Page 15 of Bound to the Orc Warlord

His huge hand slides across my back to rest at my side. Then he eases me backward, off his lap so he can dismount. This time when he lifts me down, it’s as easy as it’s ever been, as if I still weigh nothing. But my hands rest on his shoulders, feeling the flex and bunch of his muscles—he’s simply that strong.

My feet settle onto soft moss, and our height difference becomes apparent for the first time. Dravarrtowersover me. I’m only five and a half feet tall, but even around tall guys, I’d always thought that expression was exaggeration.

It’s not with Dravarr. He’s the tallest person I’ve ever seen, and those shoulders I’ve been clinging to block out the sky, they’re so wide. It’s all muscle, and I’m not, but I also feel like my size might be “just right” with someone as big as him, as if I’m Goldilocks picking my own personal orc. Or is he Goldilocks in this situation, and I’m the bowl of porridge he’s going to eat up?

The heat in his eyes as he touched my inner thighs flashes through me, and I glance up to see a similar look on his face now.

The unicorn tosses its head and stamps an impatient foot at the ground.

Dravarr spins from me to remove the saddlebags, but leaves the saddle in place. He talks to the animal as he works, his voice too deep to be a true whisper.

We’re in a small clearing ringed with the blue trees with curly ribbon bark. Evening fell while I slept, the light dropping to a gentle twilight that darkens under the leaf-covered branches. Tiny blue lights flit among the trunks. Now that I no longer have Dravarr’s body to warm me, I can feel how much the temperature dropped with sunset, and I’m glad of the clothes he loaned me.

The unicorn trots away, its black shape disappearing between the trees with the crunch of hooves on dried leaves.

Dravarr hands me a waterskin and the magical cleaning cloth and points into the trees, and god, how did he know I had to pee? Thank god I didn’t have to figure out how to do it while weightless. I hurry away from him, my sneakers moving easily over the soft moss.

By the time I return to the clearing, he’s set up a tent and cleared a space for a small fire with a pyramid of twigs already placed and ready to be lit. He hands me a knife and points to the ground, grunting a few words.

“I’ll stay right here.” I nod vigorously to show I understand, hoping a nod means the same thing to him.

Quieter than a guy that big should be able to step, he disappears into the trees.

I settle onto the soft moss. A few last birds chirp and rustle leaves as they settle in for the night, but otherwise it’s quiet such as I’ve never known. I’m used to the constant noise of the city, engines and horns and voices and music—like the song says, NYC never sleeps.

One of the blue dots swoops out from behind a tree to hang in front of my face. A fairy! Everything about her glows light blue, from her skin to her hair to her butterfly wings. She’s either a pixie or a sprite—I’m not sure which—but the last fantasy book I read had pixies, so I’m going with that.

“Hello.”

She speaks in a series of fast, fluting notes, like a song sped to triple speed. Then her voice slows enough to say one distinct word. “Pizza.”

“Pizza?” I’m in a different world where no one speaks English, but this pixie knows pizza?

Her nod’s so vigorous it shakes her entire body.

I make a show of patting my clothes, then hold out my empty hands and shake my head. “Sorry, no pizza.”

She darts down to hover over my hands, taps one of my palms, and says, “Pizza!”

“Wish I could,” I say. There’s this place on Twelfth, a little hole in the wall that sells by the slice, but I swear it’s the best pizza in the city, and the line that always wraps around the block proves I’m not alone. My stomach growls, imagining my favorite mushroom and black olive slice on a crust thin enough to fold.

The pixie’s tiny face breaks into a scowl that competes with Dravarr for the prize of “most grumpy,” and she gives me a stern talking to, her voice a high, angry whistle as her little finger jabs at the air. Then she darts back into the trees, still complaining, and a group of other pixies come out of hiding to surround her before they all shoot me one last disgusted look and fly off.

“Note to self: when portaling to other worlds, bring pizza.” Then a laugh bursts from me. A pixie just scolded me for not having pizza! Everything here’s so weird, but also amazing! Especially when I consider the alternative—whatever freaking Nick Caprio had wanted to do to me.

A soft sound from behind has me snatch up the knife and spin. I have no idea how to use it to defend myself, but maybe whoever it is won’t know that.

A shape steps into the clearing from under the darker cover of the trees, and the last of the day’s light shows me Dravarr’s strong green face.

I sigh and relax back down onto the ground.

He hands me an already skinned rabbit on an improvised skewer and crouches to start the fire with a piece of crystal. Orange flashes from it, and a rush of magic tingles over me. I watch him instead of looking at the animal, feeling more like a city girl than ever. I eat meat, but usually it’s so processed I don’t have to think about where it comes from.

He retrieves the rabbit and rubs herbs and salt into the skin before holding it over the fire, turning the stick with precisemotions to distribute the heat. His focus allows me to stare, which is good because I can’t tear my eyes from him. Pieces of long black hair have slipped from his braid, falling forward to frame his face. The smell of cooked meat fills the air, and he licks at his tusks, the movement speaking of unabashed hunger.

When the rabbit’s done, he tears off a leg and hands it to me. The crispy cooked surface crackles under my teeth, parting to yield moist meat. I moan and take a bigger bite. He’s saving me yet again—I’d starve without him.

Dravarr grunts with approval and digs in, his tusks ripping free strips of meat that disappear in big gulps. He’s so alive, so vital, from the intensity of his gaze, to the strength of his jaw, to the promise of power coiled in his muscles.

---