Page 6

Aldronn

I expected more protest, more demands of explanation, so my bride’s eagerness to explore catches me off guard.

Almost as much as learning she can read minds.

By the goddess, it’s an amazing power. She’ll be able to read any foe’s thoughts, allow us to counter any attack. With her by my side, I’ll be able to keep my people safer than ever.

Yet what will it mean for me, for us ? I’ve never shared the true intimacy of my innermost thoughts with a woman—or with anyone, for that matter. Yet May is my moon bound, my queen. If there’s one person I can share my true self with, it will be her. Still, whispered pillow talk is a far cry from her reading every stray thought that might cross my mind. And what will she think if she discovers my inability to love?

I don’t like feeling this exposed.

I am the rock my people depend upon. I am their king. My responsibilities were made clear from childhood. Letting anyone see me as less…

No, I cannot bear it.

“Are you reading my mind even now?” I ask.

“Why, are you thinking something dirty?” Her sparkling eyes laugh up at me.

Normally, I’d flirt right back, but nothing about today is normal. I step closer, looming over her until her head tips backward so she can meet my eyes. I enunciate each word carefully, filling my voice with power and command. “Are you reading my mind?”

May grips her pendant, her lips giving a little twist. Her body vibrates with effort for several seconds. Then she lets out a huff and drops her hand. “Nope. Your dirty, filthy thoughts are safe.”

I want to growl that I do think of other things besides sex, yet her words call those very thoughts into being. Will her eyes flash with such fire when I take her? What noises will she make when I lick her to orgasm? How much teasing will it take to make her beg?

Because I long to make this woman beg.

My cock stirs, ready to find out, and a shiver of magic comes from the magical stud mounted over the top, as if it already knows what shape to take to bring my bride extra pleasure.

A smirk curls my lips. It seems I’m not the only one with dirty, filthy thoughts.

Her breath hitches and she nibbles on her lower lip as the air between us crackles with tension.

“Oh, this is going to be so fun,” Starfall says sarcastically, raising her head from where she’s been cleaning her horn on the moss. Then she pokes my shoulder with its sharp tip, just a little too hard to be playful. “Don’t you dare try to have sex on my back. I will not be amused.”

I open my mouth to protest that I only tried that once, many, many years ago as a youth, but I’m stopped by the sweetest of sounds.

May bursts out laughing. “I like you, Starfall. You’re my kind of gal if you don’t take any shit from this one.” She cocks a thumb toward me.

My old friend whinnies a laugh and tosses her mane, clearly delighted.

“I see how it’s going to be,” I say, pretending grumpiness while secretly pleased. Starfall’s so outspoken, even for a unicorn, that she doesn’t make friends easily. I’m glad to see her get along with my bride. “The two of you ganging up on me.”

They share a conspiratorial glance.

“Shall we?” Without waiting for a reply, I grip May’s waist and lift her into the saddle.

She lets out a cry of surprise that turns into delight as she flings her leg over the unicorn’s back and takes her seat.

Then I’m up behind her. Orc saddles are large to accommodate our great size, yet even so, they aren’t designed for two. My moon bound presses deliciously close to me.

As Starfall springs forward into a brisk trot, my hand splays across my bride’s stomach, holding her tightly. My thighs hug May’s, her lovely bottom thrust against my crotch.

By the goddess, she’s right.

All my thoughts are indeed dirty and filthy.

May asks a constant stream of questions as we ride through the forest, amazed by everything.

Golden larks take to the air, their yellow wings flashes of brightness against the darker blue-green pines. “What are those? We don’t have those on Earth!”

We pass through a stand of blue birch, the sun shining through their cerulean leaves making everything below seem tinted as if we’re suddenly riding through an underwater world. She asks Starfall to halt. May’s fingers dance over the silver curls of bark peeling from the trunk, then reach for a branch of leaves, so she can inspect their color close up. “This isn’t paint or anything. This is real! But blue trees? How is it possible?”

“Magic,” I say. “Everything in Alarria is alive with magic. I never fully realized how different a place could be until I went through the door to Earth and felt what a magicless land was like.”

