Page 3 of Bound to the Orc Guardian

Yet he shows the truth of it. Orcs are wild creatures, meant to hunt and fight fiercely.

And love. My heart aches, the feeling familiar after two decades yet still painful. Oh, yes, we love most fiercely of all.

Wranth’s gaze turns assessing. “King Aldronn wanted someone here in Moon Blade Village, and he chose you.”

My oath keeps me from confirming, yet I also don’t deny his words. I will not lie.

The fire leaves my friend’s eyes. “Does he not realize how painful it is for you to be back here?”

My heart twangs again. Moon Blade Village is the home I left at sixteen, the home I left right after Bruna died.

“It doesn’t matter.” I shove away the pain and take a deep drink, the ale rich on my tongue. King Aldronn wants someone here in the village because the Moon Goddess has given my clan mates four moon bound brides. Each of these human witches offers a special magical power that aids our quest to keep our people safe from our enemies. Whatever the goddess is up to, Moon Blade Village rests at the very heart of it. I offer my friend what truth I can. “With so much happening here, the king wanted more strong fighters to help Dravarr.”

“Only now he’s sending you off on a quest. And he’s assignedmeto the village while you’re gone.”

“It’s a temporary posting.” I clap him on the shoulder and wave my hand to take in the pub and everyone around us. It’s been good to spend each evening here, playing andsinging for my clan mates. It’s made it easier to fit into this place it still hurts to think of as home. “And you have to admit staying in one place for a while makes a nice change from the constant travel.”

The brawl on the other side of the room finishes, the crowd yelling approval for the victor as she reaches down to offer a hand to the orc on the floor. He grins up at her and takes it. Then they both head to the bar, their disagreement settled. Brawling is an honored tradition among orcs. As long as the old ways hold true and no blades are drawn, a good punch-up provides a way to settle issues before they get bigger.

Dravarr, the clan’s warlord, stops by my table on the way back to his. He claps me on the shoulder. “Good singing.”

I grunt my thanks.

“That song’s so beautiful,” Ashley says. Short, plump, and pretty, she’s got a mass of fiery red curls and light skin dusted with little brown dots. She radiates joy with a force you can feel.

Dravarr gazes down at his wife with a look of adoration I never expected to see on his usually scowling face.

She says, “It always makes me cry.”

“You will stop singing it.” Dravarr’s expression shifts into the expected scowl as he eyes me.

I bristle, anger flaring through me. My fists curl. There’s no way I’ll stop playing that song, not even at his order. He might be warlord and a decade younger than me, but I’ll fight him, and for this, I will win.

His gaze softens as it returns to her. “I don’t want you to cry.”

“Not all crying is bad.” She offers him a soft smile. “And don’t you dare make him stop singing my favorite song. What’s it called, again? We didn’t have it on Earth.”

“It’s calledUnder the Apple Tree.” My muscles relax. “And thank you. I’m glad you like it.” It was Bruna’s favorite as well, and I always play it in her memory.

They move off to their table, full of couples made up of human women and the orcs who’ve been blessed with them as their moon bound brides.

Wranth snorts. “Goddess, they’re all so disgustingly happy.”

I grunt in agreement. There are happy couples everywhere, but the goddess-matched pairs make my heart ache with loss.

“They’re never going to accept me.” Wranth, if anything, is even more taciturn than me. Our friendship began because we were the two in the guard who didn’t quite fit in, and over the years, it’s grown into a bond strong and true.

I reach across the table to grip his shoulder. He won’t have music as a way to break the ice with my clan mates. “Go hunting with Branikk and the others, then celebrate your wins here at the pub. Put meat in their bellies, and they’ll toast you soon enough.”

His mouth quirks at one corner, showing off his left tusk.

“Moon Blade Village is a good place.” The words feel like knives slicing my throat, but I choke them out because they’re true, and I don’t want my history to sour my friend’s time here. “They’re good people, and Dravarr’s a fine warlord. Nothing that happened all those years ago has anything to do with them.”

My heart clenches with old, familiar pain. The blame is all mine. I’m the only one who was with Bruna on that fateful day.

I’m the one who couldn’t save her.

As I stride across the open area of the village green the next morning, my clan mates wave and call out good wishes for my trip.

---