“I do. The texts are clear. The lunar alignment. The magical convergence. It all points to the same date.”
Khorrek wanted to argue. Wanted to refuse. Wanted to grab her and run and never stop running.
But she was right. He could see it in her eyes. Hear it in her voice.
Certain. Absolutely certain.
“I won’t let you go alone.”
“I know.” Small smile. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”
“We’ll need an army.”
“We’ll need to be smart.” Lyric spoke up. “Lasseran will be expecting an assault. We can’t give him what he expects.”
Egon had entered the tent. Had been listening. “A small team. Fast. Precise.”
“Suicide mission,” Khorrek said flatly.
“Probably.” Egon’s expression was calm. “But necessary.”
Her hand tightened on his chest. “I won’t ask you to come.”
“You’re not asking me. I’m telling you. Where you go, I go.”
“Even if it means facing Lasseran again? Even if it means?—”
“Especially then.” He covered her hand with his. “You’re my mate, and I’m not letting you walk into danger alone.”
She blinked rapidly, her eyes suspiciously bright.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. We might all die.”
“Ever the optimist.” But she was smiling. Small. Genuine.
Lyric exchanged a look with Egon. Something passed between them. Silent communication.
“We’ll go with you,” Lyric said.
“What?” Egon’s head snapped toward her. “Lyric, no. This is?—”
“Necessary. You know it is.” Lyric’s voice was gentle but firm. “Thea will need help with the ritual at the stone circle. I’m the only other one who can sense the ley lines and who understands the magical flow.”
“Then I’ll go with you to the stone circle. But Kel’Vara?—”
“Is where I’m needed too. The Old Gods are moving through this. Through all of us. I can feel it.”
Egon’s scarred face twisted. Conflict written in every line. But he didn’t argue. Just reached for her. Pulled her close.
“Stubborn woman.”
“You knew that when you mated me.”
“Thought you’d develop better survival instincts.”
“I have excellent survival instincts. That’s why I’m taking a massive terrifying orc warrior with me.”