“You’ve been to Earth?” She twists to look over her shoulder at me.

“To your hometown, even. Ferndale Falls.”

“You’re shitting me.”

I frown. “I assure you I have full control over my bowels.”

“What?” She bursts into laughter, waving a hand in the air as she leans forward, shoulders shaking. When she finally regains a modicum of composure, she says, “I didn’t mean literally! It’s a colloquialism. It means you’re pulling my leg.”

I narrow my eyes. “Since I’m doing no such thing to any of your body parts…”

“Yep! You got me!” Her eyes sparkle. “Another idiom. English is full of them!”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re going to use every single one you can think of?”

“Because you’re not just a pretty face?”

“Pretty? I’m no such thing.” Though a part of me is pleased she finds my features attractive.

Starfall gives an amused snort. “I like you, human. It’s about time someone talked to him like that.”

“ You talk to me like that,” I growl.

“Indeed, I do. But I’m the only one.” She tosses her mane. “It’s good to have company.”

“No problem.” May pats the unicorn’s withers. “I’m more than happy to help take him down a peg or two.”

“Another idiom?” I growl, fighting to keep from smiling. Starfall’s right. I can’t remember the last time anyone else teased me. It’s been years, perhaps a decade, even. When did I get so… stodgy? I always thought my cousin Wranth was the grumpy one.

“But for real, you were in Ferndale Falls?” May asks as Starfall starts forward again.

“Yes,” I say. “I helped defend it from a sluagh attack.”

“Slew ahh?” She asks, breaking the word apart into phonetic syllables. “What’s that?”

“It’s one of the most dangerous types of fae.” I tell her about the darker side of Faerie, one with ogres and kelpies and soul stealers who eat your life and trap you as one of their victims for an eternity.

The longer I talk, the stiller May grows in my arms. I don’t even make it to discussing our new foe, the dark fae, before I can’t bear it any longer. “I don’t want to tell you only the bad, for there is much of beauty and joy here, too.”

“My mom used to tell me stories of Faerie. Everything was pixies and parties and magic and fairy cakes.” She glances over her shoulder at me. “You don’t have any fairy cakes, do you?”

“Alas, I do not.” My arm tightens around her as I lean back and delve into a saddlebag. I hate that she’s hungry and I’ve done nothing to alleviate it. I’ve traveled hard for days, not stopping to hunt, living on travel rations. Now that I know she’s safe, I need to ensure better food for our return trip. “I will hunt for our dinner if you can make do with this for now.”

She takes the hardtack from me and nibbles at the tough biscuit, her tiny human teeth unable to bite through it like my tusks can. Yet my bride doesn’t complain. “Mmm. It’s like a savory, nutty cookie. I like it.”

We ride on, finding a clearing filled with elderberry bushes. Sunlight glints off clusters of tiny white flowers mixed with clumps of tiny dark-purple berries, the bushes caught in the mixed state of both spring and late summer instead of following the smooth march of time found in the human world.

The tiny sweet-tart balls crunch between May’s teeth, and she gives me a happy grin as she eats. “I love these. I know you’re not supposed to eat too many of them raw, but I can’t resist having a few.”

“Too many? What do you mean?”

“You’re supposed to cook them before eating them to break down a pre-toxin they contain.” She shrugs and tosses a handful into her mouth. “But a few won’t hurt.”

“Orcs don’t have that problem.” My hand falls from where I’d been reaching to pluck her another bunch. “I didn’t realize humans were so fragile.”

“Hey! Don’t call me ‘fragile.’” Her eyes spark. “Besides, you weigh about four times what I do, so you’d need to eat a shit ton of berries to have the same effect.”

My eyes narrow. No matter her protests, this incident has reminded me that humans aren’t as hardy as orcs. As useful as my bride’s magic is, it isn’t defensive. Faerie holds as many dangers as wonders.

My life is dedicated to serving my people. But a new protectiveness swells in my chest, more acute and piercing than anything I’ve felt before.

May is mine .