Page 21 of The Orc's Bonded Bride (The Five Kingdoms #3)
CHAPTER 21
E gon fed another branch into the fire, watching the flames devour it. The night pressed in around their small camp, but his thoughts were darker still. Khorrek’s words echoed in his mind—Lasseran’s plans were more extensive than anyone in Norhaven realized. The High King wasn’t just building an army; he was planning to control everyone with the Beast Curse in their blood.
Across the fire, Lyric slept peacefully, her face softened in slumber. His chest tightened at the sight of her. A few days ago, he’d believed he could never have this—her trust, her touch, her heart. Now that he had them, the weight of his responsibilities felt heavier than ever.
“Fuck,” he muttered, running a hand over his face.
He needed to get this information to his brothers. If Lasseran succeeded, the consequences would reach far beyond Norhaven’s borders. But returning meant taking Lyric from her home, from the life she’d built from nothing. He’d seen how the villagers relied on her, how she’d carved out a place for herself despite everything.
He shifted uncomfortably, his wounds from the fight with Khorrek still aching. He’d survived worse, but the timing was unfortunate. They needed to move quickly, before Khorrek reported back to his master. Although what he would report was another matter.
His gaze drifted back to Lyric. She’d chosen to come with him, chosen him over the safety of her cottage and her bees. But that had been before they knew the full scope of what they faced. Could he ask her to leave everything behind permanently? To face the dangers of Norhaven, a place that had never been kind to humans?
The fire crackled, sending sparks dancing upward. He watched them fade into the night sky, remembering the prayer he’d offered at the forgotten shrine. He’d asked for guidance, for a way to be useful. The Old Gods had answered with more than he’d dared hope for—they’d given him Lyric.
But perhaps this was their cruel joke. To give him everything he wanted, only to force him to choose between love and duty.
He tensed as a twig snapped behind him. His hand instinctively moved to his blade, but the familiar scent reached him before he could draw it. Lyric. His muscles relaxed, though the weight of his thoughts remained.
“You should be resting,” he said without turning, his voice low and rough.
She padded silently towards him anyway, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders against the night chill. “So should you. Your wounds need time to heal.”
He grunted, unwilling to admit how much the fight with Khorrek had taken from him. The other warrior had known exactly where to strike, had recognized his fighting style from the pits. That recognition had saved them both—had planted doubt in Khorrek’s mind about Lasseran’s true intentions.
She knelt beside him, studying his face in the firelight. “You’re brooding.”
“Planning,” he corrected, though his lips twitched at her directness.
Without warning, she rose and settled herself in his lap, her weight slight against his big body. He froze, still unaccustomed to such casual intimacy. Her fingers traced the scar that ran from his temple to his jaw, her touch feather-light.
“Planning looks an awful lot like torturing yourself,” she murmured, then leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.
The kiss was soft, comforting rather than demanding. His hands moved to her waist, steadying her as he returned the gesture with careful restraint. When she pulled back, her eyes reflected the dancing flames.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she said. “You’re trying to figure out how to protect me from all this.” Her hand settled over his heart. “But I’m already in it, Egon. I was in it the moment those men threatened my village.”
He sighed, his thumb tracing circles on her hip. “Lasseran is more dangerous than I realized. What Khorrek revealed?—”
“I know.” She cut him off gently. “You told me, remember? This isn’t something we can ignore, not if we want to protect the people we care about.” Her expression grew serious. “Your brothers need to know what’s happening. And Amara said I have a part to play in breaking the curse.”
His chest tightened as he looked at her, this remarkable woman who’d somehow chosen him despite everything. She deserved better than the chaos that followed him—deserved the peace she’d built for herself in that small village with her bees and her garden.
“Lyric, I…” His voice faltered. The words felt too large for his throat. “What I need to do—where I need to go—it’s dangerous. Norhaven isn’t kind to humans. And Lasseran’s forces may be hunting for us now.”
She didn’t flinch, didn’t look away. Just watched him with those steady green eyes that seemed to see right through him.
“I don’t want to leave you behind,” he finally admitted, the confession ripped from his mouth. “But I can’t ask you to abandon everything you’ve built.”
Her expression softened. She placed her palm against his cheek, her touch impossibly gentle against his scarred skin. “Then take me with you.”
He blinked, certain he’d misheard. “What?”
“Take me with you,” she repeated, her voice calm and sure. “To Norhaven. To your brothers. Wherever you need to go.”
The simplicity of her solution stunned him. All this time, he’d been torturing himself, believing he had to choose between duty and love. Between warning his brothers and protecting Lyric. And here she was, offering him both.
“But your home—your bees?—”
“Will still be there,” she finished for him. “The village will look after things until I return. And if I don’t…” She shrugged, but there was determination beneath the casual gesture. “I’ve started over before. I can do it again.”
He studied her face, searching for doubt or fear, finding only resolve. This wasn’t the impulsive girl he’d known years ago. This was a woman who knew her own mind, who’d survived on her own and built something from nothing.
