Page 30 of Bound to the Orc King

“I’m going to set you down now,” Aldronn says to me. “Is that all right?”

My fingers fist in his shirt for a second before I can make them release their grip. I haven’t been comforted like this since I was little—I hadn’t realized how greedy I was for it. But I make myself whisper, “Yes.”

Moving so gently it makes my heart pinch, he lays me down on the softest bed of moss he can find. Then he stands and whirls, stripping the packs from Starfall with quick proficiency. When done, he sets a hand on her neck. “Run quickly, my friend.”

“As if I’m ever anything else.” She snorts. “I’ll be especially quick without your great weight upon my back.” Even though her words are grumpy, she gives him a nuzzle full of affection before wheeling around and racing for the trees.

“How long will it take?” I ask.

“She’ll be faster with nothing but the saddle, yet it will still be days, and she’ll have to carry Naomi back.” His eyes narrow as he gazes at the spot where Starfall disappeared, lost in thought. “Humans, however, are far lighter than orcs, so I imagine it will be three or four days until they return.”

“Well, if we have to camp somewhere, I’m glad it’s here.” I roll my head until the pouring cascade of water comes into view. “I love waterfalls.”

Aldronn grunts and gets to work making camp. Instead of putting the tent in the glen where it stood last night, he chooses a spot just inside the trees. The tent flaps still open onto the clearing, but the sides and back of the tent are hidden. In no time, he has a fire burning again and brings me a mug of peppermint tea.

He helps me sit up, and I lean back against him as I take my first sip of the minty beverage. The herb goes to work quickly, settling my stomach and chasing away the worst of the lingering headache. I let out a happy sigh. “Thank you. The tea is perfect. Why aren’t you having any?”

“You need it more than I do.”

“Just pour another cup.”

He remains silent.

Then it hits me. “Oh, shit!” I sit upright. “I dropped the other cup! I’m sorry!”

“Don’t worry about the damned cup, May,” he growls, pulling me back to him and brushing his fingers through my hair. “The cup means nothing, not compared to you.”

“I’d say I’ll go back and get it, but…” I wave toward the south, the direction the goddess won’t let me go in.

“You’ll do no such thing.” His fingers are hot on my cheek as he turns my head until I look at him. “I order you to stay in this clearing and do nothing to incur the goddess’s wrath.”

I open my mouth, ready to remind him he’s not the boss of me. But underneath his gruff arrogance lies real concern. So I nod and take a sip of tea—the tea he made just for me—and settle back into his side.

We spend the rest of the day like this, sitting quietly or talking. He asks me about Earth and my travels, so I tell him the fun stories, like wearing a “sexy Bavarian bar girl” outfit while working my way through Oktoberfest in Munich; the camel that spit at everyone who got near it in Egypt; and the way I kept getting the worth of coins mixed up in England until a guy running a fish and chips shop told me off royally. “If you think my colloquialisms are a lot, you should have heard him. I was a ‘gormless git’ and ‘daft as a brush.’ He used the most inventive phrases I’ve ever heard. I don’t know what half of them mean, but I know that guy swore like a champ.”

I take little naps while Aldronn hunts and forages. Lunch is tiny tart apples and hazelnuts bursting with flavor. Aldronn’s so strong he can crack the thick shells with his hands. As evening falls, he makes another delicious dinner, this time of squirrel and more of the pan-fried potatoes.

I crunch into a crispy home fry, giving a happy moan. There’s nothing that can’t be made better with potatoes, salt, and a shit ton of grease.

Aldronn asks for one more story, so I tell him about the awe I felt when I finally visited the Great Wall of China. “You see pictures. You read the statistics that it’s over thirteen-thousand miles long and considered one of the most impressive architectural achievements in all of history,” I say. “None of that compares to seeing it in person, to standing at on top of only a small piece of it and staring at where it disappears on the horizon, knowing people made it centuries ago without the use of technology. When you see it like that, it becomes not just a thing but a story about people and war and fear. But it’s also a story of a shared sense of purpose, of cooperation.” I shake my head. “Sorry, that wasn’t one of my funny stories.”

“I’m glad you told it to me. I think your ability to look past the surface of the wall and see both the positive and negative aspects of its history is a good trait for a leader,” he says. “In fact, I admire you for all your travels. I grew up hearing stories of the other Faerie realms, which my ancestors used to visit at will. As much as I love Alarria, I’ve always wanted to see other places.”

“That’s funny,” I say. “I grew up with my mom telling me stories of Faerie. No matter where I went on Earth, I never felt like I found my place. I think I always wanted to be here.”

His eyes snap with intensity, his body tensing. “Does Alarria feel like home to you?”

“Not yet,” I admit. When he scowls, I add, “I mean, how could it? I haven’t seen one of your villages or how you really live yet. But the magic…” I let out a sigh. “The magic feels right.”

Though I can’t feel my magic right now. Every time I reach for it, a flash of pain burns along my nerves.

When I tell him about it, he frowns and nods. “You’ve used too much power in a short span of time.”

“I didn’t use my telepathy on purpose,” I mutter. “The goddess didn’t give me a lot of choice.”

“When Naomi gets here, she can bring you some of the special red crystals that can help with that,” he says. “You’ll need a couple of days to recover. Try not to use your powers until then.”

Then he scowls, harder than ever.

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