Page 66 of Bound to the Orc Warlord

True to his word, he arrows up into the bright blue sky, scattering a flock of sluagh. In only moments, he disappears, the branches of trees blocking the sightline ahead.

I stare after the spot where he disappeared, and Dravarr grips my shoulder. “The youngling will be fine. We’re on orc lands now.”

“Good,” I say.

So why do I feel so uneasy?

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Dravarr

When we reach the clearing with the cleaning stone, Drake stands on top of the twenty-foot tall pillar of granite, flapping his wings and calling out, “They’re here! They’re here!”

Instead of the lone guard I asked for, a group awaits us, my mother, my brother, Olivia, and Hurtle.

The white unicorn snorts a grumpy hello to Midnight as I slide from her back.

“What are you doing here?” I reach up to lift Ashley down, scowling over my shoulder.

“Well, hello to you, too, brother.” Rovann grins. “You didn’t think we’d miss your return with your br—” He breaks off at my glare, swallowing the rest of the word.

“I’m Olivia!” His bride pushes forward, one tan hand extended in a human greeting.

“Oh, my god!” Ashley darts toward the other woman, ignoring the hand to wrap her in a hug.

Now that I see them together, they look nothing alike but for their rounded ears. Olivia’s taller and thinner, her skin an even tan instead of pink dusted with freckles. The difference in their hair goes beyond color, the texture of Ashley’s curlier. Humans, it seems, have a lot more variance than orcs, with our green skin and straight black hair.

“I’m Ashley. I’m a witch, and you’re one, too!” Her voice races, her words tripping over each other in her excitement. “Dravarr told me all about how you conjure food.”

“I never thought of it that way, but I guess you’re right.” Olivia grins. “I’m a witch.”

“Give all of us a chance to meet her.” Mother elbows in to pull Ashley into a hug. “Welcome to Moon Blade Clan.”

Rovann slaps me on the back, then takes his turn welcoming my bride.

Mother pulls me into a hug. “She’s lovely,” she whispers. “I’m happy for you, my son.”

“I’m a lucky man.”

Then Mother pushes me away, the jovial expression falling from her face. She’s deadly serious as she jabs a finger at the two flocks of sluagh hanging over our heads, her tone ringing with all the command of her long years as clan warlord. “Explain. Now.”

I retrieve the bird sacks hanging from Midnight’s saddle, and we launch into our tale.

A half hour later, we finally wind down. We’re all seated on the soft moss in front of the stone, devouring pastries Olivia conjured. Hurtle and Midnight both eat oats, while Drakonisrevener enjoys a raw steak of beef.

Ashley licks pastry sugar from her fingers and sips at the bitter brew humans love so much. “God, I missed coffee.”

The orcs all have tea. It’s also a human drink, but one that’s far more palatable.

“So we finally know a way to subdue the sluagh,” Mother says. “That’s wonderful, but what do wedowith them? We can’t have them in the village.”

“We could set up a permanent guard post on the edge of our lands,” I say. “Rotate guard duty among the various clans.”

“Maybe,” Rovann says. “King Aldronn would need to approve it.”

“He’s a reasonable man,” I say.

“The unicorns won’t allow it on their borders,” Midnight says.

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