Page 8 of The Orc's Bonded Bride

Before he could respond, the color drained from her cheeks, and her knees buckled beneath her.

He moved without thinking, covering the distance between them in three long strides. He caught her before she hit the ground, her slight weight nothing against his strength. She lay limp in hisarms, her head falling back, exposing the vulnerable line of her throat.

That scent—honey and wildflowers—enveloped him, stronger now with her pressed against his chest. It made his head swim, his senses sharpen and blur all at once.

Mate, his Beast purred, but he immediately shook his head. No, it wasn’t possible. Damn Wulf and his talk of the Old Gods. Damn his own foolishness. But kneeling there with Lyric in his arms, he couldn’t deny the effect she had on him. She was beautiful and brave, and he’d abandoned her to a fate that still haunted him.

And now she was unconscious in his arms.

He cursed himself, his past, and the tangled web he seemed to be caught in. But as he gently lifted her against his chest, as her soft hair spilled over his forearm, he couldn’t bring himself to regret this unexpected reunion.

CHAPTER 4

Lyric’s world swam slowly back into focus, a kaleidoscope of green leaves and dappled sunlight above her. Something solid and warm cradled her body. Not the ground—arms. Strong arms that could crush her but instead held her with surprising gentleness.

She shifted her head and found herself staring up at a face she’d never expected to see again.

“Egon?” she whispered again, her voice barely audible.

He looked different—so different from the young orc she remembered. He looked so much older, harder, with new scars etched across his green skin. He’d been big when she’d known him but he was huge now, his shoulders broader, muscles more defined beneath the worn leather of his armor.

But his eyes… those amber eyes remained unchanged. The same intensity, the same careful watchfulness. The same hidden depth that had always made her feel as though he saw more than others.

“You’re real,” she murmured, reaching up hesitantly. Her fingers hovered near his face but didn’t touch, afraid he might dissolve into nothing. “I thought I was dreaming.”

A breeze rustled through the trees, carrying the scent of her garden—rosemary and sage, honey and earth. The familiar smells anchored her to reality. This was happening. He was here.

“How did you—” She tried to sit up too quickly, and her head spun. His arms tightened slightly, steadying her.

“Easy,” he rumbled, his voice deeper than she remembered.

Her heart hammered against her ribs as she became acutely aware of their proximity—the warmth of his body, the careful way he held her, the slight tremble in his hands that belied his unreadable expression.

“I never thought I’d see you again,” she said, finding her voice at last.

Those familiar amber eyes brought a rush of memories—a younger, less scarred version of him standing between her and danger all those years ago. For one breathless moment, joy surged through her veins like wildfire.

Then reality crashed down.

He had disappeared. Without explanation. Without goodbye.

She pushed against his chest, struggling to free herself from his arms.

“Put me down,” she snapped.

He hesitated, then carefully lifted her to her feet. His hands lingered for a moment, as if making sure she was steady, beforehe stepped back. The space between them felt both too vast and not nearly enough.

“What are you doing here?”

She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly cold despite the afternoon warmth. He’d vanished the day they dragged her out of the hideaway concealed beneath a burned down building. She’d screamed for him, called his name, even as the burly man who had hauled her away had ignored her cries.

He’d been nowhere.

For months afterwards, she’d convinced herself that he’d been dead. That it was the only possible reason he’d left her. Even then her mind had conjured a thousand images of him, bloody and wounded, dying alone in some forgotten corner of Kel’Vara. Those first few months in Lord Sarnak’s household she’d been watched too closely to escape, but eventually she’d found an opportunity to slip away and had immediately gone in search of him.

Their hideaway was still abandoned with no sign that anyone had been there. She’d combed the streets and back alleys, the Hollow Market and the Warborn District, the places she’d once called home, looking for him, looking for any trace of him.

Instead, she’d found Paxton, one of the kids who’d stayed with them for a while. Paxton told her that Egon had been alive the day she had vanished. That he was a fighter now. She’d yelled at him and run away, crying until there were no more tears left. Alone in the darkness she’d finally accepted the truth—he was gone for good.

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