Page 13 of Bound to the Orc Renegade

And there it is again, that jolt of attention and admiration I already need from her as much as I need air.

“It’s nothing.” I shrug.

“It’s not nothing!” She bounces to her feet. “It’s awesome! Why would you think it’s nothing?”

“My sister, Gerna, is a great herbalist, which is greatly prized by my people. My father…” I swallow, hating to tarnish Taylor’s view of me so early. But I will not lie to my moon bound. I meet her eyes, ready to see the familiar disappointment dim their bright regard. “My father always makes it clear that ‘stealth’ isn’t a highly valued magic.”

Instead of the reaction I expect, she snorts. “Well, he’s wrong. There are lots of things stealth is great for! I bet you’re a fantastic hunter, for one.”

“I am.” But my village has several good hunters, like my friend Branikk, so I don’t stand out as the best. And being a hunter isn’t warlord, and therefore not good enough for Father.

“Show me again?” My bride turns her luminous brown eyes upon me, filled with admiration.

I feel like the parched land of the desert offered its first sight of rain. I can do nothing but as she asks.

That look from her is worth any price.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Taylor

I don’t like the look Krivoth gets on his face when he talks about his father. It’s the same look I see in the mirror every time I’ve faced major pushback on being a girl gamer. That feeling that you’re not good enough.

I always fight it off by going and kicking ass at a game, blowing away the guys’ high scores or best times and making them eat their words.

Krivoth hasn’t had access to games, though. But he shouldn’t need it. He was amazing when he fought that ogre. He’s got serious skills. So why doesn’t he realize it? Why doesn’t hisfatherrealize it?

I have a sneaking suspicion I’m gonna give Krivoth’s dad a smack down—even if verbally—and I sure don’t hate the thought.

The look Idolike is the one Krivoth gets every time I tell him he’s great. His dark eyes fill with a mixture of shock and awe, and he looks at me like he’s a little kid and I’m every Christmas present he ever wanted, all rolled up into one.

I’ve never had a guy look at me like that. It’s effing awesome and sends my heart skipping.

Once he shakes off his initial shock, he does as I ask and slips into the trees again.

I stand completely still and strain as hard as I can, hoping to hear any sign of where he went. A soft breeze whooshes through the branches, a bird sings, happy and bright, and something rustles to my left.

Spinning, I open my mouth to say “ah ha!” But it’s not Krivoth. It’s a squirrel.

A laugh bubbles up. God, Taylor, an amused voice whispers in my head, only you could get this excited about a squirrel!

Krivoth steps back into view, appearing from between two of the pine trees as if by magic.

I chuckle again. Itismagic! This whole world is magic!

“What’s funny?” He scowls, so quick to see himself as the butt of every joke. I hate it. I hate that he can’t see my joy as something good instead of as something turned against him.

“I’m happy,” I say hastily, thankful when his expression eases. “I like it here.” Magic fills what had been hollow inside me, so right I wonder how I ever lived without it.

But not everything about magic is kittens and rainbows. I glance over at Storm.

The unicorn continues to breathe even and deep. As a Mage in Warcraft, I’ve cast my fair share of sleep spells to knock out an enemy, but they’re always really short. The thought of oneworking for an entire century feels horrible and cruel. Such a spell would rip you from your life, remove you from everyone you know and love. You’d wake alone in a new world.

If you woke at all. You can’t exactly defend yourself while sleeping.

“Are we close to where the violet trifolia grows?” I ask. “Could we get some for Storm if we had to?”

“No.” Krivoth shakes his head. “It grows in only one place, and we’re several weeks away if forced to walk instead of ride.”

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