Page 151 of The Orc's Captive Bride
“It is our honor to serve the will of the Old Gods.”
They rode through the afternoon and into evening, the plains stretching endlessly around them. The People of the Plains moved like water, graceful and efficient with no wasted motion. And they were fast.
He’d thought they were pushing hard before, but the Windrunner tribe set a brutal pace, pushing their horses to their limits, but Thea never complained or asked them to slow. She just leaned into the ride with her usual quiet determination.
She’s so strong. So brave. And she doesn’t even realize it.
As the sun touched the horizon, Rashad called a halt.
“We camp here.”
The Windrunners dismounted and began setting up camp with astonishing speed. Tents appeared, fire circles were dug, and the horses tended. In minutes, a small village had materialized from nothing.
“Impressive,” Egon muttered.
“They’ve been doing this their whole lives,” Lyric observed. “Generations of knowledge.”
He helped Thea down from the horse, keeping his hands on her waist to steady her. She looked tired and there were shadows under her eyes, but her smile was as bright as ever.
“I’m fine. Stop worrying.”
“I’ll stop worrying when this is over.”
“So never?”
“Probably.”
She laughed, and pushed her glasses up her nose. He loved that gesture, the little tell that something was happening in her busy brain.
One of the Windrunners approached, young and female with curious silver eyes.
“We have prepared a tent for the vessel and her mate.”
“That’s not necessary—” he began.
“It is.” Rashad appeared silently beside them. “You will need rest. Privacy. The stone circle demands much. You should be prepared.”
He wanted to refuse, wanted to maintain their independence, but Thea was exhausted and swaying on her feet. She needed a proper rest. A comfortable bed. Safety.
“Thank you,” he said grudgingly.
Rashad bowed in response, not quite hiding his amusement.
The tent was larger than he expected with a carpet covering the ground, a thick pile of furs for sleeping, and a small brazier for warmth. Luxurious by traveling standards.
“This is too much,” Thea said, looking around.
“The Old Gods favor you. We honor that.” The young female—Khorrek still didn’t know her name—bowed slightly. “Rest. We will call you for the evening meal.”
She left and he remained in the middle of the tent, tense and uncomfortable.
“You hate this,” she said quietly.
“I don’t like accepting help from strangers.”
“They’re not strangers. They’re allies.”
“You don’t know that.”
