Page 67 of Summoning the Orc

It was a terrible plan. I’d come up with it after Tasia and I had visited every magical practitioner in the area. We’d been met with shrugs and doors closed in our faces.

Opening a portal was tricky and requiredvastamounts of magic. Not just anyone could perform the necessary spells, it seemed, and almost no one was willing to attempt it.

The last witch had waved us out of her home, crossing her fingers in a complicated gesture before spitting in front of us and saying, “The last witch who opened a portal on this plane was taken. Shoo.”

While I was getting used to the rejection, I knew that I hadn’t tried the library yet. There had to be a magical tome that could take me to him. I was sure of it. I just had to find it.

“That’s aterribleidea,” Pen insisted, shaking her head and turning to look at Dristan, who was seated in the armchair.

His eyebrow quirked as he considered. “Well, it isn’tthe worstidea,” he drawled, but Pen rolled her eyes, turning back to me to take my hands in hers.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s an idiot,” she said, and Dristan grunted his disagreement from his seat

“I don’t think it’s a terrible idea to at least do the research—” he started arguing, when I felt the flutter of a breeze in the room. Canting my head to the side, I looked around, but there weren’t any windows open.

“Do you—” I started, but gaped as a swirling light started forming in the middle of the room. A swirling light that was so similar to the way Rok had appeared the first time that I gasped, hope filling me to the brim.

I took one shaky step forward, reaching my hand out to where I could see something starting to form. I skidded to a halt as I realized that the form was decidedlyfemaleand it was moving backward—ass-first. As the form solidified, I saw the curvaceous woman back out of the portal, her arms still outstretched inside.

“Oof,” the female grunted, turning as another form flew out of the portal, landing on his back next to her.

An orc.

I gasped, running closer, reaching out for only a second before yanking my arm back again.

Notmyorc.

Another orc landed in a pile on top of the first one that had come through. I leaned forward, hope brimming inside me only to be dashed again. And then a third time when athirdmale orc landed onto the others.

It’s raining orcs, but none of them are mine.

“One… last…” the female was sounding out, her features strained as she kept the portal open with her hands.

One final orc flew through the portal before she pulled away, the portal slamming shut behind her. I stared at the final orc in shock.

Rok.

With a cry, I ran forward. He was on top of the pile, all three orcs under him making sounds of distress—and I could understand why. My male washuge. He was almost to my eye-level, being so high up, and I cupped his cheeks, but Rok didn’t respond.

“Holy shit,” Pen gasped, “he came back!”

“And he brought friends,” Dristan added in a grumpy voice.

“Hush,” Pen hissed at him, hurrying over to help the female as she stood, swaying on her feet. “Hi, let me help you sit.”

While she helped the female move to one of the sofas, the males under Rok eased him to the floor, getting to their feet. They looked around, shock in their gazes, but my eyes were fully focused on my mate.

“Rok, please wake up,” I whispered, cupping his cheeks. There was a singe mark on his chest and blood covered him. “I-Is he bleeding?” I gasped, and one of the males shook his head, kneeling next to me in front of Rok.

He spoke in Orcish, his voice shaking as he spoke to the female who’d brought my mate through the portal. Dristan’s browfurrowed as he translated. “He asked her to help heal him. They hit him with magic before they arrived and Rok protected them.”

The witch nodded, her brow furrowed as she moved from the sofa toward us, kneeling along with us. The male orc made room for her, ensuring she had space to work, but even while I told myself I needed to move, I couldn’t. My legs were unable to shuffle away from this male. This male who’d made a promise to me that he would return, and he had.

He’d been hurt protecting others, because that’s just the kind of male he was. There was no way I would survive losing him. Tears leaked down my face as I pressed my forehead against his.

“Yes,” Zara said, shocking me by speaking in Common and patting my back, “Keep him with us. You’re exactly what he needs right now. Call to him with your bond. It’s what brought us to you in the first place.”

I had no idea what she was talking about, but I tried to open all my senses—open myself up to the connection that was almost palpable between us. Behind me, near his chest, she murmured words that I didn’t understand.

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