Page 152 of The Orc's Captive Bride
“I do.” She crossed to him and put her hands on his chest. “The same way I knew we needed to go to the stone circle. The same way I know the ritual will work.”
“Your Old Gods again.”
“Yes.”
He wanted to argue, wanted to demand proof and a rational explanation, but he’d learned better over the past weeks. Her instincts were never wrong, even when he didn’t understand them.
He pulled her close and buried his face in her hair, breathing in her scent. Clean and sweet despite the long ride.
“I’m terrified I’ll fail you,” he admitted quietly. “That I won’t be able to protect you.”
“You won’t fail. You couldn’t.” Her arms wrapped around him. “You’re the strongest person I know.”
“I’m a weapon Lasseran forged. Nothing more.”
“You’re wrong. You’re so much more.” She pulled back and met his eyes. “You’re the orc who chose freedom. Who broke his conditioning and is fighting for what’s right instead of what was ordered.”
“Thea—”
“You’re my mate. My partner. My love,” she said fiercely. “And I trust you with my life.”
He kissed her hard, claiming her, and she melted into him, accepting his claim. And for a moment, the fear receded.
The Windrunners shared the evening meal gathered around a large fire, swapping stories and laughter. He watched them, studying their dynamics. They moved like a pack with each person knowing their role, but there was also warmth and genuine affection. Family, or perhaps chosen family.
Something he’d never had until Thea.
Rashad sat beside him, uninvited but not unwelcome.
“Your mate is remarkable.”
His Beast stirred protectively.
“Yes.”
“The knowledge she carries. The power flowing through her.” Rashad’s silver eyes were thoughtful. “Does she understand what she is?”
“A scholar. A linguist.”
“A vessel. Chosen by the Old Gods to restore balance.” Rashad smiled. “But yes. Also a scholar.”
He didn’t respond as he watched her across the fire. She was talking to Lyric, excited about something. She was beautiful, her hair turning to copper flames in the firelight.
“You fear for her,” Rashad observed.
“Of course I fear for her. We’re riding toward almost certain death.”
“Perhaps. Or perhaps toward destiny.”
“Destiny is just another word for fate. And I don’t believe in fate.”
“No?” Rashad’s smile widened. “Then how do you explain the mate bond? The perfect matching of souls across time and space?”
He had no answer for that, because the mate bond was inexplicable. He’d never believed in it, and yet now it was the most real thing in his life.
“The Old Gods work in mysterious ways,” Rashad said. “But they always work toward balance. Harmony. The greater good.”
“And if Thea gets hurt in service of that greater good?”
