Page 46 of Bound to the Orc Warlord

My hands tighten in Midnight’s mane as she rears high, trying to avoid the drugging fog.

Another gourd drops, launching an explosion of the noxious fumes outward. The only fae who can handle the herb safely are the sluagh, which means only one thing.

Fear scrapes icy fingers up my spine, playing over each rib and stopping my heart.

The soul stealers are after my bride.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Ashley

A gust of wind tears me to the side and threatens to send me spinning. I clutch the handle of my broomstick harder, willing it to steady. My crystal warms on my chest, becoming almost unbearably hot.

“Your magic is stronger than the weather,” Drake yells, flapping effortlessly in the air by my side. “You simply have to believe it!”

“I’m trying!” I wobble in place, defying the wind but still buffeted by it. Yet it’s an improvement. When we first climbed to this altitude, each gust blew me every which way. If nothing else, practicing in high wind has shown me how little control I actually had yesterday, when flying came easy only because there weren’t any obstacles.

Clouds hang low overhead, their fat bellies moving and churning like froth-covered milk brought to a boil. The wind slaps my face and arms with damp fingers, promising rain to come. There’s an electric feel to the air, one that calls to my magic. A picture fills my mind of lightning striking my crystal necklace, and the thought’s not as scary as it should be.

“Let’s go again.” Drake takes off, flying easily as if the oncoming storm doesn’t exist.

I lean forward on my broom and follow, channeling all my will into the desire to fly straight ahead. The wind howls around me, ripping my hair to the side to make a fluttering flag, plucking at my clothes with the impatient fingers of small children demanding attention.

I ignore it all, my eyes locked on Drake’s green wings. My crystal warms my chest, settling into a steady glow.

A wild elation fills me. I’m doing it! I’m flying like the wind’s not there!

Drake spirals up into a perfect loop-de-loop and comes down to fly beside me. “Good! Now we practice turns.”

“Okay!” I’ll fail the first few times, but it doesn’t matter. My magic sings in my blood, humming the song of my mother, promising me I’m not alone—I never have been.

Promising that the power of generations of witches moves through me.

I’ll get this. I know I will.

A couple of hours later, Drake calls out, “I think that’s good for today.”

“No! Just a little more.”

“You’re getting tired, and it’s making your flying worse instead of better.”

As if to prove his point, a gust of wind smacks into me, sending me listing sideways. I jerk the broom back to steadiness, but it’s hard, so hard.

“Yeah, okay.” I sigh. I really wanted to return to Dravarr having mastered every bit of my power, even though I know it’s unrealistic. But that’s me—I always throw myself at things with everything I’ve got. Patience isn’t in my vocabulary. Reality rarely matches my expectations, though, so I need to be “sensible.” I say a reluctant, “You’re right.”

“Of course I am.” He flashes me one of his toothy smiles and bobs his head. “I’m a dragon.”

The wind steals my laugh, tossing it into the air, and I dive after it.

Trees rush by below, their tops churned by the stormy air. Lighter ground appears to the right, covered with the bright green of grass instead of the blue of birch and the darker color of pines.

We’re meeting Dravarr at a rock formation Midnight said is obvious. We race across a flat area, hills rising ahead. They’re higher on the left, slowly descending as they travel across the horizon until they reach a dark column of frozen lava at the very end. It looks like the body of some huge beast sloping from a high back to a smaller tail, with the tip of said tail thrust up to the sky.

Two flocks of birds lift from the trees ahead, wings flapping as they fight to gain height. I’m no outdoor girlie, having grown up in one of the largest cities on Earth, but they showed alotof nature documentaries at the orphanage. It gave the adults a break from watching us, and it counted as educational time, which regular TV shows didn’t.

“I thought birds hunkered down in storms,” I yell.

“They do,” Drake calls back, his head dipping to look at the birds.

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