Page 7 of Vexing the Grumpy Orc

The sound he made then—part snarl, part plea—was the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard. His control slipped, thrusts becoming sloppier. Deeper. Harder. Until we were both gasping for breath, clinging to each other like the world might end if either of us dared let go.

White-hot pleasure coursed through me as I shattered. He swore savagely as I clamped down around him, grinding deeper into my heat. One final thrust, and he followed me over the edge with a roar.

Magic surged through the circle, releasing its hold on us both. The dregs of power snapped back into me, dissipating into harmless sparks. For a moment, I saw the currents flowing through the world below me. Mountains and valleys and rivers of pure energy.

We collapsed in a tangle of sweaty limbs, both panting heavily. For a long moment, neither of us moved. The magic slowly faded, leaving behind a bone-deep satisfaction.

Then reality came crashing back.

I scrambled away from him, stumbling to where Digby’s statue sat unmoved among the now-dark mushrooms.

“No, no, no...” I traced the cold stone, searching for any hint of warmth. Any sign of life.

Nothing.

The ritual had failed. All my research, the precise timing and location with the ley lines, the rare mushrooms—wasted.

“Did it work?” The orc’s voice held genuine curiosity beneath the lingering roughness.

I whirled on him, fury replacing our earlier heat. “Of course it didn’t work! You broke the circle, you arrogant—” I bit off the insult, gathering my scattered supplies with shaking hands. “Do you have any ideahow long it took to figure out this ritual? How rare these mushrooms are?”

He rose to his feet, impossibly tall and broad in the moonlight. Any other time, I might have appreciated the view. Now, I just wanted to throttle him.

“You’re the one performing unauthorized magic in my territory?—”

“And you’re the one who couldn’t keep his territorial bullshit in check for five more minutes!” I snatched up my shirt, yanking it over my head. “I was so close. If you’d just left me alone?—”

“Left you alone?” He scoffed. “You’re lucky I didn’t drag you straight to the village elders. Outsiders aren’t welcome here, witch. Especially not ones working magic on sacred ground.”

We glared at each other, chests heaving. The air between us crackled with renewed tension. But this time, there was no magic to blame. Just anger and frustration and the sinking realization of what we’d done.

“Get off my land.” His voice was cold. “You and your filthy magic aren’t welcome here.”

“Gladly.” I shoved the last of my supplies into my bag, and met his glare with one of my own. “And next time? Stay the fuck out of my way.”

“Oh?” One eyebrow arched in challenge. “Planning on trespassing again?”

“I don’t have a choice.” I hefted Digby’s statue, cradling it close to my chest. “This is the only placewith shadow caps and a strong enough ley line intersection needed for the ritual.”

His answering growl sent shivers down my spine. “Try it. See what happens.”

I stormed into the trees, leaving him standing in the wreckage of my failed ritual. Angry tears burned behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.

I’d lost control. Let myself get distracted from what really mattered. And now Digby would pay the price.

Never again.

Next time, I’d be ready. And no arrogant orc—no matter how good he felt inside me—would stop me from saving my familiar.

CHAPTER THREE

HANNAH

“Coffee’s getting cold.”

Bree’s gentle nudge snapped me back to the present. I blinked at the nurses’ station clock, surprised to find my first shift nearly over.

“Sorry. Big day.” I wrapped my hands around the lukewarm mug, letting the familiar smell ground me.

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