Page 33

For a moment, I consider protesting—there is still so much to do, illusions to guard against, orcs to check on.

But the pain twinges, and I exhale, dropping to a makeshift seat on a flat boulder.

Lirienne kneels behind me, unlatching my chest plate to reveal the slash beneath.

Her gasp tells me it is more than a shallow graze.

“Ghorzag,” she murmurs, voice tight. “This is deeper than you claimed.”

I breathe heavily, ignoring the sting. “I’ve had worse.”

Her fingers brush my skin, and a hiss escapes me. The gash burns where the beast’s claw raked across muscle. Warm blood trickles, though it isn’t gushing. I force myself to remain still, letting Lirienne dab at the wound with a damp cloth.

Silence stretches, the only sounds her careful breathing and the distant moans of injured orcs. My heart hammers, not just from pain but from the intimacy of her touch. We nearly died today. The significance weighs on my chest.

She applies a pungent salve, stinging sharply. My muscles tense. “Sorry,” she whispers, voice trembling with empathy. “I have to make sure it’s clean.”

I grunt in acknowledgment, letting her proceed.

As she works, her hands grow gentler, the tension in her posture easing into a focused care.

My mind flickers back to the night we first yielded to the powerful undercurrent between us—anger turned to desperate passion.

Now, in the aftermath of battle, a different kind of intensity fills the air: relief, gratitude, a shared sense of precarious survival.

When Lirienne finishes bandaging my shoulder, she reaches around to inspect a bruise along my collarbone, leaning close. The breath catches in my throat. Her warm presence envelops me. The rough stone beneath my palms suddenly feels far colder by comparison.

Her voice comes softly, “You push yourself so hard, Ghorzag. Always charging into danger to protect everyone. Who’s protecting you?”

I swallow, a wave of unspoken emotion rising. “I protect myself,” I say, but it sounds unconvincing even to my own ears.

She shifts, eyes searching mine. The closeness of her face sends a jolt through my chest. “Sometimes even the strongest need help,” she whispers.

A swirl of conflicting impulses batters me.

Duty demands I remain vigilant, keep watch for magic or traitors.

But the warmth of Lirienne’s closeness offers a fleeting moment of solace.

I nearly lost her to the clan’s fury once.

We both nearly died. The raw vulnerability of that thought loosens the walls around my heart.

Gently, almost tentatively, I let my fingers brush the side of her cheek, smudged with ash from the beasts’ remains. Her eyes flutter shut at the contact. “I—” I begin, unsure how to articulate the swirl in my chest. I can’t lose you, not when the entire clan demands your head.

She places a hand over mine, turning her face into the touch. A tremor races through her. “Ghorzag… every time we fight, I fear it’s the last I’ll see of you.” Her voice wavers, tears threatening.

Emotion surges. I pull her closer, ignoring the sting in my shoulder.

My breath shudders as I press my forehead to hers, soaking in the simple comfort of her presence.

We survived another trial. The world beyond us—the orcish stares, the priests’ chants—fades into insignificance for one stolen moment.

Her mouth opens under mine with a soft gasp, and I drink her in like it’s the last time I’ll ever taste her. Maybe it is. The way danger dogs our every step, we can’t afford to waste any moment—not with the War God watching, not with traitors in the mist.

“Ghorzag,” she breathes, her hands sliding over my bare chest, fingertips tracing the inked spirals of my tattoos. Her touch is reverent, not fearful. Each pass over my skin sends a tremor through me, as though she’s rewriting the meaning of every mark I bear. Not war. Not blood. Just… her.

“You’re beautiful,” she whispers, brushing her fingers along my jaw, one grazing the chipped tusk that has made too many warriors flinch.

I huff a breath against her lips. “I’m a monster, Lirienne.”

“No.” Her eyes blaze with certainty, even as her voice trembles. “You’re mine.”

A growl claws up my throat. I crush my mouth to hers, trying to hold back the need roaring through my veins.

But it’s no use. My cock is already hard, throbbing against the seam of my trousers, begging for her warmth, her slick heat, her trust. Still, I don’t rush.

She deserves more than brute strength. She deserves to be cherished.

Her cloak slips from her shoulders, revealing the soft curves and bruises beneath—earned from battle, not weakness.

I lower her gently onto the blanket we spread over the flattened stone, a poor excuse for a bed but the only sanctuary we can claim.

