Page 70 of Bound to the Orc King

I let out a sigh.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing we’re doing is helping with my magic,” I whisper, too tired to do anything but admit the truth. “I can’t get it to work.”

“Not at all?”

“Not the teensiest bit.”

“Then you need to find a new approach,” he growls.

“We’re doing everything this one scroll says.”

“One scroll cannot encompass the sum total of knowledge. There will be other methodologies.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because there’s no one way to learn the sword.” He rubs at my scalp with his fingertips, and my bones turn to jelly. “In fact, the warlords of the villages tend to use different styles. The royal family actually encourages it. If a youngling isn’t fitting in well with their warlord’s approach, they’ll apprentice in a village that fits their needs better.”

“Is that what you did?” I ask.

“In a way. My mother taught me her style first, and then I had a rotating roster of teachers from all the other styles.” Amusement enters his voice. “It was confusing when I was young. Each time my instructor changed, it felt like I had to start all over again. When I finally complained to my mother, she admitted she was doing it on purpose.”

“What?” I startle. “Why?”

He eases me back down onto the furs and strokes my hair again. “Her reasoning was twofold. Learning multiple styles let me develop my own, using the parts of each that best resonated with me. She was right. Once I got to a certain level, changing teachers helped me instead of setting me back.”

Fondness fills his voice as he speaks of his mother. My heart thumps with a bittersweet ache. It makes me miss my mom, but I’m so glad he has such a good relationship with his.

“The other reason?” I ask.

“She said it was a valuable lesson in how to see the world from multiple points of view, to see that there’s always merit in other approaches.”

“That sounds great and all, but I sure as hell don’t know how to apply it to learning my magic,” I mumble, then yawn.

“Sleep now, my bride.” He presses a kiss to my forehead. “We’ll worry about it in the morning.”

CHAPTER THIRTY

Aldronn

May stirs against me as I slowly come awake the next morning, blinking against the brightness already striking the outside of the tent. My hand tightens on her stomach, pulling her back against my morning erection.

She squirms, rubbing her ass against my hard length.

I come fully awake, my cock aching with need. I growl into her ear, making her shiver in the most delightful way. “Minx, do you really want me to take you right here where anyone can hear?”

“Yep, uh huh, completely on board with that plan.” She nods her head. “I can be quiet.”

“I think you’re lying.” I nip her ear, scraping across the delicate skin with my tusks, until she gasps. “And you just proved me correct. You make far too many delightful noises, my bride.”

Instead of denying my words, she wiggles against me harder, making my cock throb in my pants. My playful bride, pushing me in ways no one else ever dares. I love it.

My hand drifts down her stomach, fingers plucking at the fastening of her leather pants until I can spread them open. I dip into her underwear, the callused tip of one finger stroking over her clit.

She jolts against me and moans.

I pull away, playing a game of seduction, even though it’s torture to stop touching her. “You’re not being quiet.”

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