Page 163 of The Orc's Captive Bride
“Perhaps she’s protecting you.”
“From what?”
“From knowledge that would make you try to stop her.”
The words settled like ice in his gut.
No. She wouldn’t. She knows I need to protect her.
“What do you know?” he demanded.
“Nothing concrete. Just observation.” Baralt’s expression was sympathetic. “But I’ve seen that look before. The determination to do what’s necessary regardless of personal cost. It’s the look of someone preparing for sacrifice.”
“No.”
“Khorrek—”
“She’s not sacrificing anything. I won’t allow it.”
“It may not be your choice.”
Rage flared, hot and immediate, and his Beast surged forward.
Mine. Protect. Keep safe.
“I’ll make it my choice.”
“Even if that means going against her wishes? Against the will of the Old Gods?”
“Fuck the Old Gods,” he said savagely. “I’ll protect my mate. Nothing else matters.”
Baralt didn’t flinch, just studied him with those ancient silver eyes.
“You love her.”
“Yes.”
“Enough to let her make her own choices? Even if they terrify you?”
“That’s not—” he stopped and forced himself to breathe. “That’s different.”
“Is it?”
“She doesn’t understand the danger. Doesn’t know what Lasseran is capable of.”
“I think she understands better than you give her credit for.” Baralt leaned forward intently. “Your mate is brilliant. Strong. Brave. She knows the risks. And she’s choosing to face them anyway.”
“Then I’ll face them with her.”
“What if you can’t?”
He’d considered that possibility. He’d felt the wrongness in his gut every time she deflected questions about the ritual.
She’s planning something. Something that requires her to be alone.
“I won’t leave her,” he said flatly.
“Even if staying means interfering with the ritual? Potentially destroying the only chance to restore balance?”