The torchlight flickers across her skin, painting gold over the swell of her breasts, the rise and fall of her belly, the faint shimmer between her thighs.

“I need to taste you,” I rasp, voice raw.

She nods, breathless. “Please.”

I slide down between her legs, parting them with large hands that nearly span the width of her thighs. Her pussy glistens, slick and ready, and the sight nearly undoes me. I press a kiss to the inside of her knee, then the crease of her thigh. She twitches beneath me, hands fisting the blanket.

My tongue finds her center, and her whole body arches.

Her flavor is sweet and salt and smoke, like something forged in fire.

I groan against her pussy, lapping slowly, letting my tusks frame her as I work her with my mouth.

She’s so fucking soft here, so responsive, gasping with every stroke of my tongue.

“Oh—oh gods,” she cries, one hand flying to my hair. “Don’t stop, Ghorzag, please…”

I don’t. I suck her clit gently, then slide two thick fingers inside her, curling them until she shudders. Her pussy clenches around them like she’s trying to keep me inside. My cock jerks at the feel of her.

“You’re so snug,” I growl against her. “So wet for me. You’ll take me, won’t you? Every inch.”

She moans, legs trembling. “Yes. Fuck, yes—I want you inside me.”

I move back up her body, licking a path along her belly, pausing to kiss the swell of her breast. Her nipples are peaked, flushed, begging for attention. I draw one into my mouth while palming the other, and she gasps my name like a benediction.

I sit up, undoing the bindings at my waist. My cock springs free—thick, veined, nearly black in the torchlight. Her eyes widen, but not with fear. She reaches for me, fingers brushing the base, wrapping around my length. I nearly lose it right there.

“Tell me what it feels like,” I demand, watching her hand stroke me.

“Hard… hot… like you’re carved from stone,” she whispers. “But alive. Burning.”

I hiss through my teeth. “You make me burn.”

I settle between her thighs, rubbing the head of my cock through her soaked folds, coating myself in her slick heat. Her breath hitches.

“Look at me,” I say roughly.

Her eyes lock with mine, wide and shining.

“I won’t hurt you,” I vow, voice shaking. “If it’s too much?—”

“It won’t be.” She cups my face, drawing me down for another kiss. “I want all of you. I trust you.”

That word hits me like a warhammer to the chest. I push in slowly, gritting my teeth as her pussy stretches around me. She’s so narrow—gods, she fits me like a glove—warm and wet and welcoming. She gasps, mouth parting in surprise as I sink deeper.

“You’re—oh, gods,” she pants. “You’re thick and long, Ghorzag.”

I pause, trembling with restraint. “Too much?”

She shakes her head fiercely. “Just… let me adjust.”

I kiss her temple, her cheek, her lips. I murmur against her skin, waiting for her breath to steady.

Then she wraps her legs around my waist. “Move.”

I start to thrust, slow and deep, watching her reaction with every inch. Her mouth falls open, her head tipping back.

“Fuck,” she moans. “You’re everywhere inside me.”

“You’re perfect,” I groan. “You’re mine.”

Our rhythm builds, each stroke more urgent than the last. Her pussy clenches around me, milking my cock with every thrust. My name falls from her lips like prayer.

“Ghorzag… yes… don’t stop?—”

I don’t. I thrust harder, the slap of skin-on-skin muffled by the distant chanting of priests, the crackle of firelight behind the rocks. But here in this hidden space, it’s just us—orc and human, bound not by politics but by something feral and real.

Her nails score down my back. I snarl and dip my head, nipping the curve of her throat. She arches into me, crying out as I hit that spot deep inside her.

“There,” she whimpers. “Right there—gods, I’m going to?—”

“Let go for me,” I growl. “Come on my cock, Lirienne.”

Her whole body tenses, and then she falls apart. Her orgasm rips through her in waves, pussy spasming around me, drawing me deeper. Her cries are muffled against my shoulder as I pound into her, chasing my own release.

I follow seconds later, cock twitching as I spill inside her, warmth flooding us both. I bite down on a groan, trying not to roar loud enough to draw attention.

Then, with breathless exhaustion, we collapse into each other’s arms, the rocky ground reminding us we are still in a perilous canyon. Sweat-slick skin cools in the night breeze. Our foreheads touch, a quiet intimacy bridging orc and human, chieftain and outcast. For this instant, we are free.

