Page 7 of Bound to the Orc Ranger

My bride calls out, her voice high and sweet even when laced with agitation. The thought of her distress cuts through my bloodlust, sharper than any sword. I will not lose her good regard, not over the likes of him.

“Go,” I bark at the ogre, spinning us until his back is no longer blocked by the stone. “I will not warn you again.”

The ogre steps backward and pauses as soon as my blade leaves his neck.

I brace, lifting my dagger into a defensive position. This is when he’ll attack if he’s foolish enough to do so.

His eyes narrow in on the silver gleam of my moon steel blade, its edge already blackened with his blood. After several tense seconds, he whirls and disappears between the blue birch trees.

“I’ve checked the whole area. There aren’t any other ogres in the vicinity,” Hurtle says from the tree line, clacking his horn against a trunk to make his threat clear. “I’ll make sure he leaves.”

“Thank you.” The Moon Goddess brought unicorns to Alarria only a year or two after my orc ancestors. He’s a trusted friend and a fierce fighter.

I quickly wipe both daggers clean on the grass and sheath them, repeating the motions with my sword. My injured shoulder throbs, blood pulsing out with every beat of my heart, but I can move that arm again.

Which is good, because I need it for something truly important.

I tip my head back and meet my bride’s eyes. “Jump. I will catch you.”

She doesn’t move.

“Jump.” I hold out my arms and make a come-hither gesture. When she still hesitates, I speak again. I know she won’t understand me yet, but I hope her heart will know my truth. “I, Rovann, promise to protect you unto my dying days, for you are my moon bound bride, whom the goddess has deemed my mate and match.”

I offer my arms again.

CHAPTER FIVE

Olivia

Words pour from the orc. And, yeah, I’m going to call him an orc, because what else can he be? I still don’t understand a single syllable, but the sincerity in his tone tugs at me.

Besides, it’s not as if I have a lot of choice. I can’t get down by myself, and I sure as hell don’t want to wait around for the gray guy to come back.

The easy violence of their fight terrified me. I watched movies with things like that, but I always knew it was make believe. This had been real. The sounds, the blood, the anger clouding the air like a deadly fog.

Yet a strange thrill filled me as I watched them fight, one I didn’t really want to inspect too closely. The orc fought forme, was ready to kill forme. What did it say about me that I kind of liked it? The thought is scary and shocking, and my heart still hammers.

I meet his eyes, focusing on them instead of the ground, and give a quick nod.

Standing, I consider my options. I can’t swan dive or jump feet first—how can he catch me like that? I need to fall outward, like the world’s biggest belly flop, so I’ll be horizontal in the air.

I lift my arms, holding them out in front of me like Superman getting ready to take off, and hope like hell the orc understands what I’m about to do.

He speaks again, his deep voice filled with encouragement.

It pulls me forward to the rock’s edge, my toes flexing in my sneakers as they feel nothing below them. This is it. I pant, my heart speeding, and let myself tip forward with only the tiniest of jumps.

A scream tears from me as air whooshes past, the ground rising unbelievably fast.

Two bands of warm steel catch me, and the orc grunts even as I give a sob of relief. He clutches me to his chest, and my body curls instinctively into the solid strength of him, my face buried in his shoulder, breathing in the scent of male and leather and pine.

When the adrenaline recedes enough that I stop trembling, I look up at him and pour all my sincerity into my voice. “Thank you. Just… thank you. You saved my life.”

I would have died on that stone in the hands of that monster, I have no doubt. And worse—those beady dark eyes had promised far worse.

The orc bends forward to set me on my feet, a grimace tightening his face as his arms move. His shoulder!

“Oh, god.” I’d seen him get hit, but I hadn’t really noticed. Blood streaks the green fabric of his shirt, leaking from three puncture holes. My hand flies up to hover over the area. “We need to fix this!”

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