Page 69 of Bound to the Orc Warrior

I tighten my grip and snarl down at him.

“Please! Please don’t kill me, dark fae.” His body trembles with true fear as he clutches his hands together and tries to fall to his knees.

I keep him standing, even though his terror makes me feel horribly uncomfortable. “I am an honorable orc warrior,” I growl, sliding my knife back into its sheath. “I will not harm you without cause.”

“Orc?” His eyes widen, and he leans over to sniff at my hand. “Orc! Blessed Titania, how are you here? There are no more orcs in Avalon.”

“But that’s impossible.” The words burst from me. The Moon Goddess took many villages’ worth of orcs to Alarria three-hundred years ago, but she did not take them all. Avalon is supposed to have a population at least as large. “There must be.”

“The last one died just over five-and-twenty years ago.”

Naomi gasps. “Wranth, how old are you? Is that when you were born?”

“I’m twenty-six.”

“It’s you!” The tiny brownie looks up at me with awe, then flings himself forward to wrap his arms around my leg, sobbing. “You’re the babe.”

My grip on his shoulder turns into something more like a hug as we stand there for several moments. When he finally composes himself and pulls away, I let him go.

“Tell me everything.”

He refuses to speak until we return to the house, so I follow along, carrying Naomi in my arms this time. For all his short size, the brownie moves quickly, and her human sight makes her footing too uncertain to keep up.

“He knows you, Wranth,” she whispers, her face beaming with hope. “I just know he does.”

“He also has fae hearing,” I murmur, “and can hear everything we’re saying.”

The brownie flashes a smile over his shoulder and keeps going.

“Tell me about brownies,” my bride asks. “I don’t remember anyone mentioning them in A—”

I press my lips to hers to silence her. This brownie may very well be an ally, but there’s too much about this world that’sunsettling. Alarria’s a lost realm hidden at the heart of Faerie. It’s probably safer that it remains a secret for a while longer.

Her mouth opens in a tiny gasp of surprise, her lips brushing over mine. For a moment, I want to damn all the answers in the universe and do nothing but lose myself in her kiss.

The brownie runs the last few feet to the ruins, darting inside with such haste I hurry my steps to keep up.

Since there’s no roof, it’s as light inside as out, the twin moons shining down on a tidier than expected space. Stone walls make up the outside of what was once a decently sized house. The remnants of internal walls mark the floor, their wood rotted away.

“Brownies are not Wild Fae,” I explain. “Their magic is tied to home and hearth instead of to nature.”

We follow him to the back of the house, where a fireplace stands complete with a spit and surrounded by cooking implements. He’s brought us to the heart of his domain, the kitchen.

“I’m Tumbletoad, and this is my home.” The tiny man bows and rises with a flourish, sweeping an arm out. His eyes find mine.

“It was once your home, too.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Wranth

His words punch me in the chest, stopping my breath.

Here it is, the thing I haven’t wanted to face. For as wrong as this world feels, it also feels familiar. What does it mean that I come from this twisted place?

My bride shares none of my trepidation, her sunny nature shining through.

“I did it,” Naomi punches a fist up into the air. “I really did it!”

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