Page 34 of The Orc's Bonded Bride

He nodded. “I’m trying to verify these rumors, to understand what we’re facing.” His voice dropped. “I volunteered. Partly because I’m suited to the task, but also because?—”

“Because you were running away,” she finished softly.

The truth of her words stung. “My brothers have found their mates. Their happiness is… difficult to witness when you believe such joy will never be yours.”

Her free hand came up to his face, fingers tracing the scar that ran from his temple to his jaw. “And now?”

“Now I’ve found something I never expected. But I’ve also confirmed our worst fears. Lasseran is planning to use them against the other kingdoms—to bring them all under his control. My guess is that is why he’s also collecting additional tribute—to find his wars.”

He watched her face carefully as she processed his words. The moonlight cast half her features in shadow, but he could still read the determination in her eyes. He’d seen that same look when she’d defended him to the village elders.

“There’s more you need to know,” he said, his voice rough. “About what I am. About what those males might bring down upon your village.”

He released her hand and climbed out of bed, needing distance to reveal this truth. His Beast stirred uneasily, sensing his discomfort.

“When the Beast inside takes over, we are still ourselves. Despite the rage, the power, we are taught the discipline to control it.” He paced the room restlessly, but she remained silent, watching him with those perceptive green eyes.

“We don’t think Lasseran is teaching them control. He is turning them into mindless Beasts loyal only to him.” He turned back to face her fully. “The males they’ll send won’t be like me. They’ll be hollow shells, filled with rage and pain. They won’t recognize friend from foe. They’ll destroy everything in their path.”

“That’s why you came.” It wasn’t a question.

“It’s what I was looking for.” He knelt before her, bringing himself to her eye level. “I never expected to find you here. Never thought I’d have something personal at stake in this mission.”

She reached out, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “And now?”

“Now I can’t walk away,” he admitted, the truth of it settling heavy in his chest. “Not from you. Not from these people. Not when I know what’s coming.”

He watched her face transform as she absorbed his words. Where he expected fear, he saw calculation. Where he anticipated despair, he found determination. The moonlight caught in her eyes, turning them to polished jade.

“No,” she said simply.

“No?” he repeated, caught off guard.

She stood as well, brushing past him to pace the small room. Her movements were quick, purposeful—a stark contrast to his resigned stillness.

“I refuse to accept that this village is doomed.” She turned to face him. “These are good people, Egon. They accepted me when I showed up with nothing. They deserve better than to become fodder for some power-hungry lord’s ambitions.”

His chest tightened with a painful mix of admiration and dread. “Lyric, you don’t understand what we’re facing. These aren’t ordinary males?—”

“Neither are you.” She stepped closer, the scent of honey and flowers enveloping him. “You said it yourself—in Norhaven, your people preserved the old ways. The true ways.”

Her certainty unsettled him. He’d come here expecting to gather information. He hadn’t anticipated the need to warn the villagers, let alone to inspire resistance. Certainly not to give hope where there could be none.

“We have time before they return,” she continued, her mind clearly racing ahead. “The festival isn’t for a few more days. That’s time to prepare, to plan.” She touched his arm, her fingers warm against his skin. “You know their weaknesses. You understand what we’re facing better than anyone.”

“I’m one warrior,” he protested, though something in him responded to her unwavering belief. “Against how many?”

“You’re not alone.” Her voice softened. “The villagers might not be warriors, but they are stronger than they appear.”

He shook his head, unable to match her optimism. Yet he couldn’t deny the spark of possibility her words kindled within him.

“And we have something Lasseran doesn’t,” she added, her lips curving into a smile that caught him off guard.

“What’s that?”

“We have you—a warrior who remembers what the blessing truly means.” Her hand found his again. “A protector, not a destroyer.”

He stared at her, stunned by her unwavering faith in him—in what they might accomplish together. The weight of her trust settled on his shoulders, both burden and blessing.

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