Page 171 of The Orc's Captive Bride
“You can return. Walk away from this. Live your life with your mate. Grow old together. Find happiness.”
For a moment hope flared bright and desperate.
“But—”
“But if you choose that path, the ritual fails. The balance will remain broken. And Lasseran will eventually succeed in his plans. The orcs will fall. The kingdoms will crumble. Everything will be lost.”
The hope died, crushed under the weight of reality.
“And the other path?”
“You complete the ritual. Become my vessel and channel the restored power to return balance to the world.”
“For how long?”
“Until the work is complete. Until the corruption is fully cleansed. Until new guardians can be trained to maintain what you’ve restored.”
“How long?” she repeated. “Days? Weeks? Years?”
“Mortal time is fluid. Meaningless. It will take as long as it takes.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only answer I can give.”
Her hands clenched, frustration and fear warring within her.
“What happens to me? During this… vessel process?”
“You remain yourself. Your consciousness. Your memories. Your essential being. But your body becomes a conduit, a channel for divine power.”
“Will it hurt?”
“Yes.”
The simple honesty was almost worse than elaborate lies would have been.
“Will I see him? Khorrek?”
Hesitation, slight but noticeable.
“You will be aware of him. You will still be connected through the mate bond. But you won’t be able to touch him or speak to him. You won’t be able to comfort him.”
“How is that different from death?”
“Because there’s hope. When the work is complete, you can return with all the time you’ve earned through your sacrifice.”
“Canreturn. Notwillreturn.”
“Nothing is guaranteed, child. Even gods don’t control every outcome. But I promise you this: if you choose this path, I will do everything in my power to bring you back to him.”
She closed her eyes and felt tears trickle down her cheeks.
This is it. The real choice. Not life or death, but sacrifice or happiness.
She thought of Khorrek. His fierce protectiveness and his growing softness. The way he held her like she was precious.
I love you. Gods, I love you so much.
