Page 9 of Bound to the Orc Warrior

My tracking magic has shaved some time off the trip, keeping us pointed along the straightest path, but the summons pulses in my chest, a constant demand that only grows more insistent the closer we get.

Like now. It pulls me onward, feeling so strong it’s as if it would rip my heart free and send it flying forward to get to her first.

My bride! I’ll have a moon bound bride!

I’ll finally have someone who truly belongs to me for the first time in my life.

The way lightens ahead, hinting at a break in the trees, and right as the sight makes me hope we’re close, the horrible high caws of an attacking sluagh fill the air.

A small group of them dart from the branches of a pine, arrowing straight for us.

Zephyr glides to a halt, her head whipping forward to spear one of the black birds on her spiraled horn. Its blood-red beak opens on one last screamed protest before the entire bird fades from view, the soul sucker’s victim finally freed to find peace.

My sword slides from the scabbard with the ring of pure metal, and I slice another bird in two in midair.

More raucous cries come from the clearing ahead. These are not all of the flock—the rest already attack my bride!

“Go!” Zephyr calls out. “I’ve got this.”

I do not doubt her. The unicorn is a fierce warrior.

As soon as I leave her back, she rears up, front hooves striking two birds from the air, creating an opening I charge through to reach the clearing holding the standing stone.

The tall pillar of gray granite dominates the open space, but I only have eyes for my bride.

Brown hair frames her head in a riot of curls my hands long to touch, and her lovely face has round cheeks that look ready to lift in a smile, plump lips, and the most beautiful brown eyes I’ve ever seen. She’s short and plump, with the most delicious buttocks and lovely breasts, all encased by a bright-pink dress that leaves the smooth light-brown skin of her shoulders and arms bare.

And vile sluagh are attacking all of that vulnerable skin.

“Get away from her!” The roar tears from me as I leap forward and strike a bird from the air, spinning immediately to take out another. I place myself between my moon bound and the rest of the birds. Over and over, I fight to keep the soul stealer from her.

If she’s like the other human women, she’s a witch brimming with magic, and the sluagh wants her desperately. I cannot allow it. Will not.

I touch her arm, ready to push her away from another of the sluagh’s attacks, and a pressure anchors in my chest, stronger even than the summons.

She says something I don’t understand, her voice a husky alto. There’s no time to hand her the crystal imbued with the power of the speaking stone, so whatever it is will have to wait.

The world wrenches sideways in a dizzying rush. Between one heartbeat and the next, I’m standing in the middle of a campsite, familiar leather tents pitched in the middle of a blue birch grove.

I’d been in front of her back at the standing stone, but now I stand behind her.

King Aldronn and the rest of his guard abandon their breakfasts to leap to their feet. “Wranth! What is this? How? Is this your bride?”

“She is,” I say.

She whirls to face me, her eyes going wide.

Quickly, I sheath my sword and pull out the speaking crystal, reaching toward her.

The flash of fear in her beautiful eyes pains me. She cries out.

The world spins again.

We stand in the village green of Moon Blade Village, in front of the pub. Even though we faced each other back at the campsite, my bride now stands with her back to me, as if our positions have reset. It’s odd—but is it any odder than her magic? For surely, that’s what this must be, a new power unlike anything seen in Alarria.

Orcs swarm out of the pub, the weaver’s, the potter’s, all of them calling out. “Wranth! You’re back!” “Look, it’s a new human!” “Someone should get Ashley so she can talk to her.”

“I can get her,” a unicorn says.

---