Page 75 of Bound to the Orc Hunter

Now, how can I make her believe it?

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Grace

I drift in and out of sleep, snuggled into the warm comfort of Branikk’s arms.

Then yells from outside jerk me fully awake.

He bolts upright, his hand holding the now-lit glow stone, his head cocked like he can understand the muffled shouts.

I know what it is before he even says a word, because what else can it be?

“The sluagh are here.” He presses a hot kiss to my mouth, then heads out into the tunnel, hunched over to move quickly in the low space.

I grab the glow stone and follow, wolves rushing by me on either side, not needing to duck. I move quickly, but by the time I get outside, everyone else is already there. Drake now sits ontop of the hill, wings spread, looking ready to leap into the sky. Aurora’s down in the clearing with Branikk, Dravarr, Ashley, me, Mist, and all the adult wolf warriors.

It should be plenty. We’re trained. We’ve got this.

Then I look up at the sky, and it’s so black I think it’s still night. But no. There are simply so many sluagh above us they block the early morning sky.

“Holy fuck,” I breathe.

They shriek in unison, and it’s so loud it sounds like all the demons of hell being unleashed upon the world, a high ringing note that makes your bones ache.

Then I feel it, the sluagh from both times before. It’s up there, watching, waiting. It’s coming specifically for me.

Riselda calls out, “Cu sith, remember your designated jobs.”

“Do what I do.” Branikk picks up the net guns and tosses one of them to Dravarr. Then he shoves as many net cartridges as possible into all of his pockets.

I gather up half the net bags and hand the rest to Ashley. “We’re bagging the birds the wolves bring us, but we have to keep hold of them to keep their flocks subdued.”

“No, hang them from my saddle,” Aurora says, stepping between us. “That will be enough for me to keep control over them.”

“Great thinking!”

“I will keep any sluagh from attacking while you’re burdened,” Mist says, and for once, the cat’s voice is deadly serious.

Ashley grabs a couple of the butterfly-net things she brought and lays them at her feet, along with her broomstick. “Just in case.”

I stare into the tornado of birds flying overhead, a shiver going through me. “There’s no way you can fly into that.”

“I’ve faced sluagh before.”

“This many?” I jab a finger at the sky for emphasis.

She frowns and shakes her head.

She’s brave. She’s here even though she’s pregnant because she’s the only witch who could fly and come help. When I asked her about it yesterday, she shrugged and said, “In orc culture, the warlord’s spouse fights by their side. Besides, the soul stealers are afterallhuman witches. If I don’t make sure this world is safe for us—or as safe as Faerie can be—then my baby will never be safe.”

I get it. She’s right—mothers fight for their children all the time. And humans need to be safe to have a home here. But I never imagined this many soul stealers.

“Aren’t we special?” I mutter, my eyes finding Branikk. He stands, legs shoulder-width apart, holding the net gun with ease. He’s piled even more fresh cartridges around his feet, and I try to tell myself he’ll be fine.

But what if he isn’t? What if something happens to him? To me? And I never told him how I feel? Can I live with that?

I open my mouth. “Br—”

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