Page 42 of Bound to the Orc Hunter

Terror digs claws into my heart.

I cannot lose her! My moon bound bride is my life!

“Grace!” I roar.

Lifting my sword overhead, I leap to slice the vile bird from the air.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Grace

God, these little fuckers are vicious! I’d forgotten how much their beak pecks hurt, since the healing salve Branikk treated my wounds with healed them up right quick last time.

Or did it hurt this much before? It’s kind of hard to remember. Everything’s gone weird and woozy, like my head’s stuffed with cotton candy in place of brains.

The others fight too, but my vision’s gone a bit dark around the edges. I hope they’re okay.

I hope Branikk’s okay. I try to turn, to see him…

Another burst of pain on my left shoulder.

I bat at the bird, but I’m hella clumsy, and the knife barely grazes it. Since when am I this damned uncoordinated?

It buries its beak in my shoulder.

“Fuck me, oww!” I yell through the pain, needing to let itoutsomehow.

At least it clears my head. I grit my teeth and stab again, and the bird disappears from the blade, fading into nothingness.

But there’s always another and another.

The next peck is a dull ache, like it’s not even really happening to me. God, I’m tired. I could sit down, just for a little bit.

Maybe Branikk will join me. We could sit side by side, just like we did last night. That would be nice. His big thigh could press against mine. I like it when he does that…

My knees give out.

“Grace!” Branikk yells. His voice comes from far away, but he sounds upset.

I don’t like that. I don’t want him to be upset. He’s a happy person, and I like him that way. I want to do something to make Branikk happy. I force my eyes open. God, they’re so heavy.

Branikk swings his sword over me, fighting off birds. Mean little nasty birds with their red eyes and red beaks and red talons. Yuck.

But no matter how many he hits, there are always more. They’re pecking at him, hurting him.

“No,” I mumble, my lips numb. “No.”

If I want to keep them from hurting him, I need a net. “I wish I had something to capture them with.”

Warmth blooms on my chest, and a tingle of electricity goes through me, waking me just a bit. A weight fills my hands. I squint down. It’s one of the net guns we used for a carnival game! I loved that game.

I lift the big cone end of the muzzle and pull the trigger. A white net shoots out, wrapping around a black bird so it crashes to the ground, flapping trapped wings.

Branikk steps on the edge of the net, and a big bunch of the birds overhead go quiet, their wings moving just enough to hold them in position in the air.

In that same instant, the cotton-candy fluff filling my head melts away, and energy returns to my muscles. “Oh, god! What was that? It’s like I was going brain dead!”

“It’s the soul stealers. They drained enough of your life force to incapacitate you…almost.” He grins over at me. “But you, my beautiful bride, have turned the tables on them!”

---