Page 4

Aldronn

Pine boughs smack the top of my head and shoulders as I hunch forward over Starfall’s withers. My unicorn mount lives up to her name, her hooves racing across the moss-covered ground with the speed of a blazing meteorite.

The chain anchored in my heart gives an impatient yank, and an involuntary grunt of pain escapes me.

“By the goddess, exactly how fast does she expect you to go?” Starfall gives an irritated huff. Then she shakes her head in a whinnied laugh, her spiraled horn flashing silver in the dappled sunlight that makes it through the heavy foliage. “Ha! I just swore about the Moon Goddess, using her own appellation to do the swearing!”

“I’m glad one of us finds it funny,” I mutter, but my lips curl into a sardonic smirk. How ironic it’s the grumpy unicorn who’s amused instead of me. But my old friend has a point. Naomi used her teleportation powers to bring us as far north as possible, to a landmark she knew in the Dular Mountains. It cut a good week off our travels, and after several additional days of hard riding, we’re well past all known territories mapped. How can the goddess expect us to get to my bride any faster?

Yet the Moon Goddess always has a reason, and my premonition magic combines with the insistence of the summons, warning me my bride is in danger.

Every other human witch has been attacked upon arriving in Alarria. Perhaps mine will be a great warrior, able to defeat an eight-foot ogre, a war queen ready to battle by my side.

Which would be good, because a familiar roar echoes from ahead, grating across my nerves. Ogre.

“Did you hear that?” I bite out.

“Of course I did,” Starfall snaps, more her usual grumpy self. “Unicorn hearing is even better than that of an orc.”

“Be ready for anything.”

A snort is her only reply, telling me the disdain she holds for my words. She has a point. Starfall has been my mount for over a decade and fought by my side in many a battle. She will be queen of all the herds when she finally leaves me to return to her people, and I couldn’t ask for a better companion.

Light brightens ahead, signaling an opening in the trees. Starfall bursts out into a clearing containing a twenty-foot granite standing stone.

A woman stands on top, kicking ineffectively at the ogre grasping her ankle. The eight-foot-tall gray beast hulks with thick muscle. He out masses me, which makes him especially huge compared to the human.

How dare he touch her! Rage such as I’ve never known washes the world red. Years of diplomatic training fall away, leaving nothing but my warrior self.

“Get away from my bride!” I bellow, heart beating a war drum in my ears.

The ogre lets her go but doesn’t drop from the tall column.

“Get me as close as you can,” I murmur to Starfall. “I’m going to jump from the saddle.”

We first did the move on a dare, a far younger me wanting to show off for a girl I planned to bed. I didn’t need to do it—my title as prince would have been enough for her—but it wouldn’t have been enough for me. I prefer it when they want me as a man and as a royal. It makes our time in the furs far more satisfying for both parties.

The unicorn and I have practiced it many times over the years, and the familiarity of the move pays off. I stand in the stirrups and climb onto the saddle, my knees absorbing the rise and fall of her gait.

“Now!” Starfall yells.

I spring upward from her six-foot-high back, my strong thigh muscles propelling me through the air. My hands clamp onto the ogre’s shoulders, and I yank backward.

The ogre loses his grip, his great mass sending us plummeting toward the ground.

Kicking off the stone, I launch sideways away from his trajectory, so I hit a clear patch of ground. My rounded torso turns the fall into a roll, and I spring up to my feet.

The ogre lands flat on his back with a meaty thump that sends vibrations racing through the ground. Yet he doesn’t stay down for long. No matter how much I despise ogres, I can’t deny they’re tough.

He jumps up, one massive hand pawing the battleaxe from his back. “Orc scum!” he yells. “This sky gift is mine.”

“You lie, ogre. The Moon Goddess summoned me.” My sword slides from its sheath with the high ring of pure metal. “The human is my bride.”

A kelpie gallops from the trees, their dark-green seaweed mane and tail fluttering in the wind of their passage. The scaled equine fae is larger even than a unicorn, their mouth full of vicious shark teeth. But this one runs as if their life depends upon it.

