CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO（Untitled）Branikk

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Branikk

I stare at the place where my bride disappeared. Worry gnaws at me. She seemed upset. "Something's wrong."

"Clearly." Aurora tosses her head.

"Please," I say. "No teasing. Not about this."

Aurora snuffles at the side of my head. "I'm sorry, my friend. I meant no harm."

"I know you didn't." I pat her neck. She and I usually banter and poke fun with the long familiarity of years of companionship. But whatever's happening with Grace is no laughing matter.

I step as close to the rhododendron as possible. It's about six-feet tall and wide, and I can see over the top, but Grace remains out of sight. Yet not out of hearing, and there's no rustle of clothing that indicates she's actually using the bathroom.

It's quiet for so long I want to storm around the bush and demand to know what's wrong. I take an impatient step forward.

Aurora's horn swoops down and blocks me.

"Out of my way."

"You want me to be serious? Here I am, being serious," my friend whispers. "This isn't about you and your usual impatience. This is about Grace."

I bristle. "I'm a fine hunter."

"Certainly, but that's different. That's not people. With people, you rush ahead, throwing your charm all over the damned place."

I grunt, unwilling to admit she has a point. I get my enthusiastic nature from my mother. It usually works, but there are some people who find our approach… a bit much.

"Your bride obviously wanted time alone." My friend bats me with her horn. "You should respect that."

Grinding my teeth, I growl, then offer her a quick nod.

And thank the goddess for good friends, because what I hear next is my bride laugh at something Rune says.

My shoulders drop in relief.

When she returns, she carries a new creation, a pink feline made of a glossy material.

"What is it?" I ask eagerly. What has her amazing magic made this time?

One side of her wide mouth ticks up in a wry smile. "Nothing to get excited about. It's just a toy." She does something to the cat's tail, and tiny transparent globes pour from its mouth, floating as if they weigh no more than dandelion fluff.

"It will delight the pups," Rune says. "And after being terrified for weeks, bringing them delight is the opposite of nothing."

I nod and meet my moon bound's beautiful blue eyes. "He speaks true. Look at the joy the Ferris wheel brought to the pixies and nymphs."

"You really mean that?" She searches my face.

"Of course I do."

The smile she offers me this time is full and wide and makes my heart sing.

I wish I knew what troubled her, but perhaps it was a momentary thing, because things seem well enough when we ride off, her body relaxing back into my arms.

Dinner is pheasant with sautéed fiddleheads and mushrooms, and I feel proud to provide my bride with a proper meal even though we travel far from the comforts of home. Travel rations and foraging never bother me when I'm on hunting trips by myself, but I want only the best for her.

"I'm sorry I carry no spices other than salt," I say, shooting Aurora a teasing look. "I try to minimize how many ‘things' I make my friend carry."

"Bah." She whinnies with amusement. "As if a bag of dried leaves would be noticeable compared to your bulk, you big lummox."

We found a glen wide enough to have a decent patch of grass in its center, and she returns to eating. Traveling hard for days on end doesn't provide much grazing time, and unicorns are so large they need to eat a lot. She's lost some weight on this trip, running hard to get me to my bride, and even her innate healing magic can only do so much if she doesn't get more food.

"It's fine, really," Grace says, setting down the drumstick she's cleaned to the bone. "In fact, it's kind of nice to eat real food. I'd kind of forgotten what that tastes like."

A frown creases my brow. "Humans eat food that isn't real? What's it made out of?"

"Chemicals."

I try to sound out the unfamiliar word, but it still means nothing. I shake my head.

"Stuff like artificial flavors, artificial colors, and MSG."

"It sounds dreadful," Rune says, looking up from where he eats his own bird on the far side of the fire.

"It's not all bad." She grins and takes a drink of water. "I'd sure kill for a Coke."

"Coke?" I ask. Is this something I can get for her?

"It's a drink with caffeine and sugar."

"I thought that was coffee." The other witches love the vile concoction Olivia conjures, demanding it from her every morning.

"It's like coffee but less intense and sweeter." My moon bound makes a face. "I don't really like coffee. It's too bitter."

I grin flirtatiously. "I should have known you're far too sweet for such a bitter brew."

Instead of the pleased smile I expect, my words dim the joy in her eyes, and her mouth presses into a flat line. She stands. "I'm tired."

I leap to my feet. "I'll ready the tent."

Rune's tail starts to wag, his eyes bright with excitement. "If we get an early start in the morning, we can reach the dens by noon."

"Then that's what we'll do," Grace says. "Have an early night with an early start."

Her words and body language are clear. This isn't a night for loving.

My cock gives a jerk of protest, and I remind it that I am the patient hunter, the one who always gets his prey.

I refuse to fail in this, the most important hunt of my life.

After clearing a spot just inside the cover of the blue birch trees, I erect the tent, my body repeating the familiar motions without thought, leaving my mind to ponder other things. I must learn what troubles my bride so I can counter it.

We both washed with the cleaning cloth before dinner and need only chew tooth-cleaning berries to prepare for bed.

I kick dirt over the fire, letting the darkness of true night settle over us. The stories of my ancestors say Avalon has two moons, but unless the Moon Goddess gifts us with a visit, Alarria is always dark. Especially since no pixie lights appear.

I remember something I saw while hunting. "Grace, I'd like to show you something."

She sits just inside the tent, her hands already tugging on her boots. "What is it?"

"A surprise." I hold out my hand.

"I hate surprises."

"How can you hate surprises?"

"Easy. They're nothing good."

"This one will be." I stretch my hand closer. "I promise."

Yet she remains where she is, squinting in my direction but not moving. Oh, right. Humans can't see as well in the dark as orcs can.

I lean over and scoop her up, one arm under her back, the other under her knees.

My bride makes a startled gasp, and it's so like her ones of pleasure from the night before that my cock springs back to life.

Ignoring it, I start to walk to the far side of the meadow.

Her hands slide around my neck, her touch firm as she steadies herself. But she doesn't relax, doesn't melt against me in the way I wish. "I don't see anything."

"Exactly. There are no pixies."

"Okay." She rolls the word over her tongue, stretching the sound out into a question.

I reach the far side of the meadow and turn. The arc of a dark line makes a thin half-circle over the forest. With her human eyes, she probably can't see it against the deep-purple sky.

"Branikk?"

"There!" I point.

A tiny square of light blue rises over the treetops and makes a semi-circle in the air before falling out of sight on the other side. If they're all in one basket, the pixies must have finalized joining into one large flock. Good for them.

"Oh!" Grace goes still.

"See that? Those are the pixies. They're enjoying your Ferris wheel." I hug her to me. "And the gnomes will have ridden it during the day while the water sprites leap from the cars to dive into the river."

We stay like that for a long time, watching that tiny lantern of light rise and fall in the night. My moon bound relaxes in my arms, resting her head on my shoulder.

When I finally carry her back across the meadow to the tent, she whispers a sleepy, "Thank you."

"I merely remind you of the joy you've already brought to this world." I lay her on my furs and pull her close, holding her without pushing for anything more. My moon bound bride is well worth the wait.

Her breath deepens into sleep, yet I still whisper into the softness of her hair, hoping she'll hear me in her dreams, "The joy you bring me."