Page 166 of The Orc's Captive Bride
She shook her head, unable to force the words past the lump in her throat.
“He’ll be furious,” Lyric said.
“I know.”
“Heartbroken.”
“I know.”
“But you’re doing it anyway.”
“Yes.”
Lyric’s smile was gentle, understanding.
“Good. That’s what makes you perfect for this. You understand the cost. The weight of sacrifice. And you choose it anyway.”
“I don’t feel perfect. I feel terrified.”
“Fear and courage aren’t opposites. They’re companions.” Jaella said steadily, ancient wisdom wrapped in kindness. “True bravery isn’t the absence of fear. It’s acting despite it.”
“I’m not brave. I’m just… desperate.” She pushed her glasses up again. “Lasseran will destroy them, all of them, unless the balance is restored. Unless someone stops him.”
“And you believe you’re that someone.”
“The runes called me here. Pulled me through the portal. Gave me the knowledge I needed.” She looked at her hands. Calloused from holding reins. Stained with ink from endless studying. “I have to believe there’s a reason. That I’m meant to do this.”
“You are,” Lyric said quietly. “I’ve seen it. You’re the key, Thea. The one who can restore what was broken.”
“But at what cost?”
“That’s not for me to say.”
She gave a bitter laugh.
“Of course not. The gods love their mysteries.”
“They love their champions more.” Jaella stood and moved to a small bundle near the fire. “We’ve prepared what you’ll need.”
She returned with a handful of items. The carved wooden bowl Vorlag had given Thea back in Kel’Vara, carved with symbols that now made sense. A small jar of honey, the scent of herbs and flowers wafting from it. A clay pitcher filled with pure water, reflecting firelight like liquid silver.
“The bowl for mixing. The honey to sweeten the sacrifice. The water to cleanse.” Jaella’s voice was formal. Ritualistic. “Together they represent the balance. Earth. Life. Purity.”
She accepted them with trembling hands.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank us yet.” Jaella’s expression was serious. “What comes next will test you, challenge everything you think you know about yourself.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
“I…” She hesitated. “I know it requires sacrifice. I know the cost might be my life.”
“Life is only one form of sacrifice.” Jaella touched her chest, and then her head. “Sometimes we sacrifice other things. Futures. Dreams. The person we thought we’d become.”
The words settled like stones in Thea’s stomach. What else could they want? What could be worse than dying? But she didn’t ask, couldn’t ask, because deep down, she suspected she didn’t want the answer.
