Page 77 of Bound to the Orc Renegade

“Not that I recall,” Mist says. “I took to the trees when I didn’t find anything on the ground.”

“I saw one,” Storm says. “They’re notable.”

“Good eating?” Mist teases.

“Quite the opposite.” He snorts. “They’re notable because they’re poisonous.”

“Maybe that’s part of what helps them protect the violet trifolia,” Taylor says.

“That’s a very smart observation.” Pride fills me anew.

“It’s the kind of lateral thinking I’m used to using for games.” She plants a hand on the ground and tries to stand, but her muscles tremble with fatigue.

I set the bag gently in her lap and lift her, arms under the back and knees. “No walking for you.”

She grins up at me. “You’ll have to let me walk sometime.”

“Maybe,” I growl, pulling her closer, loving the feel of her in my arms. “Maybe not.”

My bride gives a soft sigh and leans her head against my shoulder. She’s truly wrung out by her fight. It had been amazing, the way she cast her power in a continuous push. I can’t even imagine the strength it took. She pulverized the sluagh’s flock one after the other until she freed all of the victims from the soul stealer’s vile clutches. Then she ended the sluagh itself, shredding its essence until it vaporized into nothing.

The second it died, all of the life energy it had stolen flowed back to me. The same should have happened for her as well, but clearly her magical output’s deleterious effect was far greater. I will make sure to take good care of her until she recovers.

And then I will spend the rest of my life making sure she never has to use such huge amounts of magic ever again.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Taylor

Mist and Krivoth find four more violet trifolia in Storm’s mayapple patch.

“Nine’s a nice number,” I say. “Three threes. It has a certain mathematical symmetry.”

“Is that a type of magic?” Mist asks.

Remembering the way I’d stared at all my algebra tests as if they were written in a mystical, unknown language, I say, “Yes. But it’s a type of magic I can’t do.” It’s one of the reasons I became a video game writer rather than a programmer.

“Symmetry or no, nine will have to be enough.” Krivoth lifts me into the saddle and keeps hold until he’s sure I can stay upright on my own. “It’s time for us to head back to orc lands and get the violet trifolia to King Aldronn.”

“Do not forget the unicorns will share in this antidote,” Storm says.

Mist adds, “The cat sith, too.”

“I don’t forget.” Krivoth mounts behind me. “But the dragons gave the orcs the recipe for the antidote, so we go there first.”

We trot through the rowan forest, the purple leaves swaying in the gentle breeze of early evening. Mist roams either ahead or to the side, remaining solid and scouting for us.

Krivoth plies me with the last of the fresh elderberries he picked the day before, telling me he’s not hungry. It must be a lie—he’s huge and expended a ton of energy fighting the sluagh. But I don’t argue with him, especially not when the first tiny berry explodes across my tongue in a wash of tangy sweetness that makes my whole body scream, “Sugar!”

And I also don’t argue because it’s him. With guys in the past, I always had to be careful. If I let them “baby” me too much, it’s like it flipped a switch in their brains and I went from “cute girlfriend” to “helpless girlfriend who can’t take care of herself.” Maybe it’s my small size, but I never seemed to be able to be “capable woman who nonetheless wants to let down her guard and let someone else take care of her some of the time.”

Krivoth’s not like that. He values me and my power. I can let him take care of me without worrying he’ll lose respect for me.

It’s effing amazing.

I lean into it, sinking back into his solid strength and eating the berries from his fingers. I wish we could find another hot spring. I’d love to have a bath—his big body holding me up in the hot water, him running his fingers through my hair. Even my bones ache. I’m too worn out to do anything sexy right now, but god, that bath would be heaven!

The whole evening goes like this, with him caring for me every single second. He makes camp, cooks fiddleheads and therabbit Mist brings us. Krivoth feeds me and tucks me into the furs, holding me close all night.

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