Page 67 of Bound to the Orc Renegade

My bride sprawls across my chest, her legs partially tangled by my shirt, which she still wears as a skirt.

“That was most amusing,” Mist says. “Do it again.”

Storm gives a snort of laughter.

Taylor pushes upright enough to look at me, grinning happily. “I did it!”

Her joy is infectious, and I smile back. “Of course you did. I never had any doubts.” Her increased powers make her more valuable than ever.

My moon bound bride throws her arms around my neck and kisses me, and I revel in the bright glory of her and the future we will have together.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Taylor

I practice my “pull” power a few more times. Since I already worked out most of the logistics of my magic while learning to “push,” it doesn’t take as long to learn. I should probably come up with cool, fancy sounding names for all of this, but, nah. This is one thing you learn after a bit when writing games. When you start out, you name everything something like “triple-level attracting power” and end up with a bunch of phrases players can’t remember. Sometimes simple is better. “Push” and “pull” describe what I do perfectly. Why make it any more complex than that? After all, Hulk goes “smash,” and you know exactly what he’s up to.

The best thing about practice is the way Krivoth looks at me, his dark eyes gleaming with pride. A part of me keeps worryingthat, as I learn more about my magic, I’m going to hit that point where he stops liking it and starts to get weird about me being more powerful. But if anything, it’s the opposite. The more I can do, the happier he gets. He truly believes in me and respects me.

I effing love it.

Rolling around on the ground on top of him is another nice perk. I only wish the tent would magically appear around us, leaving us on the furs and tucked away from an audience.

As soon as we land for the fifth time, I call a halt. “I think that’s good.” The furs are soft, but it can’t bethatsoft to keep hitting them, and he’s still injured.

I roll off Krivoth, and he goes to erect the tent just inside the woods to hide it from easy view.

Now that I have a better idea of how my pull power feels, I try one last thing, lifting my hand and calling my magic to me. It springs to immediate life, filling me until I feel ready to burst. I lift my hand and strain toward the pinecone… nothing. I let out a pulse of push, blasting the pinecone to bits and tearing out a divot of the grass.

“Interesting,” I whisper and go over to drop the wide “plate” of grass back into place, tamping it down with my foot. So push just blasts a big bolt of power at a location. I’m not hitting the pinecone, really—I’m hitting the whole area. Pull seems to need something I can latch on to in order to work.

I reach upward and give a good stretch, bowing backward. Night’s fallen with the true dark of a moonless sky, the deep purple decorated with tiny, flickering stars. The small blue dots of pixies flit through the trees, but none come close. I really wish the sprites hadn’t run them off.

Mist walks over to lean against my thigh. “I suppose that’s the end of my amusement for the evening.”

I scratch around her ears, amazed all over again at how incredibly soft her long fur feels. She purrs, the sound humming through me and making me yawn.

“Is your orc going to keep you up again all night?” she teases.

“God, I hope so.”

Her choppy, purring laugh makes me smile.

“Goddess save me, no,” Storm grumps from a few feet away. He lifts his head from where he’s been cropping the grass, his white coat and horn gleaming even in the low light. “I don’t need to hear it, and we have a long day tomorrow. If we’re able to leave early, we’ll reach our destination.”

“You’re right. I want to reach the Skular Woods tomorrow,” Krivoth says, coming over from where he set up the tent. “We’llallhave an early night.”

As excited as I am about finally finding the violet trifolia, a niggle of disappointment runs through me. Sure, I’m kinda tired and sore, but also I’d never say no to more of last night’s pleasure. But I get it. Krivoth’s a warrior on a quest that’s gonna help a lot of people. I actually like that he’s all noble and stuff.

When he leads me into the tent, he wraps me in his arms and furs. The warmth of him sinks into me, making my whole body heavy. I guess I’m even more tired than I thought—a yawn stretches my jaw, and I can’t keep my eyes open.

The last thing I know is Krivoth’s lips whispering over my cheek in a kiss as he says, “Sleep well, my bride.”

I’m not a morning person, but the thought of completing our quest wakes me as early as the others. And thank god I did, because as soon as I step into the meadow and squint up into the morning-pink sky, a huge gold dragon flies overhead!

Even though the exact scale of it is hard to judge from a distance, it looks like it’s the size of an effingbus. Its wings stretch wide to either side, as big as the sails of a large pirate ship. It’s got a long, sinuous neck and tail, and it flies with all four legs tucked up against its wide body.

That long neck coils around until the head looks right at us. With a sharp snap of its wings, it turns and dives.

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