Page 4 of Bound to the Orc Hunter

The door shuts on her looking up at Krivoth, her smile as warm as sunshine. They’re so happy together they both radiate contentment and joy.

A bittersweet pang goes through me. Only a few weeks ago, Krivoth would have been here with us in the main baths, eager to get ready for a night drinking down the pub. I’m glad he’s happy—my friend certainly deserves it after the way his father treated him—but I’m also envious of his marriage.

A look of longing flickers over Sturrm’s face as if he feels the same way I do, but when he catches me looking, he scowls harder than ever and stomps back over to the pool. It seems I’m not the only one who wants a moon bound bride, a perfect match chosen by the goddess.

I return to the bench lining one wall of the long room. The bathhouse is one of the only structures in Moon Blade Village not built into a heart tree. Instead, the rectangular building rests on the outskirts, built over natural hot springs. The individual trees that form our cottages can pull up enough water for us to use for regular tasks, but they can’t do enough for a proper bath.

And they can’t make water this hot.

Long, short windows ring the tops of the stone walls, letting in the last of the day’s light. An oblong pool stretches the length of the room, lined with smooth rock. My ancestors expanded the biggest hot spring until it can seat at least ten orcs at a time—more if they’re friendly. Steam curls from the surface of the clear water.

I strip naked and make use of a bucket of water and a cleaning cloth to wash off before getting in. Each swipe of the white linen comes away dusty as I clean off the dirt of travel, and each dunk into the water bucket activates its magic, leaving the fabric pristine and ready to clean some more. These cleaning cloths are one of the specialties of Moon Blade Village, which my ancestors founded in this location because it’s close to the cleaning stone, one of the magical standing stones that dot Alarria.

Once I’m clean, I turn and shake my long black hair out of the small braid I sometimes use to keep the front out of my eyes.

Gerna and a few others soak in the clear water. Her dark eyes meet mine, full of friendly welcome but no special warmth,no noticing of my body, even though I’m a male in his prime. Similarly, the magical stud mounted above my cock gives not the slightest shiver—the magic in it never reacts to her as a sexual partner. No matter how much our families hoped we’d make a match, I’m like a brother to her, and she’s the sister I never had.

The hot water closes over me as I walk into the pool, and I let out a happy groan and settle on a ledge the perfect height to dunk me up to my shoulders.

Sturrm grunts, his tusks framing his usual frown. He’s only in his thirties, so he’s far from old. But it’s enough of a difference for him to tease. “You’re too young to have sore muscles.”

I grin over at him. I’ve been out hunting for a few days and just dropped off a stag at the butchers. “Say that after sleeping on hard ground for three nights straight.”

“Bah.” Gerna splashes me with water, her green face smiling. “You love camping out.”

I laugh, unable to deny it. Yet one of the joys of a hunting trip is returning home to all the comforts of the village—a real bed, a hot bath, and ale with my friends down at the pub.

My eyes flick to the private door at the end of the room.

How much better would home be if I too had a moon bound bride?

A hauntingly beautiful melody invades my dreams, teasing me with sounds that skirt the edge of meaning, as if I could understand the message if I only listened harder. Silver light pulls me awake.

None of it’s a dream.

A whirling sphere of white hangs in the middle of my bedroom, shooting off tiny bolts of blue lightning. It’s so brightit turns the honey-colored wood of the walls and floor into sunshine yellow.

The music sings in the air, swelling in tempo. The sphere dives toward me, splashing across my eyes in brightness to settle inside me. I no longer need to parse to individual notes to understand the message—a knowing rests deep in my bones. The Moon Goddess has summoned me.

I throw off my furs and race outside, not even bothering to put on pants. My bare toes dig into the soft dirt as I run around the wide curving trunks of the heart trees. The village green opens before me, the moss soft underfoot as the tree canopy falls away to show the sky. When I slide to a halt, my body spins like a compass needle pulled by true north.

There! I note the stars overhead, getting my bearings.

The goddess will send a new sky gift to Alarria, and it will bemine.

I’ll have my own moon bound bride.

CHAPTER THREE

Grace

I come to bathed in sunlight, sprawled out on my back on a hard surface.

“Whuh?” I scrub at my eyes, blinking up at a sky bluer than any I’ve ever seen.

Didn’t I just fall? The memory of the stomach-dropping sensation still thrums through my body, as if I fell forever. I thought… I thought I was going to die, that Calvin’s stupidity or obliviousness had killed me.

My hand presses over my heart, which thuds, sure and strong. Nope. Not dead.

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