CHAPTER FIFTEEN

"Your what?" Shock zips through my body, chasing away the warm, sexy glow of our kiss. Did he say bride?

"The goddess matched and married us. You're mine, as I am yours."

I bolt upright. "Married? When did that happen? I don't remember a wedding!"

"We can have a handfasting whenever you want, but a ceremony is immaterial. The Moon Goddess already bound us for life. She summoned me to come to you a week ago, and she brought you all the way from another world to be mine." He says it like you say "the sky is blue," as if the goddess marrying us is a fact of life everyone knows and accepts as true.

When instead it's the most un-effing normal thing I've ever heard!

Married! My stomach twists. Marriage is divorce and Dad leaving and Mom crying every night for three months.

"Married?" I shake my head in shock at the impossibility of it all. "We only just met. I can't be married to you!"

His face shutters, his eyes suddenly so expressionless it's chilling. "I see." Krivoth surges from the tent like a storm whipped into sudden motion, sucking out all the air as he goes.

I stare blankly at the quivering tent flaps and scrub my hands over my face. But it doesn't do anything—I don't wake up. This isn't some wild dream. This isn't a game.

This is my life now.

"What the effing hell?"

To call breakfast awkward is like saying a world war is a little slap fight. Shit is brutally tense.

Storm grinds mouthfuls of grass, the sound loud in the relative silence. Mist's gaze ping pongs from me to Krivoth and back again, even as her body remains perfectly still except for the twitching tip of her tail.

I gnaw on the edge of a piece of hardtack, letting my saliva moisten it enough to scrape some crumbs free. It's slow and arduous without the assistance of tusks like Kirvoth uses, but I don't mind. It's not as if I have much of an appetite, anyway. Though it's actually fairly tasty, kinda nutty instead of the bland cracker I expected.

Words whirl in my head. Married. Husband. Bride.

No wait, not simply bride—moon bound bride.

I clutch onto the realization, pushing down panic to focus more on the other things Krivoth said.

A goddess—an effing goddess—plucked me out of my life on Earth and brought me here and bound me to him.

If I wrote this into a game, it would sound romantic. Star-crossed lovers meant to be, doomed by being born on different worlds. Until a goddess uses her celestial power to unite them.

Put like that… it's still shocking, but it's also special.

And I'd also make all of this mean more than just love. Love's great! But there's always an extra purpose in a game.

"Okay, so I'm your bride," I say, thinking out loud. "Why else did the Moon Goddess bring me to Alarria?"

Krivoth's silent for stretched seconds, then says, "For your magic."

It surges inside, leaping like a puppy eager to play. And I know he's right. My magic feels so good, so essential I can't imagine living without it. I instinctively clutch my crystal necklace so hard the edges dig into the pads of my fingers, but I can't let go. That hollow pit inside me was never meant to be—I should always have had magic, even back on Earth. But it's impossible there, so she brought me here.

All of this is also true, but still too small.

"I'm glad to have found my magic, but there's got to be a bigger reason."

"Many types of fae lived in our home realm of Avalon. Orcs tended to stick to our own, but marriages to elves and others happened fairly regularly. All the fae used to marry as they willed. It blended the strengths of the various fae, keeping us all stronger." He frowns. "We've been a lot more isolated in Alarria. The Moon Goddess brought orcs a handful of elves as moon bound brides a few centuries ago, but nothing else until…" He waves a hand at me.

"So we're not important, but our kids are?"

"Don't you want children?"

I purse my lips. It's funny. As hard as it is to picture a happy marriage, I've always wanted kids. "I do."

"Good. Children are a blessing. All fae have too few."

"But our potential future kids can't be the whole reason. There's something I'm here to do now. I feel it."

"I don't know," he growls, leaping to his feet, his face set into a scowl. His shirt stretches tight across his back, showing the flex of muscle as he lifts the saddle onto Storm. Krivoth's movements are sharp and jerky as he buckles the strap, then moves on to collapse and pack away the tent. "We should get going. We've delayed our quest long enough."

I break off one last softened bite of nutty hardtack and shove the rest back in the small cloth bag Krivoth gave me for it. It goes in the saddlebags with everything else but two teeth-cleaning berries. We stand there chewing them for several seconds, and then I swallow the last of the sweet mint.

He frowns down at me and gestures toward the saddle. "Can I?"

I glance at the stirrup—it's orc height, which means it's almost to my waist. I could probably get up there by myself, but it wouldn't be easy. "Sure."

Krivoth's hands span my waist, and he lifts me into place effortlessly. In a flash, he's up behind me. He leans forward and reaches around me to hold Storm's mane, but somehow, he holds his body away from mine.

I take the hint and grip the pommel, determined to try to keep things from getting any more awkward.

"Think you can keep up, cat?" Storm says, leaping forward into a canter.

Mist disappears from view for several seconds, popping into sight a few yards ahead, bounding forward, her entire body stretched long every time all four feet leave the ground in a great leap. Her size becomes apparent—she moves like one of the big cats, instead of the small domesticated animals I grew up around.

"Eat my dust, unicorn!" she yells, giving her tail a dismissive flick that sets its long dark-silver hair waving like a flag.

Storm humphs and puts on a burst of speed, throwing me backward until I hit Krivoth's chest. So much for my plan of keeping some distance.

My body instantly relaxes, my magic surging as if reaching for his. No matter how freaky this whole situation is, I can feel it—this connection between us.

Husband. Why doesn't it seem as scary as it should when I think of it in terms of Krivoth? The word echoes in my mind as his hand splays across my stomach, holding me in place. I use the excuse of the ride to lean fully back into him.