Page 28 of Bound to the Orc Renegade

“Why not?”

“No one knows. Even with the power of the speaking stone, no one can understand her celestial voice.” I shrug. “It matters little. For now she brings us human witches with great power.”

Moon bound brides the goddess matches and marries to orcs to strengthen the magic of my people.

To strengthenme.

Recalled to my purpose, I say, “You must practice more.”

Storm eats still, grazing almost sleepily. He’ll probably need more time to recover. Mist humphs and stalks off, muttering about hunting, and the sprites settle onto the meadowsweet, their little faces turning to follow Taylor as if they’re light-lovingflowers tracking the path of the sun. I know exactly how they feel, every iota of my being attuned to her.

I walk over to where I left the supplies and set up another stake, ramming a fat toadstool on top. Taking up position behind her, I set a hand on her shoulder and call upon my magic.

She raises her hands, and the power thrumming through her makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

She really is a wonder, my bride.

We eat lunch while Storm dozes off, standing, one rear leg locked. When he comes to with a snort and a head shake, Mist says in a mocking voice, “Didn’t you sleep enough already?”

He stomps the ground, the soft grass of the meadow muffling what’s probably supposed to be a more percussive thump. “It’s far from restful to have your entire body straining to fight off deathsleep.”

“True.” The feline fae dips her head, her tone serious for a change. “I meant no offense.”

He offers her a grumpy humph and continues to graze.

I stand and walk over to him, patting his side before crouching to unbuckle the saddle, settling it and the saddlebags to the ground.

“I can travel,” he protests.

I share a glance with Taylor, tipping my head toward Storm, looking for a way to soothe the unicorn’s prickly pride.

She’s clever, immediately knowing what I want. “Oh, but this meadow’s so perfect for my practice. I’m finally getting somewhere with all this space to work. Can’t we camp here tonight so I can keep practicing for the rest of the day?”

“That’s what we’ll do,” I say before the unicorn can offer any protest, then shove to my feet. “I’ll go get more toadstools.”

Storm grumbles, “Well, if it will help you with your magic…”

“It will!” Taylor hops up and goes over to pat his neck, her fingers brushing through his mane. He settles under her touch. No one can deny my bride.

Mist looks on, her eyes sparkling with amusement, but she remains quiet about our collusion, probably happy to be in on the subterfuge. She stands and stretches her front legs out, her shoulders lowered. “It appears I’m on hunting duty again.”

She pads into the forest, disappearing from view, and I follow, returning a while later with toadstools and tall stakes.

True to our words, my moon bound practices through the evening, until orange tints the sky and the slanting light of day slips from the meadow in a steady line of shadow created by the sun dipping below the western trees.

The sprites stir sleepily, their butterfly wings flapping slowly. Their diurnal nature urges them to sleep with the oncoming dark, yet they still rouse enough to cheer Taylor’s every success.

And she has more and more of them as the day goes on.

Yet she still can only use her powers if I’m touching her with my own magic active.

The last toadstool explodes in a burst of red-gray, its true color faded from brightness by twilight.

Taylor lowers her hands and turns, offering me a smile. “Well, it’s something, I guess.”

“You got it to work three times in a row,” I say.

“But only if you’re touching me.” A small moue of disappointment twists her lips.

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