read on for a sneak peek at Bound to the Orc Guardian

The sheer sides of the stone column taunt me as I lean over the side. If there's one thing I've realized from all my hours volunteering in the ER, it's that a certain percentage of people wind up there because they try something stupid they convince themselves will work.

Looking at the twenty-foot drop to the ground, I know there's no way I can make it down on my own without breaking something.

"Hello! Can anybody help me?"

All the happy birdsong comes to an abrupt halt for a moment, as if the forest around me holds its breath.

I hold mine, too, ears straining…

There! A new sound. Some kind of repeated thumping. It gets louder and louder.

"Over here!" I yell, waving an arm overhead, even though I can't see anyone yet. I'm just so fucking relieved someone found me.

A huge gray monster riding the horse from hell breaks out of the trees. A hairless head tops a crudely shaped face, complete with a blob of a nose and a ragged gash of a mouth. A horrible fascination lights his beady black eyes when he sees me, and he bellows a meaningless string of syllables.

He's taller than the tallest human, and at least twice as wide, heavy with muscle. He wears nothing but an animal-pelt loincloth and a big double-headed axe, leaving little to the imagination. For once, I find myself not curious about how a body is put together. There's something about him that's repulsive on a primal level. Dedicating my life to medicine means I'm supposed to be above such things, but I'm not—not when it comes to him.

And the horse! It's yellow-green and covered in scales instead of hair, with a mane and tail made of waxy fat ribbons in dark olive green. Shark teeth fill its mouth, and I could swear it stares at me with malice.

"Carajo!" What is all of this? Mami always told stories of strange and fabulous things that happened to my long distant abuela, but those were just stories.

Weren't they?

The monster leaps from the horse and runs up to the stone. I've spent the past several hours wanting a way down, but right now, I'm thrilled the sides are too steep to climb.

Or not. Just my luck. Monster man went to the same school of "why not try? I'm sure nothing bad will happen" as all those people from the ER. He wraps his too-long arms around the sides of the stone, grunts, and…

Mierda. Yep. He's climbing.

More grunts, and he's halfway up, grinning up at me in a way I don't like.

I back away from the edge, but the top of the stone's so small there's nowhere to go. My hand wraps around my crystal unconsciously. I drop it as soon as I realize. Even if I didn't imagine things earlier and it healed my twisted ankle, what's it going to do to stop monster man? Nada.

He crests the edge, one long arm swiping out, only a couple of inches short of touching me. With another heave forward, he hooks my leg, yanking me so hard I fall across his shoulder with an oof of expelled breath.

His skin's rough and thick, like a leathery hide. Mierda, he smells so sour and rank I gag. Thank god, various anatomy and physiology labs have given me a strong stomach, because otherwise I'd be sick all down his back. Actually, he might smell better covered in vomit.

But he's climbing down to ground that's still too far away. If he dropped me from this height, I'd end up with some kind of cervical fracture at a minimum.

Okay, Selena, let's not throw up on the guy who literally holds our life in his hands. I swallow convulsively several times.

As soon as his feet touch the ground, I start to struggle. He's so tall I'm still eight feet off the ground, but my skin's crawling—body wants away from his with an almost animal panic. "Let me go!"

A huge hand clamps over my butt, pawing at me, a deep voice saying something that sounds more like rocks crashing together than words. Monster man grabs me and sets me down in front of him. I thought being on his shoulder was as bad as it could get.

I was wrong.

He leers at me and runs a black slug of a tongue over his lips.

My heart lurches in my chest and starts racing like I've developed tachycardia. I keep having that visceral reaction to him, one of pure revulsion that shakes me to my core.

I rabbit to the side, and he catches me, his hands clamping around me in a vise.

My mouth opens on a wordless cry as my whole body screams NO!

But I'm not the one yelling.

A green man on a galloping unicorn races from the trees, sword raised overhead. He barks out a challenge and leaps to the ground before the unicorn even comes to a full stop, landing with the perfect balance of an athlete.

Monster man lets go of me and whips around, pawing the axe from his back. They surge toward one another and meet in a clang of metal.

The unicorn lunges for the hell horse, and they start to fight as well.

Hemmed in on both sides, I backpedal until my shoulders hit the hard surface of the stone.

The green man is seven-feet tall and more heavily muscled than any human, but the monster's even larger. Yet they seem evenly matched because the green man's movements are fluid and precise, every strike a thing of beauty.

That's such a weird thing to think, because this is violence, and I'm supposed to hate anything that can cause bodily harm. But I don't. I might not want him to hurt the gray monster, but if that's what it takes to get the leering thing to leave me alone…

The unicorn lets out an angry whinny, rearing up to thump hooves into the hell horse, which screams and wheels around to run into the pines.

The green man counters a vicious strike and spins, driving his sword into the monster's shoulder. Black blood wells from the wound. That explains his skin color, but what in the world would make it black? If he doesn't use hemoglobin, which turns red when it carries oxygen, what does he use?

The monster flails backward, and I have to leap aside to not get squished.

Focus, Selena! Now's not the time for a comparative biochemistry lesson.

Another scream comes from just within the trees, and the monster man yells and goes racing over to meet the hell horse, swinging up onto its back and galloping away.

The green man turns to face me, his dark eyes raking over my turquoise scrubs with a frown. His voice is deep and resonant now that he's not yelling. "Drevistie."

He wears well-tailored clothes clearly cut to fit, the pants and boots brown leather, the shirt woven fabric in a dark rust red.

At his temples, silver strands lighten inky black hair that's even longer than mine. His handsome face has a perfectly shaped nose, scowl lines bracketing an otherwise attractive mouth. He's older than me, but it's the seriously hot kind of older that some men grow into, where they're even better looking than when they were young.

Now, him I wish I could study in detail. He looks like he'd be the perfect anatomy lesson.

My crystal warms on my chest as a zip of electricity shoots through me.

His shirt and pants disappear, leaving him standing in nothing but boots and sword belt, like some kind of naughty pirate fantasy come to life.

Medical curiosity—because of course that's all it is—pulls my eyes down his muscular chest and rippled abs to…

"Dios mio!" My eyes widen.

He's green. He's huge. And he's pierced .

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BOUND TO THE ORC GUARDIAN

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