Page 75 of Bound to the Orc King

I give him one last squeeze before pulling away to stroke my fingers over the scroll. I have an answer now, a way to try to use my magic, and it’s all because he believed in me so much he confronted Luke to make it happen. I’m ready to be someonenew, someone seriously fun—because, hell, I still want to beme—but also competent, the kind of person I’ve always dreamed of being.

The kind of person Aldronn already thinks I am.

“I want to try it.”

“Now?”

“Yep, now!” I laugh. “Seize the day, there’s no time like the present, and all that other crap.”

We sit cross-legged, facing each other, and he holds my right hand while my left grips my crystal. Right before I close my eyes, I catch one last glimpse of him watching me, his intent eyes shining with pride.

The scroll might have said house, but that’s not what I picture when I think of Aldronn. Instead, a castle appears in my mind. I have no idea what an orc castle looks like, but that doesn’t matter. What’s important is that this imaginary castle matches what I think of him.

Thick slabs of stone stretch overhead in an imposing wall with a small walkway at the top. I float along it until I come to a twenty-foot-tall wooden door. But it’s not a door that hinges open to the side. It’s a drawbridge, and I have to make it lower.

I think this is where I’ve gotten stuck before, in working with Luke. But this time, instead of battering uselessly against the door, I imagine winches inside the wall spinning in place, doling out chain. The drawbridge creaks and starts to drop open.

Yes! I’m doing it!

It finally slams into the ground with a deep thump, and I fly forward, only to come to a halt. I’m not inside the castle yet—I’m in a walled green space. The castle waits ahead of me. It’s made of the same gray stone as the parapet walls, and there are a few bits of decoration here and there, but overall, it’s a handsome building made regal because of its solid strength and clean lines instead of due to a flashy exterior.

An arched double door guards the entrance made of honey-colored wood lovingly carved with a forest of trees. Birds flit through the branches, and animals peek out from behind trunks. It speaks to the love of nature I’ve seen in Aldronn.

The heavy doors swing open smoothly at my push, perfectly counterbalanced.

I step into a marbled foyer as large as some of the apartments I’ve lived in. A double staircase twines up the walls on each side, framing a large archway that leads further into the castle. A ballroom waits to my left, and a massive dining room sits to my right. Both have chandeliers and fancy furniture, the walls covered in richly colored tapestries.

“May?”Aldronn’s voice echoes all around me.

“I’m here,”I say.

“Good. I knew you could do it.”

I expect to feel pride or pleasure, but there aren’t any emotions attached to his words. And as much as I strain, I don’t tap into his inner thoughts.

But that makes sense. If this castle is a visual metaphor for his mind, I’m in the public spaces right now. I’m only going to hear what Aldronn specifically says to me.

I need to go deeper, into the more private parts of the castle.

Floating, I glide up the right staircase to the balcony above. The archway here leads to a long hallway lined with doors on each side. Everything’s made from the honey-colored wood again, the marble and gilt of below falling away.

I float down the corridor and open a door on my right. A young Aldronn stands in the courtyard I passed through to get to the castle. He holds a wooden training sword, his feet in a martial-arts stance. Across from him is an even younger boy, and it takes me a bit to realize it’s Wranth. Other orc kids form a circle around them, expectant expressions on their faces. They’ve been teasing Wranth. Now that I’m in his inner rooms,I can feel Aldronn’s emotions, and he’s angry. The bullies think he’s stepped in to finish the job, leaning forward, eager to watch him beat the orphaned outcast. Wranth expects it too, his little face wearing a resigned look no one that young should have.

But they’re so very wrong about Aldronn. He might be young, but he’s already very mature, years of lessons about responsibility already weighing on him. He repeats the attack the larger orcs were using against Wranth but moves at half speed, giving the younger orc time to figure out how to block. Their swords clack together instead of Aldronn’s hitting flesh. “Good,” he says. “Again.”

I back out of the room as Wranth’s eyes glow with relief.

It seems I’m not the first person to be on the receiving end of Aldronn’s empowering ability to believe the best of them.

The next door I try opens on another memory. A campfire holds back the night, the now-familiar forest of Alarria surrounding us in a ring of trees. An orc works over the fire, his precise movements making the fiddleheads and mushrooms in the iron skillet jump and turn. An orc woman strides out of the woods, a young Aldronn beside her. She holds two squirrels, already cleaned and prepared for cooking, and Aldronn carries one, too.

“Look what our son did!” she says. “His first hunt.”

“We’ll eat well tonight.” The man makes a show of taking Aldronn’s squirrel, threading it onto a spit and cooking it first, praising its plumpness the entire time.

Aldronn’s love for his parents overflows, so strong it takes my breath away, and I see where he gets his generous spirit.

I move through several more rooms quickly, Aldronn a bit older in each—the time he gets irritated during warrior training and strikes another boy in anger; his first kiss, fumbling and sweet; a village meeting where he has to pretend he’s interested,because he doesn’t want to offend anyone, when all he really wants to do is go to the river and swim with the other teenagers.

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