“You’re not asking me to choose,” he said slowly, the realization dawning.
She smiled, a small, knowing curve of her lips. “No, I’m not. Because I already made my choice when I left the village with you.”
He stared at her, his chest tight with conflicting emotions. She made it sound so simple, as if following him into danger was no different than deciding which vegetables to plant in spring. The naive trust in her eyes made his protective instincts flare.
“You don’t understand what you’re saying,” he growled, his hands tightening on her waist. “Norhaven can be dangerous. And Lasseran’s forces… they won’t show mercy. Not to you, not to anyone who stands with me.”
She didn’t flinch at his harsh tone. “I understand more than you think.”
“Do you?” He couldn’t keep the edge from his voice. “Khorrek isn’t the worst of what’s out there. The Beasts that Lasseran has created—they’re designed to hunt, to kill.”
She met his gaze steadily, firelight reflecting in her eyes. “I’ve survived being hunted before. Maybe not by Beasts, but by men who were just as dangerous.”
He closed his eyes briefly, remembering the scars he’d glimpsed on her body, the ones she never spoke about. When he opened them again, he found her watching him with that same unwavering resolve.
“I won’t lie to you,” she said softly. “I’m afraid. But I’m more afraid of what happens if we do nothing.” Her fingers traced the line of his jaw. “And I trust you, Egon. I know you’ll do everything in your power to keep me safe.”
The simple faith in her words humbled him. After everything he’d done, all the ways he’d failed her—she still believed in him.
“We’re stronger together,” she continued. “You know that. Whatever this is between us… it matters. Amara saw it too.”
He exhaled slowly, feeling something within him settle. She was right. Whatever bond had formed between them—whether fate or choice or some combination of both—it gave them strength. He’d fought better with her nearby, thought clearer with her counsel.
“All right,” he said finally, “then we face this together.”
Her smile was like the first light of dawn breaking through darkness. “Together,” she agreed, sealing the promise with a kiss.
The weight of her in his lap anchored him to this moment, to this reality where he wasn’t alone. His entire life had been defined by solitude—even when surrounded by others in the fighting pits, even when he’d finally reunited with his brothers. He’d always held himself apart, convinced it was safer that way.
But here was Lyric, offering to walk into danger with him. Not out of obligation or pity, but choice.
“I’ve spent so long fighting alone,” he admitted, his voice rough with emotion. “Even after finding my brothers, I kept myself separate. Convinced myself it was better that way.”
She ran her fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his face. “And now?”
“Now I realize what a fool I’ve been.” He caught her hand, bringing it to his lips. “Strength isn’t about standing alone. It’s about who stands beside you when the fight comes.”
The fire crackled between them, sending shadows dancing across her face. In its light, he could see every freckle scattered across her nose, every fleck of gold in her green eyes. This woman who had survived so much, who had built a life for herself from nothing, was willing to risk it all for him—with him.
“I’ve never had anyone choose to face danger at my side,” he said, the words feeling strange on his tongue. “Not like this.”
Her smile was soft but determined. “Well, you do now. And I’m not easily discouraged.”
He felt something shift inside him, a weight lifting that he hadn’t known he carried. For so long, he’d believed his path was meant to be walked alone. That his scars, his past, his Beast nature—all of it marked him as someone who couldn’t be loved, couldn’t be chosen.
Yet here she was, proving him wrong with every breath.
“Together, then,” he repeated, the promise settling in his chest like a stone dropped into still water, sending ripples through his entire being.
He drew her closer, his large hands spanning her waist. Time seemed to slow as he looked into her eyes, still not quite believing that she was here, that she had chosen him. Her skin glowed golden in the firelight, and the weight of her in his lap felt right in a way nothing else ever had.
“Lyric,” he murmured, her name like a prayer on his lips.
He kissed her then, not with the desperate hunger of their first night together, but with something deeper. His lips moved against hers slowly, savoring the softness, the taste of her. Her arms wound around his neck, fingers threading through his hair as she pressed herself against him.
The world beyond their small circle of firelight ceased to exist. There was no Lasseran, no curse, no looming war—just her heartbeat against his chest and the sweet sigh that escaped her as he deepened the kiss.
His Beast stirred within him, not with rage but with possessive satisfaction. Mine. Ours. For once, orc and Beast were in perfect agreement.
He traced the curve of her spine, memorizing the feel of her, the scent of honey and flowers that clung to her skin even days away from her garden. When she shivered against him, he pulled the blanket more securely around them both, creating a cocoon of warmth against the night’s chill.
“Cold?” he asked, breaking the kiss just enough to speak.
She shook her head, her eyes dark with desire. “Not anymore.”
She kissed him again, and he lost himself in the sensation. His calloused hands, so accustomed to dealing death, now explored her body with reverent gentleness. Each touch, each kiss was an affirmation—that he was more than his scars, that she was more than her past, that together they had found something worth fighting for.
For the first time in his life, he allowed himself to hope. Not just for survival, but for happiness. For a future where moments like this weren’t stolen between dangers, but freely given in peace.