Page 73 of Bound to the Orc Warlord

“Time to go back.” I take it more slowly, spiraling down through the air in a way that lets them study the forest in every direction. When we finally reach the ground, they burst from me like an explosion of glowing confetti, zipping around in a swirl.

Remaining seated on my collarbone, the leader looks up at me as the others whistle in delight. “You are no longer No Pizza. You are now High Flyer.”

“Thanks.”

“You will take us again.” It’s a statement, not a question, and I fight down a laugh at her fierce expression.

“I will.”

“Good.” She launches away from me in a flutter of glowing moth wings. Reaching into her flowing clothing, she pulls out a blue flower on a green stem. It’sfartoo large to have fit in her pocket, but I just grin and roll with it. Magic!

“You are a friend of the pixies. If ever you need our aid, ring this bell.”

“Thank you.” I curl my fingers around the glowing flower.

Once she flies off, I grin over at the others. “I’m no longer No Pizza. I got an upgrade!”

I finish dinner off with a bowl of chocolate ice cream, Olivia having offered to make anything I wanted for dessert. It’s plain, no sprinkles, no sauces, just regular old chocolate ice cream. It probably makes me a basic bitch that I love it so much, but I don’t care. It’s always been my favorite.

I doze off to the sound of comfortingly deep voices, barely stirring when Dravarr lifts me from his side to carry me home to his cottage.

The wide bed feels luxuriously soft after camping for days, and I starfish across it as he tugs off my clothes.

Then he’s between my legs, licking me slowly to a glorious orgasm that steals the last of my strength. As he climbs onto the bed and pulls me close, I reach for his erection, but he moves my hand away.

Too tired to protest, I fall into a deep sleep, only to wake the next morning, wondering why he didn’t want me to touch him.

CHAPTER FORTY

Dravarr

My homecoming with my bride should be a joyous, happy occasion.

It is anything but.

The constant worry that someone will slip and tell her we’re already married haunts every second.

Midnight’s constant looks of “I told you so” don’t help.

Rovann’s already said his piece, so I keep expecting my mother to give me a lambasting for not telling Ashley I’m her husband.

Instead, the attack—like all the best ones—comes from an unexpected direction.

Krivoth.

He waylays me as I leave the weavers late the next morning, having overseen the construction of the first batch of sluagh nets Ashley designed. His face darkens with anger, his shoulders bristling. “I want to talk to you.”

“Not here.” I lead him around the wide trunk of the tree until we’re out of sight of the village green. I set down the sluagh nets and take several steps away from them. If this turns into another brawl, I want my hands free and the nets safe. “What is it, Krivoth?”

“By the goddess, Dravarr! You have everything I ever wanted, and you throw it away!” He makes a casting motion, opening his fist to fling his fingers wide. “I can barely stand to watch you. It’s excruciating.”

I growl, my lips peeling back from my teeth to bare my tusks.

“I’d dance naked in the dark of night, hoping to call the goddess to me, to gift me a moon bound bride. If I thought Ashley would have me, I’d fall at her feet and beg her to take me instead of you.”

My hand fists in his tunic, yanking him forward until he can feel my breath hot on his face. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I wouldn’t. You’re right.” The defiance drains from his expression, leaving behind a wistful longing. “Because the Moon Goddess didn’t choose me, did she? She chose you.” He pokes my chest with a sharp finger. “Just like it’s always you. I’ve spent my entire life constantly held up to you.”

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