Page 20 of Bound to the Orc Ranger

Then the ogres are on me, and I have no more attention to spare.

I lunge right, the point of my sword aimed straight for the heart. Outnumbered as I am, there’s no mercy possible this time.

The ogre blocks with her mace, and I spin to face the one at my back, slashing diagonally down, the moon steel of my blade slicing into the thick hide of his shoulder.

He bellows in pain, the sound making me bare my tusks in feral glee.

Then another closes in.

I lose myself in the heat of battle, the constant dodge and slice of one attacked by many. I become the center of the tornado, the spot in the middle that all activity whirls around. My blade is lightning, flashing brightly in the air with each strike.

Ogres are huge and tough and strong. No matter my superior training, four on one would be impossible.

But the leader hangs back, and one of the other gray beasts heads for my downed friend.

“Hurtle! A foe approaches!”

My yell startles the unicorn out of his daze. He shakes his head and clambers to his feet, his hindquarters still encased in the thinning orange fog.

“Get behind me!” He swings his head to bump Olivia’s shoulder with the side of his horn.

She comes forward to help him up, her hands braced against his side. Her sweet face twists into a grimace as she hovers for a second.

“Go!” I yell, blocking a blow so powerful it vibrates down my arms.

Thankfully, my bride listens and backs into the cloud of deathsleep.

Hurtle splays his feet to strengthen his stance, and I pray to the goddess the ogre can’t see how unsteady the deathsleep has made my friend.

I try to get to him and my bride, but the leader barks out orders, and the two I’m fighting make a wall in front of me.

Noises bounce between the tree trunks as metal meets metal, punctuated by the deeper thump of flesh on flesh.

Hurtle fights his own battle, swinging the sharp point of his horn in fearsome arcs that slowly backs his foe away from Olivia.

But the lead ogre edges around our spinning maelstrom, headed for my bride.

“No!” I battle towards her, slicing into an opponent hard enough to send black blood splattering across the pine needles covering the ground.

He falters, dropping his mace to clap both hands to his neck as his knees buckle. Yet it’s not enough. The other steps in, keeping me away from Olivia.

She stands in the middle of the deathsleep, but the constant breeze tears the orange haze into faint wisps.

He’s five times her size, but my moon bound doesn’t cower as the leader approaches her, standing her ground. I’ve never been prouder.

With a booming laugh, the ogre advances.

I cannot fail her.Willnot fail her. Olivia is more than my moon bound bride. Her sweet heart has already caught mine.

I love her.

“No!” The roar rips from my chest as he reaches into the last of the fog and pulls Olivia to him.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Olivia

Rovann fights like a man possessed, each move of his body writing a poem of power and lethal grace upon the air. The silver of his sword strikes in flashes of punctuation. Each block a comma promising more to come. Each slice a period of completed injury.

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