Page 63 of Bound to the Orc Warlord

“Mmm. You’re right. Iama witch!” She waves a finger in the air in time with her words. “I call upon my power. Protect us from eavesdroppers so we can have sex!”

She waits a few breaths, then says, “Did it work?”

“No, it did not!” Midnight yells from outside.

Ashley breaks into laughter, her body shaking against mine, the bottom of her jiggling breasts brushing my fingers in the most fascinating fashion.

“Let them listen,” I say, grinding my erection against her lush ass.

“Need I remind you we have foals out here?” Noon’s dry voice calls out.

As if called into being by the older unicorn’s words, a series of high, sweet voices fill the air. “Ashley!” “Come play!” “I want to fly!”

I grunt as my moon bound pushes up onto one elbow, her face turned toward the tent flaps with a look of anticipation.

“Go,” I grumble. “I’ll pack up.”

“You sure?”

“Go.” I press a kiss to her cheek and give her a little shove that pushes her all the way upright.

“Okay!” she says brightly, crawling eagerly outside in a blast of sunshine and cooler air.

High squeals of excitement greet her, and my bride’s joyful laughter dashes away the last of my disappointment.

We leave the herd behind at noon and ride hard to make up the lost time. The unicorn warriors keep pace easily, Midnight’s mother staying by her side. There’s a joy in my friend’s steps, one I like.

I vow to send her home for an extended visit once this sluagh business is settled. She’s right—I’ve monopolized her time with my issues.

My bride uses the time to fly high overhead, practicing maneuvers with Drake. She’s improving greatly, though it’s still difficult to watch her flip upside down. No matter how much I’m exposed to her power, my mind still doesn’t want to accept that her natural tendency is to float upward instead of fall to the ground.

The wind whistles across the plain, uninhibited by trees, blowing the tall grass into curves of green slashed through with silver.

The forest waits ahead, darkening the edges of my perception, and the ground dips to the muddy banks of a wide, shallow river. The water runs clear over the rich brown silt of the bed, unbroken by rocks.

Water nymphs rise from the surface, cloaked in streaming watery hair, their arms extended as their burbling voices cry out for their favorite unicorn.

“I’ve got this!” Midnight tosses her head on a laugh and splashes forward. She stops in the middle of the river, dancing in the water as the nymphs converge to tickle her belly, shoulders, and thighs, their water foam fingers stroking over her.

The other unicorns race across the river, fleeing from the nymphs, who dart faster than the fastest fish to paint theglistening silver of the unicorn’s coats with drops of sparkling wetness.

We leave the river once the others have crossed, Midnight’s steps slow and careful as the nymphs leap alongside us the entire way.

The others wait where the muddy bank transitions to meadow, using the grass to scrape the mud out of their hooves.

“Damned nymphs. I’d forgotten how good you are at distracting them.” Noon tips her head to her daughter. “Thank you.”

“I like them,” Midnight says. “It’s not a hardship.”

With a sharp nod, Noon takes off, the other unicorns springing to keep up.

The trees ahead grow in size until we reach the edge of the forest. We come to a stop, and I slide from Midnight’s back.

The two unicorns carrying the sluagh bird bags step out from between the pines, their gloomy accompaniment flying overhead.

The weight of responsibility resettles onto my shoulders. I bring a potential enemy back to my people as much as I bring an answer to defeating said enemy.

Ashley must feel the burden as well. She lands beside me, no longer smiling. I hate to see such a serious expression on her face. My sunny bride is made for joy.

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