet little bottom brushes against my erection.

“Rovann!” She sucks in a breath.

I’ve been careful up until now to hide how much she affects me, but no more. It’s time my bride knows the truth of how I long for her. It is, after all, one way she can “get to know me.”

It’s time to start my promised wooing. I slide to the ground and pull Olivia into my arms instead of setting her on the ground.

“Come, my bride.” I brush the soft shell of her ear with my tusks until she shivers. “We will bathe and ‘do things’ together.” I like this human phrase—its very imprecision means it can hold any meaning I wish.

Hurtle mutters, “Goddess, help me.”

“Go find a pooka to play with.” The horse-shaped fae flit through the woods, their coats as black as a unicorn’s is white. Their mischievous, playful nature offers a balm to the seriousness of my friend, and I wish him the joy of it.

“I will.” He stamps, his hoof striking stone, and trots off into the forest.

Olivia’s hazel eyes stare at me as I carry her to the edge of the pool. Up close, sunlight no longer gilds the surface, and the water shows clear and pure, obscured by only the tiniest wisps of steam. Water nymphs prefer cooler moving water, so none make their home here. We are alone.

Moss-covered rocks ring the oblong pool. I set her upon one and tug off my boots, my toes digging into the soft and succulent greenery. My hands are eager as they strip my tunic overhead. No matter how good the magic of the cleaning cloth, it can’t compare to a real bath.

Why lie about my real reason? Holding Olivia close for several days and nights has been the sweetest torture. The peeks of her body have stoked my desire to an inferno. I do not know how I will withstand the full force of her beauty, but I plan to find out.

“What… what are you doing?” A pretty flush darkens her cheeks like the sun staining the clouds a glorious pink at sunset. The color captivates me. As do her eyes, which trace over me greedily. Does she even realize how hungry she is?

I make a show of it, lifting my arms and working to release my braid, so my muscles flex in display. Free of its confines, my hair falls around my shoulders and chest like a curtain. I push it back—I would have her see me.

My hands drop to the front of my pants, unfastening the leather.

Olivia’s eyes latch onto my hands, wide and unblinking.

A smirk tugs at the corners of my mouth, and I slow down, enjoying the way she tracks every movement. “I’m letting you ‘get to know me.’”

With that, I lean over and pull off my breaches, the buttery leather peeling from my skin until I stand before her, naked.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Olivia

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