Page 44 of The Orc's Bonded Bride

“When was that?”

“Five years after you left.”

“And a year before I came looking for you.” He growled again. “They were so fucking convincing. ‘Oh no, sir. We never heard of a Miss Lyric.’”

“What did you do then?”

“Orcs were even less popular by then so I joined a group of mercenaries. I was convinced that all I was good for was fighting. But it ate away at me and one day I just couldn’t do it anymore. That’s when I left and headed to Norhaven.”

“And found your brothers.”

“Yes.”

She rose from the log, her legs unsteady as she circled the fire. He remained motionless, watching her approach with an expression of raw vulnerability that made her chest ache.

“So it wasn’t that you didn’t want me with you,” she said softly.

A bitter laugh escaped him. “Lyric, leaving you was like cutting out my own heart. Every day I wondered where you were, if you were safe. If you hated me. Eventually I convinced myself it was better that way—that you deserved someone whole, someone human.”

She stood before him now, close enough to see the firelight reflecting in his eyes.

“It wasn’t rejection,” he said. “It was the only way I knew to love you.”

Her heart thundered in her chest as she moved closer to him. The heat from the fire warmed her skin, but it was nothing compared to the warmth spreading through her at his confession. All these years, she’d built her life around the certainty that she’d been abandoned—that she hadn’t been enough. The truth changed everything.

He tracked her movement, wary and hopeful all at once. She saw the tension in his broad shoulders, the way he held himself perfectly still, as if afraid any movement might shatter this fragile moment between them.

She reached out, her fingers trembling slightly as they brushed against his scarred cheek. His skin was warm and rough beneath her touch. He closed his eyes briefly, leaning into her palm with such naked vulnerability that her throat tightened.

“Look at me,” she whispered.

When he opened his eyes, she saw the same boy she’d known—the one who’d named stars for her, who’d given her his food when she was hungry, who’d made her laugh even in the darkest corners of Kel’Vara. He was still there, beneath the scars and the pain and the years between them.

The realization washed over her like spring rain, washing away years of doubt. This wasn’t the impulsive longing of her youth or the desperate need for connection that had haunted her lonely nights. This was deeper, steadier—a recognition of something that had always been true.

“I want to be with you,” she told him, her voice steady despite the fluttering in her chest. “Not because of who you were then, or who I thought you might become. I want to be with you now—scars, Beast curse, everything. All of it.”

His expression transformed, disbelief giving way to something like wonder. The firelight cast half his face in shadow, but his eyes glowed with an intensity that made her breath catch. She’d never been so certain of anything as she was of the words she’d just spoken.

“You can’t mean that,” he said, his voice rough. “You don’t know what I’ve done, what I am.”

“I know enough.” She kept her hand against his cheek, feeling the subtle shift as he swallowed hard. “I’ve seen your gentleness with Samha. I’ve watched you rebuild my fences and tend my bees. I saw you transform to protect that girl.”

His big hand came up to cover hers, engulfing it completely. The contrast should have frightened her—his strength could break her without effort—but she felt only safety in his touch.

“I’m not the boy you knew,” he warned.

“And I’m not that girl anymore.” She smiled at him, feeling tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “We’ve both changed. But some things remain.”

She leaned forward, close enough to feel his breath against her face. The world narrowed to just this moment—the crackling fire, the night sounds of the forest, and his golden eyes reflecting the flames.

“I spent so many years convinced I was better off alone,” she whispered. “Building walls to keep everyone at a distance. And then you walked back into my life, and suddenly those walls didn’t seem so necessary anymore.”

His free hand hesitantly rose to brush a strand of hair from her face, the touch so gentle it nearly broke her heart.

“I never stopped caring for you,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “Even when I convinced myself I had no right to.”

She closed the remaining distance between them, pressing her lips to his. For a heartbeat, he remained still, as if afraid to shatter the moment. Then his arms encircled her, drawing her against his chest as he returned her kiss with a tenderness that belied his strength.

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