“Face me, kelpie!” Starfall yells, pounding after the water horse. “Feel the might of my horn!”

The kelpie spins in place, rearing to lash out with sharp hooves. “You’ll have to get close to me to use that horn.”

Right as they surge toward one another, the ogre strikes, hacking at me with his axe as if I’m a tree to chop down.

Fool.

I might be king, but I spent my teens in the same rigorous warrior training every orc gets. It’s been twenty years since I completed my studies at sixteen and earned my warrior piercings, and I continue to spar regularly with my guard, who are some of the best fighters in the realm.

His axe whistles down in a punishing overhead blow.

I glide left, raising my sword in a block that directs the other weapon to the right and leaves him open for a vicious punch.

“You think that crown is going to stop me?” he spits, lifting his battleaxe high.

“No.” My lips pull back from my tusks in dark amusement. “I think my sword is going to stop you.”

He lands a punishing blow, the handle of his axe striking my shoulder in a flare of pain.

I ignore it. Battle lust rides me hard, adding fury to every stroke of my sword. The ogre’s thick gray hide might be impervious to most blades, but not my moon steel sword.

My foe is bigger than me, stronger than me—it matters not. My diagonal strike slices open his chest, making it weep black blood.

Hard thumps of hooves striking flesh echo behind me, and the kelpie screams, the word so distorted by pain it’s hard to make out. “Retreat!”

She thunders past, and the ogre leaps awkwardly onto her back, clambering for his seat as they disappear into the forest.

Starfall gives chase, and our long years of working together mean I know she’ll ensure our enemies don’t sneak around to attack our backs.

Pitch-black blood stains the bright silver of my blade, and I wipe it clean on moss before sheathing it.

My moon bound bride waits atop the standing stone, and I finally have a chance to really look at her.

She’s small, as all humans are, but well proportioned. Dark blue cloth clings to her legs and hips, and a short-sleeved top in a bright orange-pink swells over the curves of her breasts. Her skin glows with a warm golden color that’s echoed along the length of her wavy hair, which is a dark brown at the roots that lightens to blonde by the ends.

“Jump, and I’ll catch you.” I hold out my arms, glad to meet her after the doors of Faerie have opened, so she can understand me without needing the magic of the speaking stone.

Yet it seems Faerie’s translation magic doesn’t solve everything. She shoots me a dubious look. “Will you?”

“Of course, I will.” Why would she doubt me? I’m a king! “I just said I would, and I’m a man of honor.”

“Yeah, well, that last guy just said a lot of things, too.” She gestures toward the woods that swallowed the ogre. “All of it lies.”

Why would she compare me to such scum? I’m no ogre! I put all of my authority into my voice. “Jump.”

Instead of obeying my command, she bristles.

“What choice do you have?” I growl. By the goddess, I can’t remember the last time someone defied me. It’s irritating… and strangely intriguing. Women dive into my furs at the smallest twitch of my finger. To need to work for my bride’s approval stirs my competitive nature.

She glares down at me for several seconds before muttering, “Fine.” Mind made up, there’s no further hesitation. My bride throws herself off the pillar with a fierce bravery I can only admire.

I catch her and pull her to me, her slight body fitting perfectly into my arms. I thought I’d gotten used to what humans could look like from my time spent around the witches of Moon Blade Village. I was wrong.

My bride is bewitching, her up-tilted brown eyes beautiful and full of spirit. Good. My queen will need to be strong.

My moon bound bride. I can’t believe I have one. Here’s the reason no one else has ever held my interest. The Moon Goddess knew this woman would be mine.

“Stop calling me that,” my bride snaps.

“I didn’t say anything.” By the goddess, what magic does this witch have that she’s already enchanted me? I want nothing more than to spread her naked across my furs.

Her eyes widen.

“What is it?” I ask. “What witch power do you have?”

She bites her bottom lip for a second, pulling my gaze to its rosy plumpness, then says, “I’m telepathic.”

I frown. “What does this word mean?”

“It means I can read minds.” She cocks an eyebrow. “And you, sir, have an absolutely dirty, filthy mind.”