The world trickles back slowly—distant murmurs of the priests, Karzug’s voice calling orders. I brush hair from Lirienne’s face, her cheeks flushed from both physical exertion and raw emotion. She clutches my hand, eyes reflecting the torchlight with an almost fragile hope.

“What now?” she whispers, voice hoarse. “The illusions, the clan… they still want me gone.”

I gather her closer, trying to shield her from the reality we must eventually return to. “We face them together,” I murmur. “I promised I’d protect you, no matter the cost.”

She blinks back tears, lips trembling. “And I promise I won’t run away, Ghorzag. Whatever stands against us—your cousin, the sabotage, illusions—I’ll stand with you. I’m done cowering.”

My heart twists at her earnest determination. I cup her cheek, pressing a soft kiss to her brow. “You’re braver than you know,” I whisper.

A faint, sad smile tugs at her lips. “Sometimes bravery is just stubbornness, refusing to let fear win.”

I rest my forehead against hers, savoring the closeness. “If that’s so, we’ll outstubborn this entire mountain range.”

She gives a shaky laugh, then falls silent, her gaze searching mine. Beneath her eyes lies the memory of how easily everything could’ve slipped away. My own chest feels heavy with the knowledge that we’ve only won one battle; an entire war—literal or metaphorical—still looms.

Finally, we help each other readjust clothing, mindful of scrapes and bandages. Pain returns to my shoulder, a dull throb overshadowed by the warmth still coursing through me from our encounter. Lirienne touches the bandage gently. “Did I hurt you more by letting you move like that?”

A wry smirk curves my mouth. “No more than those beasts did.” The truth is, the moment we shared chased away the darkness gnawing at me. Pain is trivial compared to the solace I find in her arms.

We emerge from behind the rocky outcrop to find the camp’s attention focused on cleaning up the monstrous corpses, building a small pyre to burn the remains before they can rot and attract scavengers. The stench of acid lingers in the canyon air, stinging my nostrils.

Karzug spots us, relief flickering in his gaze. “Chieftain,” he greets, forcing a smile. “We’re disposing of the creatures now. The priests say we shouldn’t leave them to fester.”

I nod, slipping back into the role of commander. Lirienne lingers at my side, head held high despite the watchful stares of some warriors. Let them suspect whatever they want. We are past secrets now—only survival matters.

Harzug approaches, wiping monster blood off his halberd. “That was quite a fight,” he says. “Glad we made it through.” His gaze flicks to Lirienne, but instead of scorn, it holds a trace of grudging respect. “Your salves helped Karzug’s arm. Without that, he might have lost it.”

Lirienne offers a slight nod, lips pressed in a determined line. “I’m glad I could help.”

A hush lingers in the air. The orcs still view her warily, but the fact her remedies saved a vital warrior might soften a few hearts. One small victory, overshadowed by the looming threat of illusions and sabotage.

Ragzuk sidles closer, staff in hand. “We must keep moving, Chieftain. Another day or two, and we’ll reach the path leading to the War God’s temple.”

I glance at the blood-stained canyon floor, the thick mist swirling overhead. We nearly died here. A shuddering breath escapes me. “Then let’s not linger.”

We press on after a brief rest. The beasts’ remains are set ablaze, a grim reminder of the monstrous perils these mountains harbor. The priests recite a final invocation over the pyre, calling on the War God to bless our journey—or at least not smite us for trespassing in his domain.

As we trudge along the winding canyon, Lirienne walks at my side. Our shoulders occasionally brush, each contact a subtle reassurance. The memory of our bodies entwined burns bright, a testament to fleeting peace in the midst of havoc.

In the hush that follows the battle, I bend my head toward her. “If illusions strike again, stay close,” I murmur. “I can’t lose you.”

Her voice quavers slightly. “I’ll stay by your side, Ghorzag.” She hesitates, then adds, “No illusions or sabotage will tear us apart.”

A powerful surge of emotion wells in me—love, protectiveness, and a fierce determination to honor my vow. Let illusions come, let traitors plot. I’ll fight them all if it means keeping her safe.

The road leads us deeper into the mountains, the air growing thinner. A chill wind tears at our cloaks, but after the terror of monstrous beasts, we press on in stoic resolve. The War God’s temple awaits, an uncertain verdict looming over our heads.

Yet, for the first time since this pilgrimage began, I feel a sense of unity amid the darkness. The second time Lirienne and I share our bodies, we forge something more than fleeting passion—it is a symbol of unity and trust. Whatever trials these mountains throw at us next, we meet them together.