Page 18 of Bound to the Orc King

I rub salt and herbs onto the spitted rabbits and extend one of the sticks toward her.

She takes it readily and holds it over the fire, a bit too far from the flames.

I reach out to show her the right height, and my hand swallows hers as a flash of awareness goes through me at the contact.

“Won’t…” She swallows. “Won’t it burn that close?”

My fingers move over hers, delighting in the softness of her skin. “Not if you keep turning it constantly.”

She nods, and I reluctantly release my grip so I can prepare the vegetables, chopping them and adding them to a greased pan with salt.

“You sure do travel prepared.”

“I have to,” I say. “I spend over half the year traveling from one orc village to the next. We have to camp in between villages.”

“Why?” Her eyes flicker up to my crown. “You’re king. Why aren’t you sitting in a castle somewhere ordering other people around?”

“That’s never been the orc way. Even in Faerie of old, orc rulers always led from the front. We’re traditionally a warrior race, and a ruler who can’t fight isn’t much of a leader.

“Then, when the doors of Faerie closed and the Moon Goddess brought us to Alarria, everything changed for my people. We were fractured, torn in two, with almost half our population left behind in Avalon.” I stare into the fire, remembering all the stories passed down through the royal family. “Alarria was completely wild and unsettled, and we were cut off from the magic of the elves, which we used to trade our services for. Suddenly, there were no farms, no buildings, and no help. We had to rebuild a civilization from scratch.”

“That bitch! Going around and messing with people’s lives,” May spits. “Why the hell did she do that to you?”

“To save us, it seems. When the doors to Faerie recently reopened, we discovered that Avalon, our home realm, had been taken over by a Dark God. That world is now stripped of magic, its fae made over into shadow creatures.” I take the cooked rabbit from her and set it on a pewter plate so I can cook the vegetables. “And the goddess gave us gifts. The standing stones of Alarria provide many of the big magics we used to get from elves. Alarria also has the heart trees, which we use to make our cottages. It’s a simpler existence, but a good one.”

“And you have unicorn allies now,” Starfall says. “That in and of itself is worth it.”

“You’re not from Avalon?” May asks.

“No, the wide grasslands of Umbria are our home realm.”

The mushrooms and fiddleheads cook quickly, adding their scent to the rich smell of the cooked meat. My bride’s stomach grumbles, and I make up a plate for her, offering her one of the thighs.

She bites into the meat with her little human teeth and makes that happy moan again.

The one that goes straight to my cock.

“Thish ish sho good,” she says, words slightly distorted as she keeps chewing.

I grin to see her appetite and use my tusks to rip off a large hunk of meat, the salt and savor of it heady on my tongue. The mushrooms are earthy and rich, and the bright, green taste of the fiddleheads sets off both other flavors nicely.

I finish quickly and cook the next rabbit while she works her way through her meal. By the time she’s cleaned her plate, I add another two thighs to it.

“Okay, whoa.” She chuckles and holds up a hand, palm forward. “Exactly how much do you think I can eat?”

“I don’t know,” I admit. “But I’d rather give you too much than too little. Eat what you will, and I’ll finish the rest.”

“You’ve got a deal.” She picks up one of the thighs and takes a big bite—or big for a human, that is.

We eat for several more minutes, night falling around us.

The tiniest prickle of premonition sweeps over me.

My moon bound falls asleep between one bite and the next, slumping against my shoulder, her hands falling lax, her plate precariously perched on her lap.

The magical warning allows me to catch her. I scoop her into my arms and press a tooth cleaning berry between her lips. “Chew.”

She gives a little sound of protest but does as I ask, and I carry her to the tent, lay her down, and remove her little human boots. May curls onto her side, burrowing her face into the soft fur of the improvised pillow with a happy sigh. My bride looks so good on my furs, and I can only stare, caught rapt by the sight.

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