Page 49 of Bound to the Orc Warlord

The rain begins in earnest, falling across the landscape in windswept sheets of gray. It soaks my hair, my dress, plastering both to my skin.

I don’t even care, because the last of the trees slip past. The edge of the grasslands opens wide in front of the rock formation, showing Midnight and Dravarr.

And the stomach-churning reality of another sluagh.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Dravarr

Ashley flies down over the plains, the dragon by her side. They level off a few feet above the ground and turn to head straight toward us.

I fight against the draining lethargy of the sluagh feeding on my soul, even as it steals across my body, wrapping me in a spider’s cocoon of deadened senses.

Rain splatters my face, stinging my eyes and adding to the confusion of the swarming birds assaulting me. Another such cloud of vermin follows her, but she must be flying too quickly, for they do not appear to attack.

She waves a hand, brandishing a black mass of feathers. “Grab one of them!”

I skewer one of the birds on my sword and reach to pull its body free. Yet it dissolves even as my fingers close around it. The rest of the flock caws a chorus of raucous protests.

“No!” She zips closers on her broomstick, her face pale when surrounded by rain-darkened hair. Dark red splotches of injury dot her arm, far larger than any freckle.

Rage wells within me, hot and fierce, pushing back some of the sluagh’s soul-stealing daze.

“Don’t kill it!” she yells. “Grabit!”

What?

The oddity of the situation snaps into focus as I realize the cloud of sluagh surrounding her hangs in the air, strangely quiet and docile.

Trusting her, I drop my sword and lunge to wrap my hands around one of the birds.

The fullness of my life force slams back into my body, kicking my heart into a racing thump that speaks of victory.

In added benefit, the rest of the flock falls silent.

The bird I hold struggles, twisting its squirming body this way and that as its beak jabs gashes into my hands. A feral grin stretches my cheeks as I slide one hand higher to immobilize the head.

Ashley comes to a stop in front of me, and I catch her eye.

“By the goddess, you’re a gift.” Pride wells in my chest. Bynotstriking to kill, my amazing bride has found an answer to the sluagh! Her sweet nature has saved us. “No one’s ever found a way to stop the soul stealers.”

“Interesting.” Midnight trots over to poke the bird I hold with her horn. “It seems hands can actually be useful.”

I grunt. Even her teasing can’t put me in a bad mood.

Drake swoops through the flock hanging behind Ashley, all four of his feet extended, ready to snatch. But they scatter before him and reform twenty feet overhead.

He banks against the wind and shoots up into the rain-filled sky, arrowing toward them. Flame shoots from his mouth, undiminished by the rain. It incinerates one bird to ash, but the others dart even farther away.

“I guess they’re not completely docile,” I growl. “Too bad.”

My moon bound turns questioning eyes on me.

“The only way to kill a sluagh is to destroy every single one of its parts.” I gesture toward the flock eluding the dragon. “And they’re still just as difficult to catch as always.”

I maneuver the bird I hold into one hand and use the other to dig an empty food sack out of a saddlebag. After shoving the bird inside, I cinch it tight and tie it to my sword belt. Then I find another bag and help my moon bound confine her piece of sluagh in it.

She floats up next to my shoulder and leans sideways to press her wet cheek to the damp cloth in a spot of warmth. “Thank you.”

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