Page 12 of Bound to the Orc Guardian

I sway, bustled from side to side, then let myself relax back into Sturrm, his firm grip keeping me steady. His bare arm brushes mine in a constant reminder that if I removed his clothes once, I can do so again.

My lips curl.

We ride and ride, the landscape swirling past. After several hours, Sturrm says a short, sharp phrase, and the unicorn answers with a snort and slows. With a tingle of magic, the forest snaps back into focus around us.

“Dios mio, that’s amazing!” We’ve clearly moved much farther than we should have. The unicorn travels quickly across the land, Sturrm shapes leather, and I can heal. Magic is amazing!

We circle around a thick clump of pines, and the trees ahead aren’t like any I’ve ever seen, with blue leaves and silver-white trunks. Sunlight beams down, turning the leaves overhead as bright as a summer sky. I reach up and let my hand brush across the closest ones, laughing as they tickle my palm.

I crane my neck to see if Sturrm is as delighted as me, and the movement makes me sway.

His hand tightens on my stomach as he scowls and growls something.

“Okay, okay.” I turn to face the front. “I’ll hold still.”

He pulls me back until I’m pressed firmly against him from butt to shoulder, and that heady awareness of him sparkles in my blood again.

Carajo, it’s been too long since I scratched that itch. The combination of med school and my volunteer work took all of my time. If I let my grades slip, I lose my scholarship, and there’s no way I can afford to go to school without it. I’vealready got more student loans than I’d like—Miami’s not a cheap city—and ever since Mami remarried and moved to Texas, there’s no family to stay with to save on rent.

But I’ve left all those worries behind. I hold up the hand that healed Sturrm and grin. Here, I’m already a healer. I don’t need med school, endless studying, or the debt that comes with it.

Which means, if I want to have a little fun, Sturrm sure looks like he could wreck a girl.

The unicorn breaks out of the last of the blue trees and into a meadow. I squint for a few moments, eyes adapting to the brighter light. Sun sparkles over tall, lush green grass dotted with flowers and thick clusters of bushes covered in dark-purple blackberries.

As the unicorn comes to a halt, a cloud of butterflies explodes from a nearby patch of white, lacy flowers in a flutter of wings.

“Dios mio,” I breathe.

They’re not butterflies—they’re little people!—tiny pink people with white hair that stands straight up like the troll dolls from the animated movies. Their clothes are made of leaves, and their wings range from pink to purple to blue, all shining with iridescence in the sun.

Sturrm slides to the ground and lifts me down.

As soon as my feet touch the ground, I hurry forward until the pixies or sprites or whatever they’re called surround me.

High voices cry out, full of joy. Several of them land on my shoulders and head, and I feel multiple little tugs on my ponytail. Others pat the tops of my ears and yell, thehigh sound piercing from up close. Are they wondering why they’re not pointed like Sturrm’s?

One tiny woman flies over to hover directly in front of my face. She asks me a question.

“I’m sorry.” I shake my head, causing more shrieks from those clinging to me. “I don’t understand you.”

She makes exaggerated motions toward the berry bushes, and my stomach rumbles, reminding me I missed breakfast.

I glance over at Sturrm, but he’s digging inside the pack hanging from the saddle with his back to me. I’ll surprise him by bringing him back some berries, show him I’m willing to help out.

With a nod, I follow her over to the bushes. The little faeries hanging from me take off and fly ahead, and soon the entire bunch of them flutter in a swirl over the berries, magic sparkling off their wings in a fall of glitter as magic tingles through the air.

The little butterfly woman brings me a berry, and I bite into it right as Sturrm yells angrily behind me.

CHAPTER SIX

Sturrm

“Sprites!” Dash says, sounding delighted.

“Nuisances, the lot of them,” I growl and rummage through my travel bag. I packed light for this trip, leaving most of my supplies back at the dragon clearing to prioritize speed over comfort. Yet that leaves me with little to offer Selena.

Warrior training means I’m used to going without sleep or food. I can do so for several days if needed. Humans aren’t orcs, though. They’re far more fragile. She’ll need food and sleep. I pull out a wrapped piece of hardtack and turn—

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