Page 65 of Bound to the Orc Warrior

This is a happy rendition of the song, the pace a little quicker, their voices playful. But I remember the version of the ballad Sturrm sang for years, his voice full of longing, haunted by the ghost of lost love.

My arm snakes around Naomi’s waist, and I pull her close. She looks up at me, delight shining in her eyes as she enjoys the music. Goddess, I want this happy version for myself, my moon bound bride always by my side.

Tonight has been a glimpse of what it would be like to live here in this village, embraced by the community. I’ve always hovered on the edges of such camaraderie, observing it without feeling its full force. I’ve also always blamed my outsider statuson being orphaned, but now realize some of it was also me—I held myself apart, assuming I wasn’t wanted.

If I didn’t try, I couldn’t be rejected.

Naomi makes me want to try.

So when the duet finishes, I raise my tankard and cheer loudest of all.

The next morning, pounding on the front door makes me roll out of bed far earlier than I want to.

Naomi spreads into the warm spot I left in the furs, reaching her arms and legs out in a full-body stretch. She offers me a satisfied smile that makes me want to climb right back into bed and between her plump thighs. I spent hours there the night before, licking her until her voice went hoarse from screaming my name.

The knock comes again.

I bare my tusks in a snarl and yank on my leather pants, fastening them as I cross the main room. My chest tingles as I reach the very edge of the tether. If I’m not careful, I’ll be yanked back into the bedroom. I yell toward the front door. “Come in!”

It swings open, and Selena stands holding a human cup and a leather food sack. She calls out, “I’ve brought you a caramel latte!”

“Oh, you’re the best!” Naomi hurries into the room, wearing my shirt as a dress, and reaches past me to take the drink.

My nose wrinkles as I catch a whiff of the bitter beverage, but my moon bound hums happily as she takes a sip.

“Ashley arranged time with Reta, the village weaver, this morning. So we can go and get you your own clothes.”

“A bra?” Naomi asks, her tone hopeful.

“Yes, bras and panties, too!” She lifts the sack. “Do you like donuts? Olivia made some!”

“Gimme.” Naomi snatches the bag and peeks inside, then looks up at me, her big brown eyes serious as she clutches the sack to her chest. “What are you having for breakfast? These are mine.”

“I will make por—”

She breaks into laughter. “I’m kidding! There’s plenty.”

After getting dressed, we eat standing at the kitchen counter, scattering powdered sugar across the honey-colored wood like the first dusting of winter snow. It’s nice. It feels like something an established couple would do, having a quick breakfast together before they start their day.

Selena joins us for a donut, and we demolish the entire sack. The confections are sweet, as so many human things are, and contain no meat, but my bride eats hers with such relish I voice not a single protest.

“See you, Wranth.” Selena hooks her arm through Naomi’s. “We’ll be back in an hour or two.”

“You’re not leaving me behind.”

Selena glances at Naomi and hooks a thumb toward me. “Ay! Did you score a guy who likes clothing shopping?”

“It’s the tether,” Naomi explains.

“Oh, right.”

I follow them to the village green and wait outside as they go into the weavers, leaning back against the heart tree cottage’s outer wall.

“Well, orc.” Shadow’s smile hangs in the air beside me, and the rest of his body appears around it. “Have you taken it upon yourself to hold up this fine tree?”

His jab deserves no answer.

“I, on the other hand, have been doing something useful this morning,” he says, eyes sparkling with amusement. “I comebearing news. The cat sith messengers have returned. Your king will arrive tomorrow, as will Sheevora the Magnificent.”

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