Page 87 of Bound to the Orc Warrior

A deep whomp echoes through the clearing as Naomi and Zephyr disappear.

A growl rumbles in my chest, my hands balling. It will be but a moment before the tether takes me to her, but it always feels like an eternity, with her facing the unknown dangers of a thousand realms alone. I brace as a giant hand hurls me across worlds. All of my practice of previous days serves me well as I land on the unevenness of thick grass with nary a stumble.

My bride and friend stand before me, but now it’s Zephyr who trembles, her large body vibrating with suppressed energy.

I survey our surroundings, looking for any threats. A strong breeze blows across an ocean of grass, rippling the surface like water and carrying the sweet scent of green plant life. A lone tree stands on a slight hill in the distance, but otherwise, we appear to be alone. When I close my eyes and send my tracking magic spiraling outward, it finds only small creatures hidden in the grass.

I open my eyes to find Naomi watching me. She tips her head toward Zephyr and gestures for me to go to the unicorn.

“Zephyr.” I step up to my friend and rest a hand on her withers. The skin twitches, then settles. “Are you well?”

“As well as can be expected.” Her tone’s as grumpy as ever.

I exchange a puzzled look with Naomi, who gives a small shrug, and say, “What troubles you? Does this realm feel wrong? Is something amiss?”

“No!” She stomps her hoof. “Umbria feels perfect! That’s exactly the problem.” She gestures with her horn. “These meadows should have been the meadows of my birth. I love Alarria, I really do, but this…” She pauses to lip at a mouthful of grass, biting the tender tops from several stalks. Then she moans, “Even the grass tastes sweeter.”

“I’m sorry, old friend. I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Yeah, this place doesn’t have the dark feel of Avalon,” Naomi says. “If we think the Moon Goddess took everyone to Alarria to protect them, why did she take the cat sith andunicorns? It doesn’t seem like they were in any danger in their own realms.”

“Humph.” Zephyr tosses her head. “You forget our goddess is a capricious goddess. Who says her actions were to help us? I bet they were in service to her.”

“It could be both,” Naomi says, shooting a hopeful glance at me.

I have no comforting words to offer her. Avalon is clearly dangerous, yet the goddess did not see fit to rescue my ancestors from there. If she had, my parents would never have died and I would never have been orphaned. No, I agree with Zephyr on this—the goddess plays her own games.

The unicorn snorts and tears up another mouthful of grass, chewing with quick, angry movements.

“Where should we leave the crystal?” I ask.

“There.” Zephyr points with her horn toward the lone tree. “It’s an ash. It’s probably one of the original doors of Faerie.”

We walk to the tree, and small birds cheep and flutter out of our way as we go. Once there, Zephyr rips up grass to create a bare spot and uses her hoof to dig a deep hole.

Naomi extracts the crystal from her bosom and drops it into the hole, which I fill in.

“Let’s see if this works like it’s supposed to.” Zephyr lowers her head to lead with her horn and walks toward the tree, passing into it.

“The door!” Naomi claps her hands and beams at me. “It really works!”

“You did it.” Pride swells in my chest, clogging my throat. My bride is amazing and powerful and beautiful.

She’s still smiling as she steps through, and I follow on her heels instead of being yanked back to Alarria by the tether. It’s an easy transition, like stepping over a high threshold from one room to another when you’re a little drunk—a tipsy, disorientingfeeling until you plant your foot solidly on the other side. It makes me realize how much we lost when the doors of Faerie closed. Why did it happen? I shake my head. If the dragons don’t know, no one does, but the not knowing is certainly annoying.

“That was amazing!” Naomi’s joy suffuses her entire being. “Is that what it’s always like to go through one of the doors in the regular way?”

“I assume so.” The corner of my mouth twitches, her delight sparking mine. For all that I dread losing her, I cannot regret a moment of her happiness at her accomplishments.

“As if we’d know,” Zephyr says. “They’ve been closed for three-hundred years, remember?”

“Speak for yourself, unicorn,” Lukendrevener says. “Dragons, being superior, are the longest lived of the fae.”

“Not superior enough to find your dual form,” she snaps back.

Smoke curls out of his nostrils as his eyes narrow and his wings spread wide.

“All right, enough.” My bride stands, hands on hips, her chin lifted in a no-nonsense pose. “We’re allies. Let’s act like it.”

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