Page 54 of The Orc's Bonded Bride

He studied her face, searching for doubt or fear, finding only resolve. This wasn’t the impulsive girl he’d known years ago. This was a woman who knew her own mind, who’d survived on her own and built something from nothing.

“You’re not asking me to choose,” he said slowly, the realization dawning.

She smiled, a small, knowing curve of her lips. “No, I’m not. Because I already made my choice when I left the village with you.”

He stared at her, his chest tight with conflicting emotions. She made it sound so simple, as if following him into danger was no different than deciding which vegetables to plant in spring. The naive trust in her eyes made his protective instincts flare.

“You don’t understand what you’re saying,” he growled, his hands tightening on her waist. “Norhaven can be dangerous. And Lasseran’s forces… they won’t show mercy. Not to you, not to anyone who stands with me.”

She didn’t flinch at his harsh tone. “I understand more than you think.”

“Do you?” He couldn’t keep the edge from his voice. “Khorrek isn’t the worst of what’s out there. The Beasts that Lasseran has created—they’re designed to hunt, to kill.”

She met his gaze steadily, firelight reflecting in her eyes. “I’ve survived being hunted before. Maybe not by Beasts, but by men who were just as dangerous.”

He closed his eyes briefly, remembering the scars he’d glimpsed on her body, the ones she never spoke about. When he opened them again, he found her watching him with that same unwavering resolve.

“I won’t lie to you,” she said softly. “I’m afraid. But I’m more afraid of what happens if we do nothing.” Her fingers traced the line of his jaw. “And I trust you, Egon. I know you’ll do everything in your power to keep me safe.”

The simple faith in her words humbled him. After everything he’d done, all the ways he’d failed her—she still believed in him.

“We’re stronger together,” she continued. “You know that. Whatever this is between us… it matters. Amara saw it too.”

He exhaled slowly, feeling something within him settle. She was right. Whatever bond had formed between them—whether fate or choice or some combination of both—it gave them strength. He’d fought better with her nearby, thought clearer with her counsel.

“All right,” he said finally, “then we face this together.”

Her smile was like the first light of dawn breaking through darkness. “Together,” she agreed, sealing the promise with a kiss.

The weight of her in his lap anchored him to this moment, to this reality where he wasn’t alone. His entire life had been defined by solitude—even when surrounded by others in the fighting pits, even when he’d finally reunited with his brothers. He’d always held himself apart, convinced it was safer that way.

But here was Lyric, offering to walk into danger with him. Not out of obligation or pity, but choice.

“I’ve spent so long fighting alone,” he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. “Even after finding my brothers, I kept myself separate. Convinced myself it was better that way.”

She ran her fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his face. “And now?”

“Now I realize what a fool I’ve been.” He caught her hand, bringing it to his lips. “Strength isn’t about standing alone. It’s about who stands beside you when the fight comes.”

The fire crackled between them, sending shadows dancing across her face. In its light, he could see every freckle scattered across her nose, every fleck of gold in her green eyes. This woman who had survived so much, who had built a life for herself from nothing, was willing to risk it all for him—with him.

“I’ve never had anyone choose to face danger at my side,” he said, the words feeling strange on his tongue. “Not like this.”

Her smile was soft but determined. “Well, you do now. And I’m not easily discouraged.”

He felt something shift inside him, a weight lifting that he hadn’t known he carried. For so long, he’d believed his path was meant to be walked alone. That his scars, his past, his Beast nature—all of it marked him as someone who couldn’t be loved, couldn’t be chosen.

Yet here she was, proving him wrong with every breath.

“Together, then,” he repeated, the promise settling in his chest like a stone dropped into still water, sending ripples through his entire being.

He drew her closer, his large hands spanning her waist. Time seemed to slow as he looked into her eyes, still not quitebelieving that she was here, that she had chosen him. Her skin glowed golden in the firelight, and the weight of her in his lap felt right in a way nothing else ever had.

“Lyric,” he murmured, her name like a prayer on his lips.

He kissed her then, not with the desperate hunger of their first night together, but with something deeper. His lips moved against hers slowly, savoring the softness, the taste of her. Her arms wound around his neck, fingers threading through his hair as she pressed herself against him.

The world beyond their small circle of firelight ceased to exist. There was no Lasseran, no curse, no looming war—just her heartbeat against his chest and the sweet sigh that escaped her as he deepened the kiss.

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