Page 65 of Bound to the Orc Warlord

“So…” I tug at my lip, working to piece it together. “All the doorways to Faerie closedanda new goddess appeared all at the same time?”

“The dragons didn’t know of her before that either,” Drake says.

Midnight adds, “Or the unicorns.”

“And we’re all from different realms of Faerie,” Dravarr says.

“So she’s called the Moon Goddess because…?”

“She has power beyond normal fae and speaks in a celestial voice none can understand, so she’s a goddess.”

“She only comes at night, big, silver, and glowing in the sky,” Midnight says. “What else would we call her but moon?”

I drink some more water, then Dravarr bundles me back into the saddle. “I’m sorry we’re pushing so hard,” he rumbles as he settles in behind me.

“Don’t be.” I wrap my hand over the one holding my stomach. “We all decided this is best.”

Even though I can’t see them in the dark, the two flocks of sluagh hang in the air above us, silent and unnatural. The sooner we figure out what to do with the vile things, the better. We’d discussed it when we separated from the herd, and everyone agreed to push on for Moon Blade Village without stopping.

“I can fly all day and night.” Drake launches from the ground with the loud flap of wings. “Dragons can do anything unicorns can.”

Midnight snorts and stomps. But as soon as he’s flown ahead, she whispers, “Don’t let the youngling hurt himself. He can ride my withers if he needs to.”

Then she’s off, racing through the trees, water nymphs calling burbling-brook goodbyes.

Dravarr wraps his arms over mine, protecting me from the slapping branches, and I sway back into his strength, knowing I’m safe in his arms.

Breakfast is the last of the travel rations eaten in the saddle. We scoop up handfuls and eat it dry like a crunchy granola version of trail mix. The bits of jerky are extra chewy without being softened by hot water, but I still like it.

When we pause by a creek to refill the waterskin and go to the bathroom, Dravarr pulls out a tan piece of paper and writes something across it in walnut ink using a yellow-feathered quill. The brown symbols slide and reshape the longer I stare at them, becoming words I read aloud.

“Send someone to meet me at the cleaning stone. When I get to the village, do not say a word about my moon—”

Dravarr snatches the paper up before I can finish the sentence, waving it to dry the ink, a scowl carving creases into his cheeks and forehead. “We need to get going.”

“What did you mean about moon?”

He bites out, “It’s an orc thing.”

“Oh, okay.” Maybe it has something to do with his religion? I don’t want to be insensitive, so I drop it.

“Drakonisrevener, would you do me and our cause a great service?” Dravarr folds the paper into a clever packet, turning the message into its own envelope with one final tuck of a flap.

“What is it?”

“Moon Blade Village is only an hour in that direction, located in a circular grove of heart trees.” He points off into the forest. “I know you can fly far faster than we can ride—”

“Yes, I can!” Drake spreads his wings. “Unicorns are good, but dragons are still superior.” He’s softened his stance on the equestrian fae after meeting the herd, but he’s still Drake.

A smile tugs the corner of my lips, and Midnight snorts.

Dravarr continues as if no one interrupted. “—so I need you to take this message ahead and give it to Leyna or Rovann.”

“Leyna or Rovann.” Drake’s crest rises, and he bobs his head. “I can do it!”

“Thank you.” Dravarr crouches to extend the paper to Drake, who grips it between the talons of a front foot.

The dragon bounds into the air, excitement rippling off him like heat waves off summer pavement. “Watch how fast I can fly!”

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