Page 50 of Bound to the Orc Renegade

The cat drops to the ground, her outline growing insubstantial.

I jab my hand forward, and power pulses out of me in a wave. It punches the kelpie’s raised body directly in the chest. It goes flying backward to hit the ground with a loud crunch.

A whoop slips from my lips. “Take that, you scary assholes!”

Then a pained gasp comes from behind me.

I whirl around to see Krivoth with an axe buried in his thigh.

Two snarling ogres face him, one raising a nasty spiked mace overhead, ready to crush Krivoth’s skull.

My heart leaps into my throat.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Krivoth

The two ogres pound at me mercilessly, one striking after the other until all I can do is block and block again without being able to counterattack. Their goal is clear—they wish to wear me down before moving in for the easy kill.

Unfortunately, it’s not a bad plan.

My muscles burn with every movement, my chest rising and falling like a bellows as I try to suck in enough air. Yet my warrior discipline does not fail me. I hold my form and keep the two larger and stronger opponents off me, the flash of my moon steel sword pure and true.

Then Taylor’s anguished cry of “No!” echoes through the clearing and across my nerves, jerking me around.

I can’t even see her past a solid wall of kelpie. My moon bound! My bride!

Pain bites into my thigh, spinning me to face my foes right when a huge thunderclap sounds behind me.

My sword flashes, slicing over the throat of the ogre holding the battleaxe. She lets go of the haft to slap her hands over her throat instead of yanking the axe head out of my leg. Leaving it lodged in the wound not only disarms her, it also keeps my injury from bleeding profusely and weakening me further.

Another loud slap of sound from behind me makes me try to turn, and I put too much weight on my injured leg.

Pain, so white hot it’s blinding, sizzles through me, locking my muscles. I gasp. By the time my sight clears, long seconds have passed, an eternity in a fight.

The ogre from the standing stone leers at me, his mace raised overhead. “Your pretty little human’s mine now, orc. I’m going to—”

The remainder of his words become inaudible as another crack of thunder lifts all three of us off our feet and sends us flying.

“Krivoth, please,” Taylor sobs as I swim up from darkness. “Please. I’m sorry.”

Something jerks at one of my legs with a feeling of pressure. Then soft hands pat at my chest, my face, reminding me I have a body. It roars to life only seconds later, screaming a litany of pain.

I groan, and crack my eyes open to find Taylor leaning over me, the messy pouf of her hair haloed by the bright blue sky above.

“Oh, thank god,” her voice breaks, her face crumbling into fresh crying.

“You used your magic,” I say. I’m flat on my back, and the trees cutting across the sky to my right make it clear how far she threw me.

“I’m so, so sorry. There wasn’t any time to do anything else.”

“What did I tell you?” My hand’s heavy, but I force it up so I can brush my fingers over her cheek, wiping away her tears. “I don’t mind when you knock me off my feet.”

She makes a hiccupping sound, half laugh, half sob.

“Though it usually comes with the added benefit of you on top of me,” I say.

“We can arrange that.” Taylor offers me a watery smile and presses her hand over mine, holding it to her face.

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