Page 72 of Bound to the Orc Hunter

But Branikk’s grinning and waving his arms, and the winged shape above is far bigger than any bird.

When it spirals in for a landing, another person comes into view, silhouetted against the evening sky. Is that a woman… on abroomstick?

As if that’s not weird enough, the winged creature lands, and it’s a dragon!

My mouth falls open. Hearing the others talk about them is one thing, but seeing one…

It’s green and stands about six-feet tall, with a big crest of feathers on top of its head making it look even taller.

An orc rolls off it to stand, his hands braced on his lower back as he bends backward in a stretch. He’s tall and heavily muscled, with a beard and long black hair bound in a braid. He’s dressed like Branikk in brown leather pants and boots, and a dark-green linen shirt stretches tight across his wide shoulders. A huge sword rides at his hip, and he scowls as he adjusts its position. “That was unpleasant.”

“Tell me about it!” The dragon says in a clear tenor. “I might have had a recent growth spurt, but you’rehorriblyheavy.”

“Now you know how I feel,” Aurora trots over, having descended the hill. “Try carrying an orc around fordays.”

“No, thank you.” The dragon settles his wings on his back and gyrates his head in little circles.

The woman lands, letting her broomstick fall, the backend weighed down with a pack and lots of things that look like butterfly nets. Even though dressed like the orcs, she’s clearly human. Short and plump, she has wavy, fire-red hair, and a ton of freckles dot the light skin of her pretty face, which breaks into the sweetest smile when she sees me. “I’m Ashley. You must be Grace!”

Before I can even say yes, she trots over and throws her arms around me. I haven’t been hugged a whole lot in my life, but I can still tell this is a really good one. Ashley hugs like she means it, putting her whole body into it.

The awkward stiffness I inherited from my uptight parents melts in the face of the happiness radiating from her, and I hug her back.

When we break apart, she pulls a necklace from inside the collar of her pink linen shirt, showing off a crystal that looks like mine. “I’m a witch, like you!”

“I haven’t really been thinking of myself that way.”

“Didn’t your family tell stories about it? Or were there clues in your family history that you’re all witches?”

“No. My parents don’t like anything they consider weird or odd. And witches in the family would definitely count.” I snort. “They wouldn’t even let me be a witch for Halloween as a kid. When I asked, my mom marched me right past all the cool costumes and made me go as Hello Kitty.”

“That sounds sensible,” Mist says. “Cats are always good.”

“Sure, when you’re five.” I meet Ashley’s eyes. “But not when you’re thirteen.”

She winces. “Maybe it was a defensive measure. From what I can tell, witch families became even more heavily persecutedwhen the doors to Faerie closed and they lost access to magic. Maybe they were trying to protect you.”

“Maybe.” Shit. Am I going to have to rethink everything about my parents? Are they uptight for a good reason, or at least what they consider a good reason? All their lectures about being quiet and normal and not standing out feel kind of different now, yet I still hated those lectures. Being with Branikk, finding happiness and doing big magic like the Ferris wheel—it’s the most alive I’ve ever felt. I scrub at my face, confused by too many conflicting emotions.

“Anyway, this is my husband, Dravarr.” She gestures toward the new orc.

“He’s warlord of Moon Blade Village,” Branikk adds, clapping the other man on the shoulder.

In contrast to our outgoing partners, the big orc and I exchange much more restrained hellos. But I like his quiet strength. Dravarr feels dependable.

“And I’m Drake!” the dragon says. “Actually, my name’s Drakonisrevener, Third of His Line and Son of Sheevora the Magnificent, but humans find that difficult to say.”

“Everyonefinds that difficult to say.” Aurora whinnies a laugh.

“Dragons don’t!” Drake lifts his wings and bobs his head. “Dragons are superior beings.”

Mist, Aurora, and Ashley all echo his final words, so that must be a popular refrain of his.

“I’m Grace.”

Branikk wraps his arm around my shoulder, his face beaming. “She’s my moon bound bride!”

Shock ripples through me. I’m not something he hides or speaks of begrudgingly. He’s so happy to call me his bride in front of other people, and these aren’t strangers like the wolves.These are people he knows, people who mean something in his life—his warlord, even.

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