Page 20 of The Orc's Bonded Bride

He stood frozen for a long moment, his fingertips touching the spot where her lips had been, his heart thundering in his chest. Eventually he made himself move and went to the pallet she’d prepared for him, but he couldn’t sleep. He stared at the ceiling beams instead, his mind racing. The warmth of her lips against his cheek lingered like a brand. Such a small gesture, yet it had shaken him to his core. No one had shown him such tenderness in… he couldn’t remember how long.

The cottage creaked and settled around him, but beneath the familiar night sounds, he thought he detected movement outside. Whispers. Footsteps that approached, then retreated.

He rose silently, years of warrior training allowing him to move without sound despite his size. Careful not to wake Lyric, he slipped his tunic over his head and buckled his sword belt, the weight of the weapon reassuring against his hip.

Outside, the night air carried the scent of wood smoke and damp earth. He scanned the perimeter of her property, his night vision picking out details that human eyes would miss. Nothing seemed immediately wrong, but the prickling sensation between his shoulder blades told him they were being watched.

“Fools,” he muttered, circling the cottage. What did they think he would do? Attack in the night? Steal their children? The old prejudices ran deep, and he’d been naive to think he could stay here without consequence.

He did another circuit, then settled on a stump near the edge of the property, positioning himself where he could see both the cottage and the path leading to the village. He would stand guard tonight. Not because he feared for himself, but because he wouldn’t let harm come to her because of him.

The memory of her fierce defense before the Elders warmed him against the night’s chill. She had stood her ground, refusing to bend to their prejudice. For him. A scarred, broken orc warrior who had no business bringing trouble to her door.

And that kiss…

He shook his head, trying to clear it of foolish thoughts. It had been a gesture of friendship, nothing more. He had no right to hope for anything beyond that. Still, his hand drifted to his cheek, tracing the path her lips had taken.

What was he doing here? He should be tracking Lasseran’s influence, gathering intelligence for his brothers. Instead, he was fixing fences and digging post holes, pretending he could belong in this peaceful corner of the world.

CHAPTER 8

Lyric tossed in her bed, sheets tangled around her legs from hours of restless turning. Moonlight streamed through the window, casting long shadows across her small bedroom. The Elders’ concerned faces kept appearing in her mind, their thinly veiled warnings about harboring an orc in their peaceful village.

She hadn’t planned the words that tumbled out in Egon’s defense. They simply emerged, fierce and certain. But now, staring up at the ceiling beams, she realized every syllable had been true. The Egon she’d known in the capital had been reckless and wild, but even then, he’d shown flashes of the gentleness she witnessed now. The way he handled her bees with such care. How patiently he’d answered Samha’s endless questions.

Something rustled outside her window, and she sat up, straining to listen. Through her window, she caught a glimpse of Egon’s broad silhouette pacing the perimeter of her cottage, his movements precise and watchful. He was guarding her home.

Her chest tightened. How many nights had she lain awake in this bed, feeling utterly alone? She’d built walls around herself even in this village, kept everyone at a careful distance. Yet in mere days, he’d slipped past those defenses.

“What are you doing?” she whispered to herself, pressing her palms against her eyes.

The kiss she’d planted on his cheek burned in her memory. It had been impulsive—a gesture of gratitude for his willingness to leave rather than cause her trouble. But the warmth of his skin, the startled look in his eyes afterward…

She slipped from bed and padded to the window. Egon had stopped moving and stood facing the forest edge, alert and watchful. The moonlight silvered his scars, transforming them into something almost beautiful, as if ancient runes were etched upon his skin.

The villagers were wrong about him. They saw only what they expected to see—a dangerous creature from frightening tales. They couldn’t see what she did: the male who fixed her fence without complaint, who made her laugh for the first time in years, who now stood guard while she slept.

“They don’t know you,” she whispered against the glass. “But I do.”

She watched him for a while longer before finally returning to bed and falling into a restless sleep.

Some time later she woke with a start, unsure what had roused her. The cottage lay silent, wrapped in the peculiar stillness that came just before dawn. Remembering Egon pacing outside her window in the moonlight, she slipped from her bed, pulling a shawl around her shoulders against the morning chill. Thefloorboards creaked beneath her bare feet as she approached her bedroom door. Pushing it open just enough to peer through, she froze.

The pallet she’d made for him beside the hearth lay empty, blankets neatly folded.

Her heart sank. He’d left without saying goodbye—just like before. A familiar hollowness spread through her chest, the same emptiness she’d felt years ago when he disappeared.

“Not again,” she whispered, pushing the door wider, her eyes fixed on the abandoned sleeping space. After everything—after the way she’d defended him to the Elders, after that impulsive kiss—he’d simply vanished. Perhaps he’d decided the village’s suspicion wasn’t worth enduring, or perhaps he’d never intended to stay at all.

She wrapped her arms around herself, fighting against the ache of disappointment. She’d been a fool to let herself believe things could be different this time. A fool to imagine that the connection between them might be strong enough to overcome the barriers of their separate worlds.

“I should have known,” she murmured, moving toward the cold hearth.

Her fingers traced the edge of the folded blanket, catching a hint of his familiar scent. Had he left during the night after guarding her home? Or waited until first light to slip away unnoticed?

It didn’t matter. The result was the same. Once again, she stood alone in a space that suddenly felt too large, too quiet.

She sank onto the pallet, pulling one of the blankets around her shoulders and breathing in his scent. Closing her eyes,she allowed herself one moment of weakness, one moment to acknowledge how much his presence had meant to her.

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