Page 63 of Bound to the Orc Warrior

“Yep.” She grins and sweeps an arm out, taking in the village.

I look around, and it’s true—all of the orcs, no matter their gender, are a handsome people.

“Maybe it’s because they’re fae,” she says. “All the old family stories my grandmother used to tell always said the fae are beautiful.”

“The books all say so, too,” I agree. In fiction, the fae are always beautiful or terrible, or so beautiful it’s terrible for a human to see, because they’ll become hopelessly obsessed.

“Aren’t most of those written about elves? That dead white dude sure got orcs completely wrong.”

“Thank god,” I say, looking up at Wranth’s handsome features and flowing black hair. “Tolkien can suck it.”

Olivia stands and calls out, “Who’s ready for pizza?”

“Pizza!” A high shriek warbles over the answers from the villagers, and a group of pixies flies in from the right.

“No!” Another piercing yell rings out as an even larger flock flies in from the left. “Pizza is ours!”

The smaller group comes to a halt right in front of me, the pixie I talked to yesterday in the lead. She looks the same, except…

I squint. Oh, god, are they all wearing myunderwear?

They are! I slap a hand over my mouth as a laugh bursts from me. Little sashes and bandanas of bright pink wrap their foreheads or chests. Every member of the flock has some bit of the warmer color mixed into their overall blue.

She jabs a tiny finger at me. “This one promised us pizza!”

“Ha, she couldn’t have!” The other pixies swarm around Olivia, and a tiny female clinging to a lock of Olivia’s hair does the speaking for them. “This human is Pizza, not yours.”

“They call you ‘Pizza’?” I shoot a questioning glance at Olivia, lifting one eyebrow.

She grins and shrugs. “They consider it my honorary title.”

“Well,ourhuman is going to take us to Pizza World!” my pixie shrieks.

Olivia mouths “Pizza World” at me, and it’s my turn to give a sheepish shrug.

“No!” The tiny fae launches off Olivia, arrowing through the air, a miniature sword in hand. Her flock follows, brandishing weapons. “You don’t get to have more pizza than us!We’rethe pizza pixies!”

The pink-adorned flock bristles, needle glints of silver flashing in the air as they draw their blades.

The two groups clash in midair in a flurry of wings and weapons. Bloody lines appear on faces and arms. Their mouths widen, showing off sharp teeth that add bite marks to the injuries.

“Oh, shit,” I breathe. They might be small, but Wranth is right. They’re still fae and fierce.

“Halt!” Dravarr bellows, his deep voice rolling through the air like thunder.

The whirling maelstrom of glowing blue freezes in place.

“This is my village,” he growls, “and you willnotdo this here.”

“How about you don’t do it, period?” Ashley says. “Olivia can make plenty of pizzas. There’s enough for all.”

The leader of my group of pixies flies over. “We can have pizzanow?”

“Only if you stop fighting,” Olivia says.

“What about this Pizza World?” the other pixie leader asks.

“Same deal,” I say. “You can go if you stop fighting.”

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