Page 162 of The Orc's Captive Bride
Cleansing. Restoration. Balance.
Words that should have been comforting, but Khorrek’s Beast was restless
Danger. Threat. Protect mate.
“Tell me about the ritual,” he said casually, careful not to betray his concern, but she stiffened slightly against him.
“It’s complicated.”
“You’ve been studying for days. Surely you can explain the basics.”
“I…” She hesitated. “I’ll know more once I see the circle again. Read the runes properly.”
He knew she was being evasive and it only increased his sense of unease, but before he could press, Lyric spoke.
“The cleansing requires precise timing, specific components, and complete focus.” Her voice was distant, seeing something beyond the fire. “It’s not something that can be explained easily.”
“Try,” Egon said, his voice flat and concerned.
Lyric blinked and focused on him, then smiled softly.
“I wish I could. But I only see fragments.” She touched her chest. “The Old Gods speak in riddles and visions, not instruction manuals.”
Despite the underlying tension, Thea laughed.
“Gods, I wish they did. A nice step-by-step guide would be so much easier.”
“Where’s the mystery in that?” Jaella grinned at them. “Faith requires uncertainty. Trust requires risk.”
“I’d settle for slightly less uncertainty,” Thea muttered, still tense against Khorrek’s side. Still hiding something.
What aren’t you telling me, mate?
The camp settled into a comfortable quiet as warriors found their rest, but he remained by the fire, guarding. Old habits and ingrained caution. Never fully relax. Never let your guard down. Vigilance is survival.
Beside him, Thea dozed with her head on his shoulder and her glasses askew and he adjusted them carefully.
Fragile. Precious. Mine to protect.
Baralt approached, silent as smoke, and settled across the fire.
“Can’t sleep?” he asked mildly.
“Someone needs to keep watch.”
“Rashad has guards posted. We’re safe.”
“There’s no such thing as safe. Not with Lasseran hunting us.”
“Fair point.” Baralt studied him. “You’re worried about tomorrow.”
“I’m always worried.”
“But this is different. This is about her.” Baralt gestured toward Thea. “About what she’ll face.”
There was no point in denying it.
“She’s being evasive. Hiding something about the ritual.”
