Page 71 of Bound to the Orc Warlord

I hand over a piece of linen paper and a stick of charcoal, and everyone watches as the human women sketch out their idea.

After several minutes, my moon bound turns to me, smiling in triumph as she holds up a design for a sluagh catcher. Proving once again what a fool I was for not realizing her for the prize she truly is.

My heart aches. I still need to make amends.

I still have no idea how.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Ashley

That evening, Dravarr and Rovann carry a table and benches from the pub out onto the village green, and Leyna follows, tankards of ale clutched in her large fists.

The five of us sit down for a family meal, with Hurtle and Midnight joining. I’m thrilled to be included. This has to be another good sign, right?

Olivia conjures oats for the unicorns, while she makes pizza for the rest of us.

My mouth waters as my favorite mushroom and black olive pie pops into existence on my plate. Dravarr did an amazing job of keeping us fed while in the wild—heaven knows, I would have starved five times over without him—but that’s not the same aspizza. Clearly, you can take the girl out of the city, but you can’t take the New York City out of the girl.

And I’m pretty damned far out of the city, sitting here surrounded by tree cottages and moss and seven-foot green orcs.

Iloveit.

I share a smile with Olivia as she finishes conjuring the last of the pizzas. She feels it, too—that we’re meant to be here in Faerie, where we can use our magic.

Where we have Dravarr and Rovann.

A moan slips from me as I take the first bite, cheese and salty black olive and tomato sauce coating my tongue. I look up to find Dravarr watching me, his dark eyes filled with a different kind of hunger that makes my lower belly tighten.

“This is amazing! And I’d know.” I hook a thumb toward my chest. “NYC in the house.”

“Hey,” Olivia protests. “Chicago pizza is the best pizza.”

“Not gonna argue. ’Cause you’re the one who can make me pizza.” I grin and take another bite.

Dravarr leans over to take a chomp out of my slice, his face serious as he chews thoughtfully. “Not bad, but not as good as this.” He points at a flat disc of pepperoni on his pizza.

I pluck it free and pop it in my mouth. Spicy herbs tingle on my tongue with more flavor than I’m used to. “Oh, thatisgood.”

“Real Italian deli pepperoni,” Olivia says. “Handmade.”

We fall silent then, everyone busy eating. It grows darker, and Dravarr taps together a few glow stones to activate their spells and lay them on the table.

Blue dots of light appear, flying from the direction of Ravarr and Olivia’s cottage.

“Olivia!” the lead pixie calls out in an excited voice, her moth wings fluttering in a bright-blue blur.

“They use your name!” Amused all over again at what they call me. “Supposedly, I’m ‘Not Pizza.’”

“Yes. Word has already reached us about Not Pizza,” the pixie says, then her tone turns smug. “But it does not concern my flock because we have Pizza.” You can hear the capital letter.

“Wait,” Olivia says. “Pixies call me ‘Pizza’? I thought you used my name?”

“Names are special. Onlymyflock can use your name. To others, you are known by your title.” Her little hands spread wide in a flourish, her voice worshipful. “Pizza.”

“I’m pretty sure none of them say ‘Not Pizza’ in that tone of voice,” I say, laughter bubbling up.

Olivia grins and says to the pixie, “Ashley can’t make pizza, but she can fly.”

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