Page 194 of The Orc's Captive Bride
“Behold!” Vorlag’s voice rang out. “Queen Thea! Chosen of the Gods! She who cleansed the curse! She who freed the orcs! She who will lead us into a new age!”
Another moment of stunned silence.
Then the plaza erupted.
The previous cheering was nothing compared to this. People screamed themselves hoarse. They waved whatever they had in their hands—scarves, hats, weapons. They lifted children onto their shoulders so the little ones could see.
“QUEEN THEA! QUEEN THEA! QUEEN THEA!”
The chant started somewhere in the middle of the crowd and spread like a wave, growing louder and louder until it seemed the very stones of Kel’Vara trembled with it.
He watched Thea’s face, looking for any sign of her reaction beneath the goddess’s control. Did she understand what was happening? Did she want this?
She didn’t ask for any of this, he thought, sudden uncertainty piercing his earlier pride. She was pulled from her world, captured, threatened, used as a vessel for divine power. And now they’re declaring her queen without even asking.
But what choice did they have? The ritual demanded a ruler, someone to fill the void Lasseran left, someone to anchor the restored balance.
And the goddess had chosen her.
CHAPTER FORTY
QUEEN THEA! QUEEN THEA! QUEEN THEA!
The words crashed over Thea like waves against a cliff, each repetition hitting harder than the last. She stood frozen on the dais, trapped inside her own body, screaming silently while the golden light pulsed around her.
No. No, no, no. I can’t—this isn’t—I didn’t agree to this!
But her mouth wouldn’t open. Her feet wouldn’t move. The goddess held her like a puppet on divine strings, keeping her upright and serene while thousands of voices declared her something she’d never asked to be.
Queen.
The word tasted wrong. Foreign. Impossible.
She was Dr. Thea Monroe, linguistic anthropologist, adjunct professor at a university that probably thought she was dead by now. She specialized in dead languages and ancient burial practices. She lived in a tiny apartment filled with books and survived on coffee and takeout.
She was not—could never be—a queen.
Peace, daughter. Freya’s voice whispered through her mind, warm and amused and utterly unconcerned by Thea’s panic. You will be fine.
Fine?Thea wanted to shriek.They’re declaring me ruler of a city I’ve been in for less than a month! A city in a world I don’t belong to! How is that FINE?
Because you care,Freya said simply.You will make mistakes. You will stumble. But you will always do what is right, not what is easy. That is why I chose you.
But I don’t know how to?—
You will learn. As you have learned everything else—with courage and curiosity and that stubborn refusal to give up that makes you so entertaining to watch.
There was genuine affection in the goddess’s tone, but also finality.
Wait—
Be well, Thea Monroe. We will speak again.
And just like that, the presence that had filled her since the ritual began… withdrew. The golden light flickered and her knees buckled.
Strong arms caught her before she hit the ground—familiar arms, scarred and powerful and smelling of leather and pine and safety.
“I’ve got you,” Khorrek murmured against her ear, his voice rough with concern.
