Page 102 of Orc's Redemption

“Al’fa!” a warrior shouts from beyond the archway. “The patrol has returned!”

The moment snaps like an overtightened string.

Instantly, he steps back, and his entire demeanor changes. I swallow hard, turning away, forcing my breath into order. My hands have a slight tremble so I curl them into fists.

“The human female?” the Al’fa calls back, his voice already hardening.

“Yes. She lives.”

I lift my chin, heart leaping.Elara. She who was lost is now found. The Al’fa gestures for me to follow.

The moment slips through our fingers—fragile, unfinished—but the taste of it burns on my tongue. Wild and dangerous, like fire on my tongue.

His stride is longer than mine, forcing me to hurry to keep up, while trying to appear that I’m not. It’s awkward, but I manage to pull it off thanks to years of practice. When I was a child I had to do the same thing to keep up with my guards.

We reach the upper corridor and step into the arena as a wave of noise surges. Boots scuffing, voices raised in surprise and greeting. The crush of bodies hides her at first. But the scents hit me—ash, sweat, the metallic bite of blood, and the earth-heavy reek of someone who clawed their way back from the deep places of Tajss.

The Al’fa walks at my side, tension radiating from his every step. His warriors flank us, watchful, tight-lipped. A female voice carries through the din.

“I said I’m fine,” a woman snaps, breathless and raw with emotion. “Let me walk. Ihaveto see her. Please.”

The crowd shifts. A path opens. And then I see her.

A human woman, covered in soot and grime. Her tunic is torn, exposing the pale skin of her midriff. Her hair is tangled and wild. There is a fresh slash across her cheek. Her eyes, though, blaze. Not with fear. Not even exhaustion, but something stronger and indomitable. This must be Elara.

Two hulking figures flank her. One a massive, dusky-scaled Zmaj carrying the second, an Urr’ki, over his shoulder. The Urr’ki groans, the first sign that he’s alive.

Looking at them they are a strange trio. Wrong on paper. Unbalanced, but when the Zmaj sets the wounded one down and Elara immediately crouches between them, cupping one face and then the other, I see it.

The way they lean their bodies together. The Zmaj shelters them with his wings automatically, protectively. I watch her eyes flick back and forth, frantic with care. They aren’t just allies. They’rehers.

Bound in ways no treaty could forge, tempered in fire and stone and survival. The kind of connection no Council could manufacture, no war could deny. And for a brief, irrational moment, I envy them.

My breath hitches as I watch her rest her forehead against the injured Urr’ki while the Zmaj presses his scaled hand to her spine as if he can’tnottouch her.

The Al’fa makes a low sound beside me. I glance over and his gaze is locked on the three below. In his eyes I don’t see disapproval or confusion, but curiosity.

“What do you think of this?” I ask quietly.

His eyes flick to me. “I think it’s impossible.”

“Do you fear it?”

“I don’t know yet.”

Neither do I. Because if this—if they—are a sign of what’s to come, then we stand on the edge of something far more radical than peace.

Not just peace. Integration.

It sounds like hope. And yet… my stomach knots. Hope is dangerous. It demands we imagine futures we may never reach. It makes you yearn. Risk. Dream. And I don’t know if my people are ready to dream again. I don’t know ifIam.

The injured warrior shifts and the moment I see his face I recognize him. Z’leni. He wasn’t part of my personal guard, but he did work in the tower and I saw him many times. A good, loyal soldier. He’s gently lifted by two healers and carried away. Elara rises slowly, supported now by the Zmaj, Ryatuv they said his name was.

Za’tan approaches from the side entrance. His face unreadable, he murmurs something to the Al’fa. Then he turns to me.

“They asked for you,” he says. “Elara says she carries information you need to hear.”

I nod, though my heart is rattling from the sight of her with them. Thundering from what it implies.

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