Page 120 of That’s My Orc, Tusk Off

Fred’s grumble dropped to a lower register.

Amanda’s crown brightened, casting pink light across the deck.

Willa’s hand found mine, our fingers threading together.

The mark on my wrist caught the slanted sunlight, silver against green skin.

Only a few weeks until the Council decided. Right now, it didn’t matter. I had this. Her hand in mine. Fred grumbling. Amanda’s crown glowing. A rumbleback drinking from the trough while the sun set behind the trees.

I squeezed her hand.

She squeezed back.

We sat on the deck and watched the rumbleback lumber back into the woods.

Somewhere in the kingdom, my parents were reading the scribe’s report. Deciding whether Willa’s hand in mine, Fred’s grumbling, and the space we’d built together was good enough by their standards.

Willa traced circles on the back of my hand.

Let them send their verdict. Let them try to take this.

I wasn’t letting go.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

WILLA

Three weeks since the scribe had left, and I was elbow-deep in cookie dough when Fred decided the kitchen counter was his personal obstacle course. He bobbed past the flour canister, his wings a blur. His trajectory veered left. He smacked into the open cupboard door with a solid thunk and rebounded toward the mixing bowl.

“Fred, no⁠—”

Too late. He clipped the edge of the bowl. It spun and lunged toward the edge, and I caught it before it could tip.

From the windowsill, Amanda hissed, brandishing her stick like she was commanding an army. She slashed it through the air, her crown flaring orange-red.

“I know, I know,” I told her. “He’s a menace.”

Fred grumbled and aimed for the cupboard again.

A yellow-and-pink glow pulsed from the corner near the refrigerator.

I turned my head slowly. “How did you get in here?”

Nix’s stripes brightened with each second, building charge like a living battery. His eyes locked on mine.

“Don’t you dare,” I said.

He chittered.

“Nix. I mean it. If you discharge in my kitchen⁠—”

He launched.

I dropped the spoon and threw my hands up. “No!”

The fizzling shot past me, ricocheted off the wall, and landed on top of the cookie container. A small shock jumped from him to the metal lid. The lid rattled.

Fred grumbled louder.