Page 40 of How To Woo A Warrior Orc

Boner, curled up by the fire, lets out a noisy fart in his sleep, and we both wince.

“I’m not sure if I should reward him for that or check underneath him,” Caelan confides.

“Can you please focus?” I’m used to Caelan’s frequent digressions, but this is not the time. “What the hell can we expectfrom the Elder Forest? What is powerful enough to set all of these pieces in motion?”

His amusement at Boner’s interruption fades, and he shakes his head. “I don’t know. But I don’t have a good feeling about it, not one bit.”

I growl. “I don’t like preparing for an enemy that I know nothing about.”

“We have a powerful group of women on our side. We have an Unseelie prince, one who needs a few centuries of training still, but who’s bleeding raw magic every time he gets upset. We have you, one of the strongest warrior orcs I’ve ever seen, though you’re growing soft from filling pastries?—”

“Caelan.” His name’s a warning.

He laughs. “We have me, whom you can always expect to have a few tricks up his sleeves. Then there’s the Seelie queen, who has decided to get involved all on her own. I have a feeling destiny has brought us here, to Wild Oak Woods, to have some fun.”

That manic glimmer returns to his eyes, and he smiles, the firelight dancing off his sharp Unseelie fangs. “Whatever is building, whatever storm is coming, it will have to get through us first.”

I nod in agreement, because he’s right. There is no way I won’t fight for Piper, or for the future we could have together.

The witches on their own will be formidable, but together, with us by their side?

There will be a reckoning.

“Now, on to even more serious matters,” Caelan says conspiratorially. “What terrible theme should we choose for this event? I was thinking we could have cats as the theme.”

“Cats?” I echo, completely thrown by his sudden change in topic. “Why cats?”

“Why not?”

“I can think of a lot of reasons why not, Caelan. That suggestion makes no sense at all.”

“Carrots,” he says.

I stare at him. “A carrot-themed party. A carrot-themed party with dancing. Dancing carrots.”

“Yes, you see the vision.” He gestures expansively. “Orange décor. Carrots galore. Green headpieces.”

“I do not see the vision,” I tell him flatly.

“You are absolutely no fun.” He sighs, then brightens. “Knife-themed. Everyone can dress as though they are being gutted.”

“You are forbidden from deciding the theme,” I tell him. “You are done.”

“Death and dismemberment,” he continues, ignoring me completely. “There are simply so many ways to have that happen. People’s imaginations will go wild.”

“I will tell Piper we’ve decided on a fall theme.” I pinch the bridge of my nose.

“That is quite possibly the most boring option of all.”

“It’s a harvest festival.”

“Oh yes, and everyone will be simply delighted by the redundancy of a fall-themed costume ball.”

“If they were delighted by a death and dismemberment theme, we’d be right back in the Underhill,” I mutter.

His face falls. “Ugh. I suppose you are right. That was a ghastly event.”

I open my mouth, then close it. I don’t even want to ask.

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