Page 23 of The Princess and the Orc

Amalia inhaled deeply, steadying herself. The nervous flutter in her stomach remained, but she no longer feared it. She clutched the robe closer for a moment before releasing it, smoothing her hands down her sides.

With a nod, she followed the elder out of the side chamber and into the larger ceremonial cavern where the entire clan had gathered.

The space was breathtaking. Torches lined the jagged walls, their flames casting warm light over the expectant faces of the orcs. The scent of burning incense and earth filled the air, thick and heady. At the center, the elders stood in a semi-circle, their expressions solemn as they awaited her approach.

And there was Drogath.

Clad only in a leather loincloth, his massive form was painted with symbols similar to her own, his green skin a living canvas of tradition and power. His molten gaze locked onto her the moment she stepped into the light, the fire catching on the fierce, possessive hunger in his eyes.

He was magnificent.

Amalia’s breath hitched as she met him in the center of the space, the murmur of the gathered orcs a distant hum against the pounding of her heart. Drogath cupped her face, his hands warm and steady, grounding her to the moment.

“Are you ready, my mate?”

Her lips trembled before curving into a small, nervous smile. “I think so.”

Grithka, the elder who had painted her, stepped forward and gestured to Amalia’s robe. “You must come to your mate as nature intended, unburdened by cloth or concealment.”

A hush fell over the cavern.

Amalia’s fingers trembled as she reached for the robe’s edges. She hesitated for only a breath before letting it slide from her shoulders. Cool air kissed her skin, and she kept her gaze locked on Drogath, refusing to acknowledge the many eyes upon her.

His expression darkened, his nostrils flaring as his gaze raked over her, hunger flashing across his face like lightning before he schooled his features. But she saw it. The raw, barely contained need in the tightening of his jaw, in the slight flex of his hands at his sides.

He wanted her. And that knowledge gave her strength.

Grithka began the ceremonial chant in the orcish tongue, her voice weaving through the space, ancient words binding them to the past, to the spirits who watched over them. She turned to Drogath expectantly.

He lifted his head, his voice strong, unwavering. “I claim this woman as my mate before all of you. Let any who would challenge this union speak now.”

The silence was deafening, stretching long enough for Amalia’s heart to hammer against her ribs.

Then Grithka turned to her, nodding.

Amalia swallowed against the lump in her throat, but when she spoke, her voice did not waver.

“I claim this male as my mate before the clan and all humankind. Let any who would challenge this union speak now.”

Her stomach tightened. She had stood before a human court, bound to Drogath in a political marriage, but this was different. This moment felt real. Sacred. She half-expected someone to rise and rip it all away.

But no one spoke.

Grithka stepped forward, bringing with her a bowl of dark liquid and a length of red cloth. “Now we mark you as one in the eyes of the clan.”

She dipped her fingers into the bowl, the thick, earthy-smelling paint cool against Amalia’s skin as she traced symbols over their joined hands. The words she murmured were foreign, but Amalia didn’t need to understand them to feel their weight, the power humming in the air.

When the markings were complete, Grithka wound the red cloth around their bound hands, the fabric soft yet unbreakable.

“Before these witnesses, you are claimed and marked. May the spirits of our ancestors recognize this bond.”

A roar of approval filled the cavern, voices rising in celebration, fists pounding against chests in rhythmic thunder. The sound echoed off the stone walls, vibrating through Amalia’s very bones.

Tears pricked at her eyes as she looked up at Drogath. He was hers. Now and forever.

He cupped her cheek again. “Are you ready to complete the claiming, mate?”

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