CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE（Untitled）Naomi

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Naomi

I feel like a princess as Wranth carries me through the village. The time at the baths had been next-level. No one’s ever pampered me like that, ever cared so much. From the way he caressed my skin as he washed me to the attention he paid in learning how to take care of my hair, I feel seen and special in a way I never have before.

And now everyone in the village has turned out to greet me, too!

I ask Wranth to set me down at the edge of the village green, and my toes dig into the soft moss as I step forward into Selena’s exuberant hug.

“This is amazing,” I say. “Thank you.”

“Ay! We wanted you to have a proper welcome.” She pulls back and waves at the redhead hovering near. “Most of it’s due to Ashley.”

“It was all of us.” Ashley gives me a quick hug, then introduces me to the tall orc standing at her back. A well-trimmed beard hugs his chiseled features, and he exudes a calm solidity. “This is Dravarr, my husband and warlord of the village. It’s kind of like a mayor who’s willing to kick ass to protect his people.”

“Welcome,” he says, his voice deep and serious.

The rest of the women wait at a long table made by putting several of the smaller ones together.

After I get a quick introduction to each of their husbands, I lean over and whisper to Selena, “Are all orcs this gorgeous?”

“Yep.” She grins and sweeps an arm out, taking in the village.

I look around, and it’s true—all of the orcs, no matter their gender, are a handsome people.

“Maybe it’s because they’re fae,” she says. “All the old family stories my grandmother used to tell always said the fae are beautiful.”

“The books all say so, too,” I agree. In fiction, the fae are always beautiful or terrible, or so beautiful it’s terrible for a human to see, because they’ll become hopelessly obsessed.

“Aren’t most of those written about elves? That dead white dude sure got orcs completely wrong.”

“Thank god,” I say, looking up at Wranth’s handsome features and flowing black hair. “Tolkien can suck it.”

Olivia stands and calls out, “Who’s ready for pizza?”

“Pizza!” A high shriek warbles over the answers from the villagers, and a group of pixies flies in from the right.

“No!” Another piercing yell rings out as an even larger flock flies in from the left. “Pizza is ours!”

The smaller group comes to a halt right in front of me, the pixie I talked to yesterday in the lead. She looks the same, except…

I squint. Oh, god, are they all wearing my underwear ?

They are! I slap a hand over my mouth as a laugh bursts from me. Little sashes and bandanas of bright pink wrap their foreheads or chests. Every member of the flock has some bit of the warmer color mixed into their overall blue.

She jabs a tiny finger at me. “This one promised us pizza!”

“Ha, she couldn’t have!” The other pixies swarm around Olivia, and a tiny female clinging to a lock of Olivia’s hair does the speaking for them. “This human is Pizza, not yours.”

“They call you ‘Pizza’?” I shoot a questioning glance at Olivia, lifting one eyebrow.

She grins and shrugs. “They consider it my honorary title.”

“Well, our human is going to take us to Pizza World!” my pixie shrieks.

Olivia mouths “Pizza World” at me, and it’s my turn to give a sheepish shrug.

“No!” The tiny fae launches off Olivia, arrowing through the air, a miniature sword in hand. Her flock follows, brandishing weapons. “You don’t get to have more pizza than us! We’re the pizza pixies!”

The pink-adorned flock bristles, needle glints of silver flashing in the air as they draw their blades.

The two groups clash in midair in a flurry of wings and weapons. Bloody lines appear on faces and arms. Their mouths widen, showing off sharp teeth that add bite marks to the injuries.

“Oh, shit,” I breathe. They might be small, but Wranth is right. They’re still fae and fierce.

“Halt!” Dravarr bellows, his deep voice rolling through the air like thunder.

The whirling maelstrom of glowing blue freezes in place.

“This is my village,” he growls, “and you will not do this here.”

“How about you don’t do it, period?” Ashley says. “Olivia can make plenty of pizzas. There’s enough for all.”

The leader of my group of pixies flies over. “We can have pizza now ?”

“Only if you stop fighting,” Olivia says.

“What about this Pizza World?” the other pixie leader asks.

“Same deal,” I say. “You can go if you stop fighting.”

They both agree, and Selena steps forward, arms outstretched, letting any injured pixie rest on her hands for long enough to be healed.

Olivia grips her crystal necklace, and several large pizzas pop into existence on our table. She points, and the larger flock takes off with three of them carried by coordinated teams of six, equally distributed around the edges of the crust.

That leaves one pizza for my group. The leader looks at me with a question in her eyes, and I gesture her toward it. Instead of trying to pick it up, they fall on it like a ravenous horde, teeth flashing as little hands rip up mouthfuls and shove them in almost faster than the eye can follow. In less than a minute, not a single crumb remains.

“Ohhh.” The leader pats her stomach, which is so swollen she looks pregnant. “Pizza is so good. I see why they sing songs of it.”

Songs? I bite my lip to keep from laughing and gesture in the opposite direction from where the other pixies went. No point taking any chances. “Why don’t you go sleep it off in the forest?”

Wobbling in the air, almost as if they’re drunk, the little fae flutter out of the village green.

“Our turn,” Olivia says. “Got a favorite pizza?”

“Sausage, red bell pepper, and extra cheese.”

It pops into existence right as pizzas cover every table in the green. The orcs fall to, handing slices with different toppings between the tables.

That first bite is heaven in my mouth, the spicy sausage perfectly offset by the extra cheese.

Wranth grunts happily as he tastes it, and before I can ask if he likes it, he chomps through half a slice.

Yep. He likes it.

I grin and continue eating as the village green fills with the sound of laughter and multiple conversations.

Even the unicorns show up, Zephyr among them, to ask Olivia for oats, while the fae panthers and wolves have meat.

It’s one big happy family, and it already feels like home.

Which is a lovely but confusing feeling, because I already have a home.