Page 18 of Bound By Blood (Orc Warrior Romances #1)

The knowledge surfaces without conscious thought, ancient words in a language older than either of our peoples. Power flows between us like molten metal, transforming two separate beings into something unified and incandescent.

Her hands tangle in my hair as the kiss deepens, and I taste lightning on her tongue. Every nerve ending blazes with a sensation that transcends mere physical pleasure. This is what the elders call kheval-mor , spirit recognition, when two souls acknowledge their fundamental compatibility.

This is what my mother meant when she spoke of connections that transcend bloodline and culture.

The heat radiating from our joined bodies grows so intense that the pool water bubbles. Steam fills the chamber like sacred smoke, carrying ozone and burning sage. The volcanic glass walls reflect our mingled energy as dancing patterns of light and shadow.

When we finally break apart, both of us are breathing hard. Her eyes have gone wide with wonder and what might be fear.

The candle flames settle back to normal height, but the chamber still thrums with residual energy. The pool water continues steaming at a temperature that would be painful under ordinary circumstances, but feels perfectly comfortable against our skin.

Spirit-bond activated. The connection is no longer theoretical. It's becomes a physical reality.

"The glyphs," she says, staring at my chest where faint luminescent markings have appeared beneath the skin. "They're beautiful."

I look down and see the Kheval origin symbols glowing softly along my collarbone: intertwining spirals that represent the merger of two distinct spiritual essences. Similar markings have appeared on her arms, weaving through her existing willow-and-chalice tattoos like silver thread.

Permanent marking. Visible proof of what just occurred between us.

"Your people," I say. "How will they react when they see those markings?"

"They'll know I've undergone a profound spiritual transformation." Her fingers trace the new glyphs along her forearm. "Whether they interpret that as blessing or curse will depend on political considerations I can't control."

Political considerations that could brand her as traitor, exile, or worse.

"And you're still willing to accept the bond, knowing those risks?"

She steps closer again, her hands resting against my chest where the Kheval markings pulse with gentle warmth. "The bond has already been accepted. What happened between us wasn't a proposal or negotiation. It was recognition of something that already existed."

Already existed. The truth of it resonates through my bones. This connection didn't begin when she healed my fever or even when our eyes met across the battlefield. It started somewhere deeper, in whatever realm of existence souls occupy before they incarnate into physical form.

Destined, then. Written in the mountain's heart-stone before either of us drew breath.

"Three days," I say. "The council gave you three days to decide."

"The council can have their three days for political theater." She rises on her toes and kisses me again, brief but intense. "The real decision was made the moment I touched you beside that first healing pool."

Made the moment our spirits recognized each other across the space between two peoples raised to be enemies.

The obsidian candles burn lower, their flames casting shifting patterns across the chamber walls.

Steam continues rising from the heated pool, wrapping around us like ceremonial robes.

The Kheval markings on our skin pulse in synchronized rhythm, visible proof of the spiritual alliance we've just forged.

Bond-mate. Spirit-sworn. Kheval-matched.

Years of emotional discipline dissolved in a single kiss. Years of careful political calculation, superseded by a recognition that transcends rational thought.

And you regret none of it.

Looking into her eyes, watching moonlight dance across features I'm memorizing, I realize that's absolutely true. Whatever complications this bond creates, whatever political storms it unleashes, the connection itself feels like coming home after a lifetime of wandering.

"Stay with me tonight," I say. "Not for politics or tradition or council decisions. Just for this."

"Yes."

The simple word carries the absolute commitment, sealing what the spirit-bond began.

Her lips taste of moonlight and mountain springs, a heady mix that ignites every nerve ending. My hands, rough and calloused from decades of war, trace the delicate curve of her waist, the soft swell of her hips. She shivers beneath my touch, but not from cold. The heat between us could melt stone.

"Eirian," I murmur against her skin, feeling the pulse at her throat quicken.

"Drokhan." Her voice is barely a whisper, yet it resonates through me like thunder. Her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me closer until our breaths mingle, until the world narrows down to just us, just this moment.

Our bodies press together, skin against skin, heartbeat against heartbeat. The Kheval markings on our flesh pulse with synchronised light, casting shadows the cavern walls. The air is thick with steam and the scent of sage, the sacred herb of binding and cleansing.

Her hands explore my chest, tracing the ancient tattoos that tell the story of my lineage, my battles, my losses. Each touch is a question, each kiss an answer. When her fingers brush against the scar over my heart, the one that marks the first life I took, she pauses.

"Does it still hurt?" She asks.

"Only when I remember," I admit, covering her hand with mine. "But tonight, I want to forget. I want to feel alive, Eirian. With you."

She nods, understanding shining in her eyes. Then she leans in, her lips finding mine again, her body pressing against mine with renewed urgency. I can feel her heart racing, matching the wild rhythm of my own.

We sink down onto the stone floor, the warmth of the spring water lapping at our feet. Her hair spreads out around her like a dark halo, catching the moonlight filtering through the cavern's opening. She is a vision, a goddess carved from starlight and shadow.

I trail kisses down her neck, across her collarbone, tasting the salt of her skin.

She arches beneath me, a soft moan escaping her lips.

The sound sends a jolt of desire through me, raw and primal.

I want to hear her make that sound again.

I want to make her feel everything she's never allowed herself to feel before.

