Page 1 of One Forbidden Night with Her Orc Boss

Prologue

Ahundred years ago, there was a monster migration, many went west, but a few felt the call of the wild northeast and headed to the cozy, quaint island of Wolf’s Ridge, named after the formidable mountains on the island, and founded the town of Moonfang Haven. Perhaps the island felt reminiscent of simpler, more magical times—lush, deep forests, craggy cliffs, a glittering unspoilt ocean teeming with life, and a protected valley perfect for a town. Or perhaps the blazing western sun wasn’t something the Cragbeard, Suthorn, Fangst, Havet families and others were interested in.

I was here when they arrived. Watched as they set up a new life for themselves, amongst the small human population already carving out a living, mostly by fishing, on my beloved island. They’ve integrated peacefully, minus a few hiccups. I think the wild goats of the mountains still resent the surprisingly nimble orcs invading their mountain.

Don’t worry, magic still exists, though it’s been diminished over time. My granny told me the formula once...time multiplied by disbelief divided by the square root of love...maybe? I don’t remember. Math was never my strong suit.

Who am I? My story is of less importance right now, but I will say I was banished to Wolf’s Ridge a long time ago. My magic has been reduced mostly to simple potions. One day, I’ll have my comeback tour and everyone will remember my name. But until then, I’ll be mixing macchiatos at Moonlit Grounds Café and Bakery.

Chapter 1

Brann

First ride around theisland this year, bike rumbling between my thighs, is a glorious, freeing feeling. And a great way to shake off the image of the woman from the coffee shop earlier. I hate the way I was pulled toward her, like my feet didn’t belong to me. It’s the type of feeling people say when they tell stories of meeting their fated mate. What a load of malarky. I don’t believe in fated mates, unlike the rest of Moonfang Haven. And children are nowhere on my list of things I want in my life. Gross.

Passing the trailhead for one of my favorite hikes, I turn the bike around and head back. Judging by the late afternoon sun, my timing is almost perfect. If I’m fast, I can make it to the top by sunset. A no-brainer decision. One other car in the parking lot. Perfect. I’m in no mood for chit-chat or tourists.

Heart thumping from sprinting straight up the trail, I’m sweaty and exhilarated. That on-top-of-the-world idea is literally me right now. And I’m cheesy enough to own it, at least on the inside, as I breathe deep. There’s an intoxicating scent in the air; I try as hard as possible to ignore it.

Rocks crunch behind me, pulling me from my reverie as I take in the scene of our small-town harbor below, bathed in the last vestiges of golden light. Apparently, I was so caught up in myself, I didn’t hear or sense anyone else around.

Turning is the wrong move.

So wrong.

Upon seeing the other person, I spin back to the scenery.

Gods damn it.

“Hello, pretty view, isn’t it?” Her voice is hesitant, but even still, an entrancing melody. I grunt a nod without looking at her. “I’ve never seen a sunset like this. I’m just blown away by how gorgeous this place is.” There’s something about the breathlessness of her voice that pulls my eyes back to her. “I don’t mean to ramble. I’m just so excited that I’m here; this place is like a dream.” That funniness in my chest is back from earlier today, one that threatens to overpower me. She steps closer to where I am. Heatwaves radiate off her, enveloping me in her fire.

“I am very lucky to live here.”Neutral, I tell myself.Steady and neutral.I maintain neutrality to avoid all the things in life I dislike. Mainly—neediness and children. The sunset of pinks and oranges is nothing compared to her.Walk away. Turn around. Move, you big oaf.

My body betrays me in every way. I can’t look away from her. My eyes drink her in like she’s water after an excruciating trek across the desert. Noting the way her muscles flex and her curves beckon. The way her shirt is tied at her waist, showing a sliver of skin. It’s the type of thing that would topple an entire empire. And her scent—it beckons to me. Sunshine, fresh berries, vanilla. It’s an elixir that has my soul yearning for her.

A step forward. She matches my step with her own. Again. Again. We’re almost toe to toe, and the near proximity is painful. Flex my fingers at my side in order to give my hands something to do that isn’t touching her. Her dark eyes track the motion, then soak me in, ending with a fiery look in her eyes as she says quietly, “I don’t ever do this. It’s like I’m under a spell. I don’t know what this is, but yes.”

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