Page 69 of Bound to the Orc King

Across the meadow, the camp is quiet, with only Aldronn and a couple of his guards still sitting by the fire. Sheevora already left with Naomi and Wranth, and most of the others set out to hunt and forage about a half hour ago.

God, it’s beautiful here. It should be peaceful as hell.

The only thing wrong with this perfect picture is me.

I spin back around.

Luke scowls at me, but he shouldn’t bother. I feel disappointed enough for both of us. Here I am—I finally have a teacher, and it’s not helping. I’m still the same hot mess as always.

Then I remember what Aldronn told me yesterday, that true mastery of a skill only comes with hard work and dedication.

All of these people are here because of me. They’re depending on me to be able to free the goddess at the end of allof this. Hell, one of my best friends is burning through her magic each day to make this possible. If we reach where the goddess is imprisoned, and I can’t free her because I can’t control my magic…

A familiar sinking sensation fills my stomach. I’d let all of them down. I’d let Aldronn down.

This isn’t something I can leave behind, like I did college, like I did Dad, like I did Ferndale Falls. Faerie is it—the last stop on the train line. There’s nowhere left to run.

I need to do this. I need to prove to everyone I’m not a fuckup.

Maybe myself, most of all.

I stomp back over to the dragon and plop onto the ground. Luke doesn’t need to prompt me. I grip my crystal, and I try again.

The new campsite Naomi brings us to that evening looks jarringly different from everything else I’ve seen of Alarria. Trees border the southern side, but it seems like even the great forests of Faerie have an end.

Ahead, a wide-open plain of scraggly grass stretches as far as the fading light lets me see.

“Is that…?” I trail off.

“The Northern Wastes,” Aldronn says.

I shiver. It’s been getting a bit cooler each day, but the wind that whips off the tundra is downright freezing.

While I help the others set up camp and cook dinner, Naomi teleports wool sweaters, fur-lined cloaks, and other cold-weather gear from the orc villages.

I wrap mine around myself gratefully, but being warm isn’t enough to get me out of my funk. This is it. We’re at the Northern Wastes, and I still don’t have control of my magic.

Aldronn watches me with concern throughout dinner, adding little morsels to my plate, and cajoling me into eating.

I pick at my food, feeling wrung out, even though all I did all day wastryto do magic. I sure as shit didn’t actually do any.

“I found you potatoes.” He lifts a home fry to my mouth. “I cooked them in extra grease, exactly as you like.”

“Thanks.” I nibble at it. “It’s perfect.” It’s no lie. The potatoes are greasy and salty and delicious.

Since it worked once, he keeps feeding me.

“I’m not a baby.”

“No, you’re my bride,” he growls. “And I take care of what’s mine.”

I go all melty inside, even though I try to hide it. Sometimes, being a strong, independent woman is exhausting. It’s nice to have him fuss.

He goes so far as to scoop me into his arms and carry me to our tent.

Stars wink in the purple sky overhead, and I snuggle closer to his warmth as we leave the heat of the fire behind. The increased cold of the Northern Wastes reminds me once again that I’m almost out of time.

In the tent, Aldronn tucks me against him and pulls the furs over us. His fingers comb through my hair in the way I love.

---