Page 2 of Bound to the Orc Ranger

“What the hell?” I spin around, my hand flying up to shield my eyes as the bright light makes my temples throb.

It’snota spotlight.

A swirling vortex spins in the air above me, brilliant white at the center with flashes of icy blue sparkling around the edges. A cool breeze full of the scent of flowers washes over me. A high, sweet melody of notes teases the air, like a song playing in a distant room. I feel like I should recognize it, even though I’ve never heard it before.

A spot of heat warms my chest, and I glance down. My quartz necklace glows, making an orange lantern of my shirt front. I pull it free and grip it. Little zips of electricity shoot through my hand and race up my arm.

“Realize your dreams,”Nonna’s voice whispers from somewhere far away.

Then my own voice resonates through the alley like a struck gong, bouncing off the walls. It’s my earlier wish played back to me at full blast. “I wish my dreams would come true!”

The music rises to a crescendo. Light swoops down around me turning the whole world white.

CHAPTER TWO

Rovann

My fist cracks against Krivoth’s jaw with a satisfying flare of pain in my knuckles. I bare my tusks in a feral grin, knowing he hurts far worse than me.

Yells echo through the village pub as our clan mates circle close, cheering us on. Firelight dances across the wooden walls and floor, flickering over all the familiar green faces. The smell of spilled ale fills the air, our splattered drinks darkening the sawdust at our feet.

Krivoth shakes his head, his long black hair swirling as he narrows his dark eyes. He breaks into a snarl. My own gleeful anger rises to match it. We’ve gone too long without any action, our enemies avoiding us because the Moon Goddess hasn’t offered any sky gifts to fight for.

He lands a lucky punch to my ribs, but the ache only spurs me on. A growl rips from my throat as I block another strike and land one of my own.

I catch a glimpse of Mother’s eager grin as she mimes an uppercut. She leans forward, hands held up and ready to join the fray. Large and powerfully built, she hasn’t taken retirement from the position of warlord without grumbling that peace is boring as shit.

“Enough!” Dravarr bellows from behind me.

My brother’s voice does little to stop us. If anything, we punch faster, our fists a blur, each trying to get in as many blows as possible. Gerna’s voice eggs us on, rising above the others. Krivoth’s sister really does love a good fight.

A hand clamps onto my shoulder, squeezing like the vice grip of a god. It jerks me backward with a rip of tearing cloth.

“I said enough.”

Dravarr looms. He’s seven-feet tall, same as the rest of us, but somehow he still manages to loom. His wide shoulders flare, heavy with muscle. We’re built a lot alike, two of the strongest of the clan, but my brother has one year on me, and it makes him insufferable.

“We’re just sparring.” I bare my tusks, my hands aching to punch him. “No need to stop us.”

“That looked like more than sparring.” His dark eyes snap fire, his chin juts forward, and even his beard seems to bristle with anger.

I gesture to the knife sheathed on my hip, to my sword hanging from a barstool in its scabbard. “No blades drawn. No harm done.”

“No harm done,” Krivoth echoes, and the crowd mumbles it with him, Nana loudest of all.

It’s an ancient saying, brought with us from Avalon, the main realm of Faerie that was our original home. Orcs might be quick to anger and even quicker to fight, but we can take a lot of punishment, too. Brawling is accepted—expected, even.

“Save it for the ogres,” Dravarr snaps.

“What ogres?” I spread my arms wide. “They haven’t attacked in weeks.”

The ogres are bigger than orcs, but we’re the stronger fighters. The massive gray brutes learned long ago not to confront us lightly. These days, they only attack if the Moon Goddess drops sky gifts they want.

But our goddess shuns us, gifting neither rewards nor punishments. Only stars decorate the night sky, the goddess failing to cast her bright light.

Around us, our clan mates shift uneasily. This is the longest we’ve gone without a sign from our goddess. The king sent word to all the orc villages asking if anyone’s seen the Moon Goddess brighten their sky, but no one has. The goddess provides our only connection to the rest of Faerie. Without her, we’re truly alone. The worry puts everyone on edge.

Dravarr knows it, too. He’s simply not willing to admit it. As soon as he became clan warlord, he drove a dagger straight up his own ass, and it’s stolen the fun from him ever since.

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