Page 31 of Bound to the Orc King

“What is it?” I reach out and touch his forearm.

“I just realized my premonition magic gave me no warning of the goddess’s attack.” He scrubs a hand over his head. “It doesn’t always give me much of a warning, but it’s never failed me completely before.”

“Maybe because she’s, you know, agoddess?”

“Perhaps.” His lips twist, and he doesn’t sound convinced.

It makes me want to ask about something I’ve been worrying about. “So… your magic…” My finger traces little designs on my thigh. “Except for this instance, it always works like you want?”

“Always,” he says. “Why do you ask?”

“Because mine doesn’t,” I let out in a rush. “Do what I want, I mean. It comes when I don’t want it and refuses to work when I do. It’s a fucking mess.” Just like me. I can’t bring myself to admit that last part out loud.

“You’re being unrealistic,” he says gruffly. “You just got your magic. I grew up with mine. It’s always been part of me for as long as I can remember. You can’t compare thirty-six years of experience to a handful of days.”

My mouth falls open as shock ripples through me. I’m so used to everyone always assuming I’ve messed up that I’ve started preemptively declaring myself a failure.

But he’s got a point. If anyone else I knew got magic, I’d tell them they deserved time to learn how to use it.

So why not offer myself that same grace?

“Thank you.” I grin at him. “You’re right.”

“I feel as if I should write that down.” He pretends his palm is a piece of paper and mimes writing on it. “On this historicoccasion, let it be recorded that May declared Aldronn correct about something.”

Leaning over, I pretend to add an extra line. “But only about thisonething.” I laugh at his mock scowl until it turns into a grin, his lips curling with amusement.

Firelight plays over his features, which are always handsome, but when you add in that smile… Whew. He becomes freaking irresistible.

And he’s thirty-six! I knew he was older—he’s got that sexy self-assurance some guys get—but I wasn’t sure by how much. God, the experience he must have… No wonder he ate me out so well in my dream.

Aldronn catches me staring, and his smirk becomes even more wicked and knowing.

My thighs clench, and I sway toward him…

“Pizza!” a high voice yells.

I bolt upright. “What the hell?”

Glowing blue dots stream into the clearing, growing in size as they get closer.

“Oh. My. God.” I gape as the tiny winged people circle our heads, reminding me of the stories Mom used to tell. “Are those pixies?”

“Yes,” Aldronn says, sounding resigned.

Everything about them is light blue, from their skin to their birch-leaf clothes to their wings, which I can now see resemble the solid colors found on moths more than the patterns that usually decorate butterflies. They’re about the size of my hand with my fingers spread wide, and they’re freaking adorable!

“Pizza!” one of the tiny men calls out in a high-pitched voice. “Are you the one called Pizza?”

“Uh.” I widen my eyes at Aldronn in a “what the hell” look.

“She isn’t Pizza. That’s a different human witch.” He glances at me. “Olivia, the first witch brought to Alarria, can conjure food. She lives in Moon Blade Village.”

A chorus of disappointed noises fills the air.

I hold up my plate. “I don’t have pizza, but I have home fries!”

“Are those a type of pizza?” The pixie flies closer, inspecting the potatoy goodness. Then he scowls. “It’s not shaped right! It can’t be pizza!”

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