Sworn to the Orc (Hidden Hollow #1) Read Online Evangeline Anderson

Categories Genre: Alien, Alpha Male, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal Tags Authors: Series: Hidden Hollow Series by Evangeline Anderson
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Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
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At once the knife began to glow…and then it began to grow. Its blade went from six inches long to six feet or two meters. Then it stopped growing.

Rath nodded in satisfaction.

“All right—that ought to do it,” he muttered.

“What are you going to do with that?” I asked, eyeing the knife, which had become a massive sword in his hands.

“Going to use it to stake the fucking thing in the heart,” he told me. “That’s the only way to kill it. I was trying to get to it before, but I didn’t have time to draw my sword.” He shook his head. “I thought I was going to die before you started in with your magic.”

“I’m still worried about you.” I eyed all the gashes on his green skin. “That thing bit you all over and I saw the venom dripping from its fangs!”

“I’ll be fine,” he said briefly. “Though I wouldn’t be if you hadn’t stepped in. It’s a damn good thing you didn’t run and hide like I told you to.”

“I couldn’t leave you to fight it all alone,” I objected. “Not if I could help—I’m just glad I could.”

“Not as fucking glad as I am,” he rumbled. “Hang on—this should only take a minute.”

He stomped out into the trampled snow which was black with the ashes of the beaten heads and red with his own blood. When he got to the enormous T-Rex body, he took aim and I saw him stab it in the chest area, almost between the two grasping arms. The claw-tipped hands were waving feebly I saw, as though the beast was still alive, despite all its oxygen-starved heads.

But the minute Rath stabbed it and pierced its heart, the arms spasmed once…twice…and then went limp. As I watched, the whole enormous creature began to turn to black ash, just as the heads Rath had bashed in had done. In just a few seconds the whole thing had crumbled and blown away on the whipping wind, leaving only a huge black mark in the snow to show where it had been.

The Hydra was no more.

“There—that should do it.” Rath came tromping back to me, now streaked in the black ash of the defeated monster. “We met and bested all three of her challenges. Now Baba Yaga has to see us.”

“Will she—” I began.

“VERY WELL! You have proved yourselves.”

The enormous, booming voice startled me so badly that I slipped and fell to my knees in the dirty snow. Rath hooked a hand under my arm and hoisted me up again, then he pulled me against his side.

“Baba Yaga!” he roared, making me clap my hands over my ears. “Where are you? Show yourself!”

“Not yet,” the booming voice said. “I have no taste for company tonight. You may spend the night in my hut and tomorrow I will see you.”

Suddenly, something came walking through the forest towards us. At first, I couldn’t tell what it was—I only knew it was coming through the trees from the same direction the Hydra had appeared.

I tensed and reached for my magic, holding a hot wire of it in my hands and encouraging it to grow.

“You will not need that, little witch,” the voice of Baba Yaga informed me. “You have proven yourselves—now I offer my hospitality.”

I clutched the magic wire in my hands nervously anyway, not sure if I could trust her. But a moment later, the thing came through the trees and I saw what it was—a large wooden hut was moving towards us. No, not moving—walking. Because under it were a pair of enormous, yellow, knobby legs and splayed, three-toed feet.

“Chicken legs,” I whispered, staring at them in disbelief. “That hut has chicken legs!”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

The hut really did have chicken legs—they were each as long and thick as a good-sized tree trunk and the chicken feet attached to them were as big as compact cars. If you think regular chicken legs and feet are kind of gross, you ought to see them scaled up about a thousand times—it was truly a strange and disgusting sight.

“Chicken legs,” I said again, still disbelieving my eyes.

“Like I said before, haven’t you ever read any fairy tales?” Rath shot me a grin. “Everyone knows Baba Yaga lives in a hut that walks around on chicken legs. Come on—it looks like we’re staying here for the night.”

He walked fearlessly towards the hut as he spoke and I followed him, only hanging back a little because the whole situation was so weird. But if Rath wasn’t afraid, I shouldn’t be either, I told myself.

As soon as we got up to the hut—which was about eight feet off the ground—it squatted down, its knees bending backwards like a bird’s. This put it only two feet from the ground and the front door opened invitingly.

“Here—let me help you up.” Rath lifted me by the waist and placed me just inside the door. Then he stepped up himself, which he was able to do because of his long legs.


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