My hands roam over her body, learning her curves, her secrets. She gasps when I cup her breast, her nipple hardening against my palm. I lean down, taking the peak into my mouth, teasing it with my tongue. She writhes beneath me, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Drokhan," she whispers, her voice hoarse with need. "Please..."

I know what she's asking for, what she needs. I can feel it in the tension of her muscles, the heat of her skin, the way her hips lift towards mine. But I want to draw this out, to savour every moment, every touch, every taste.

I trail kisses down her stomach, feeling the muscles quiver beneath my lips. She shivers with anticipation as I move lower, my breath hot against her skin. When I reach the apex of her thighs, she tenses, her breath hitching in her throat.

"Trust me," I murmur, looking up at her. Her eyes are wide, but she nods, her trust absolute.

I part her folds with my fingers, revealing the sensitive nub hidden within. She gasps as I lean in, my tongue circling the delicate flesh. Her taste is intoxicating, sweet and musky, a heady mix that goes straight to my head.

I explore her with my mouth, my fingers, learning what makes her gasp, what makes her moan, what makes her body tremble with need. She grips my hair, her hips moving in rhythm with my touch, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Drokhan," she cries out, her body convulsing as pleasure crashes over her. I can feel her release, taste it,, and it's the most exquisite thing I've ever experienced.

She pulls me up, her lips finding mine in a desperate kiss. I can taste her, taste the pleasure I've given her, and it's a heady sensation. Her hands roam over my body, her touch feverish, urgent.

"I need you," she whispers against my lips. "I need you inside me."

Her words send a surge of desire through me, so intense it's almost painful.

I position myself at her entrance, feeling the heat of her, the slickness of her arousal.

Her eyes meet mine, wide and trusting, and I know I'm lost. Orc and human, doing the unthinkable.

It's been done before. Now I understand. She's mine to claim.

I push into her slowly, feeling her body stretch to accommodate mine. She gasps, her nails digging into my shoulders, but she doesn't look away. She keeps her eyes locked on mine, her trust absolute.

The sensation is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain, of connection and surrender. I feel her heartbeat, her breath, her very soul. It's as if we're no longer two separate beings, but one entity, one spirit, one flesh.

I move slowly at first, then faster, deeper. She matches my rhythm, her hips lifting to meet mine, her body moving in perfect sync with mine. The Kheval markings on our skin pulse with light, casting shadows over the cavern walls.

Her breath comes in ragged gasps, her moans echoing off the stone. I can feel her pleasure building, can feel the tension in her muscles, the heat of her skin. I lean down, capturing her lips in a fierce kiss, swallowing her cries as she comes undone beneath me.

Her release triggers my own, a wave of pleasure so intense it leaves me breathless. I pour myself into her, my body shaking with the force of it, my heart pounding in my chest.

We collapse together, our bodies slick with sweat, our breaths coming in ragged gasps. The Kheval markings on our skin fade, leaving behind a warm glow that seems to pulse in time with our heartbeats.

I roll onto my side, pulling her into my arms. She nestles against me, her head resting on my chest, her breath warm against my skin. Her heart hammers, steady and strong, a mirror of my own.

"Eirian," I murmur, my voice barely a whisper. "You are mine. And I am yours."

She looks up at me with wide eyes soft with emotion. "Yes," she says simply. "I am yours. And you are mine."

The words are a vow, a promise, a sacred bond that transcends culture, transcends species, transcends everything we've ever known. We are no longer just Drokhan and Eirian, Chief of the Stoneborn and Lady of House Thorne. We are something more, something deeper, something that defies definition.

We are one.

Dawn finds us wrapped in each other's arms, our bodies entwined, our hearts beating in sync.

The moonlight has faded, replaced by the soft glow of morning light filtering through the cavern's opening.

The steam from the spring has dissipated, leaving behind a cool, damp air that smells of stone and sage.

I stir, feeling the warmth of Eirian's body against mine, the softness of her breath against my skin. She murmurs in her sleep, her hand tightening around mine, as if even in her dreams she fears letting go.

I press a kiss to her forehead, feeling a surge of protectiveness so fierce it's almost painful. This woman, this fragile, strong, beautiful woman, is mine to protect, mine to cherish, mine to love.

The thought sends a jolt of fear through me. Love. It's a word I've never associated with myself, a concept I've never allowed myself to consider. Love is a weakness, a vulnerability, a chink in the armour that enemies could exploit.

But as I look down at Eirian, her face soft with sleep, her body curled against mine, I know I'm already lost. I'm already vulnerable, already exposed, already irrevocably changed by this woman who has burrowed her way into my heart.

"Drokhan?" Her voice is soft, sleepy, her eyes fluttering open to meet mine.

"I'm here," I murmur, tightening my arms around her. "I'm not going anywhere."

She smiles, a soft, sweet smile that lights up her face. "Good," she says. "Because neither am I."

The words are a promise, a vow, a sacred bond that transcends everything we've ever known. We are no longer just Drokhan and Eirian, Chief of the Stoneborn and Lady of House Thorne. We are something more, something deeper, something that defies definition.

We are one.

And as the morning light filters through the cavern's opening. I know nothing will ever be the same again. We are irrevocably changed, irrevocably bound, irrevocably one.

And I wouldn't have it any other way.