CHAPTER FIFTEEN（Untitled）Naomi

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Naomi

We fall silent as we ride, Shadow flickering in and out of sight as he runs through the trees at our side.

Conflicting emotions whirl inside me. I need to tell my parents I’m okay. I hate that they’re worrying.

But… this is the adventure of a lifetime, and from everything Wranth and the others have told me, I’m here to do something vitally important. I’ve never been important before. Oh, I’m no shrinking violet—I know I’m awesome. Yet it’s the normal kind of awesome.

Opening the doors of Faerie when no one else can? That’s freaking epic .

I don’t have to read about a kick-butt heroine doing something like that—I can be her.

I want it—I want to be the hero.

And I want Wranth.

The way he looks at me like there’s no other woman in all the worlds takes my breath away. Even without the tether, I know he’d never leave me. Wranth is solid and true. He’s the opposite of Matt, putting me first, and I love that.

God, I might already be falling.

Zephyr angles left to round a big rhododendron bush, and Wranth’s arm tightens around me, keeping me in place.

I let myself sway back into him, held by his strength and care as we race through this magical forest.

After an hour, the way ahead lightens. Instead of a meadow, we break out of the trees and onto the bank of a small pond fed by a beautiful waterfall. Moss blankets the rocks that line the rim of the pool, and the falling water shatters into a rippling stream of diamonds where the sun strikes it. The continuous splash of water is peaceful, making it seem like the rest of the world is miles away.

“Oh, I love it! It’s even more beautiful than the waterfall back home.”

Zephyr and Shadow both crouch to drink from the creek that runs from the other side of the pond.

Wranth dismounts and lifts me down before digging the waterskins out of the saddlebag.

As he refills them, I ask, “How do you know the water’s okay to drink?”

“I am Wild Fae, as at home in the forest as either of these two.” He tips his head toward our companions. “Additionally, a leather worker bespelled the waterskins to keep the water fresh.”

“Good to know, because I’m not Wild Fae. Just a plain-old human over here.” I give a little wave when he looks at me.

“Just a witch ,” Shadow says.

Wranth grunts in agreement.

“Does that make me physically different from a regular human?” I ask, a thread of excitement twining through my chest. “Besides the powers and all that.”

“I don’t know.” Wranth caps the first waterskin and gives it a good shake before handing it to me. “Orcs didn’t historically visit your world as much as our cousins, the elves. They liked to toy with humans.”

“Who didn’t?” Shadow grins over at me, the rest of his body fading from view, then snapping back into solidity.

“Oh, you.” I give him a playful swat on the shoulder, but his long hair’s so soft, my fingers dig in. Before I know it, I’m scratching all around his cheeks and chin while his purr adds a bass note to the high splash of the water.

“Humph. You wouldn’t catch a unicorn doing any such thing.” Zephyr shakes her head and stomps a hoof. “We had better things to do with our time.”

“That’s because unicorns have no sense of fun,” the panther says. “Shift forms in front of a human and watch them react. It’s hilarious! They scream, or they stand stunned with disbelief. Most run, though a few want to fight, as if they could stand a chance.” He lifts a paw and extends wicked, inch-long claws.

“Wait. You’re shifters!” I snap my fingers. “I read a whole series of books with big cat shifters.”

“We’re more than that.” He flashes that huge smile again. “Mist says we’re famous in your world. The talking cat with the big smile who can disappear?”

“The Cheshire Cat! Oh. My. God. You’re the freaking Cheshire Cat!” A startled laugh bursts from me. “I loved you as a child!”

“As well you should.” He gives a slow nod.

Zephyr lifts her head from the water to stare at me. “Do you have stories of unicorns?”

“We do! There was a book about unicorns I loved, too.” I don’t mention that it’s a sad book about unicorns leaving the world, though I suppose that’s exactly what happened when the doors of Faerie closed three-hundred years ago.

“And orcs? What stories of orcs do you tell?” Wranth’s shoulders go back. “Surely there are many great tales of our warrior prowess.”

“Um, yeah. I suppose you could say that.” The orcs certainly were ferocious fighters in Tolkien’s books, but the dead white dude got everything else really wrong. Orcs aren’t twisted versions of elves—they’re simply green, and there’s nothing wrong with that.

Wranth stands, looming over me with a primal presence of muscle and power, and my body reacts, shivering with awareness.

Oh, yeah. Nothing wrong with him at all.

“Come. We should go.” His big hands are on me, lifting me into the saddle as if I weigh nothing. Then he’s behind me, surrounding me, making me feel small and protected.

And… I kinda don’t hate it? Or at least my body doesn’t, clit tingling and nipples poking at the fabric of my bra. I’ve never reacted this strongly to anyone.

But his huge size and aura of feral danger combine with the knowledge that I’m also safe with him to create this buzzing cocktail of attraction. I don’t just want him. I want him to…

A shiver goes through me. I’m not quite sure what I want. All I know is it’s something more .

And Wranth’s exactly the guy to give it to me.