Page 84 of Bound to the Orc Warlord

“Is it big enough?” I ask.

“It will be when my mother gets done with it.” Drake’s head moves in amused circles for a few moments, and I wonder how many pine trees are about to be squished into sawdust to make a dragon-sized landing pad.

Then he launches into the air, leaving us alone.

Dravarr still hasn’t turned to look at me, and a thread of confusion curls through my stomach. He went after the sluaghthat hurt me with such vehemence! I hoped it meant that he cared about me.

But he’s clan warlord. He’s a protector. Was that all it was? Duty?

My lower lip begins to tremble as I take a shaky breath. I wish I could be angry—anger’s so much easier to feel than sadness—but I’ve never been very good at anger, and it also wouldn’t be fair. Dravarr may have hidden the arranged marriage, but he’s not the root cause of this sticky situation. That’s on the Moon Goddess.

“Dravarr…”

He spins and drops to his knees before me, putting us closer to head height—I only have to look up a little to meet his eyes. They bore into mine as if delving to the depths of my soul. “My bride…” His sword drops to the ground, whatever he started to say forgotten. His hands flutter over my bare arms and shoulders like he doesn’t know where to touch me. “You’re hurt.”

“So are you.” And it’s true. Beak pecks have left splotches of blood on both of us, and he sports several cuts as well.

But we’re still alive, and that’s what matters. I grab his hand and press it to my shoulder, my skin singing with the contact.

“You’re showing off your pink scraps again.” His finger toys with my bra strap.

One corner of my lips lifts in a sad half smile. “It got your attention last time.”

He strips the shirt over his head and pulls it over mine, the heat of his body still held by the cloth. His hands linger on me, his gaze haunted.

It’s not a look I’ve ever seen on him. Is he going to tell me something horrible… or wonderful?

“My Ashley, can you ever forgive me? I’ve been such a fool.” The words burst from him like shots from a cannon, as if it takes so much effort to get each one out that they fly fast and forceful.The tips of his fingers dig into my back, holding me in place. “I did not see you for who you truly are at first. I was blind to your strengths, unable to recognize them because they’re different from mine.”

Each word strikes true, piercing my heart. But it’s the sweetest pain, the pain of hope. I breathe out, “What do you see now?”

“I see my perfect match, who complements me in every way.” His fingers stroke over my wind-tossed hair, picking up a strand and bringing it to his lips to press a kiss to it.

My heart skips. The motion is so unbearably tender.

“My bride, you are the beautiful glimmer of sunrise after a long night, warming the world with your beauty and joy. I lived a half life before you, a gray existence waiting to be sparked to full color by your fire.” He caresses my cheek. “I love you, my Ashley.”

Oh! He loves me!

His face wavers behind a well of tears as emotion fills my chest until it feels like I’ll float up into the sky without needing any magic.

Then Dravarr’s mouth is on mine, grounding me here in the place I most want to be. In his arms. In his life.

In his heart.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Dravarr

My bride’s soft mouth quivers under mine, opening at the first sweep of my tongue. A groan tears from me. I’m so blessed to have her forgiveness.

I pull back, cupping her sweet face. “I’m sorry. I will spend the rest of our lives making it up to you, if you’ll give me the chance.”

“Of course I will!” A sun-bright smile lights her face as Ashley leans into my touch, the skin of her cheek satiny as she rubs it against my palm. “Don’t you know? I love you, Dravarr. I have for a while now.”

Elation fills me such as I’ve never felt in my life. She loves me! My Ashley loves me.

I do not deserve her forgiveness, not yet. I haven’t earned it. But by the goddess, I’ll take it, grasp it in greedy claws like a starved man stealing bread. For that is what I’ve been without her, starved of affection, of joy. I had my family, my friends, and my whole village, and still I held myself back, grasping for glories and vain dreams of power.

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