Page 43

We step inside, closing the heavy door behind us. The muffled roar of feasting orcs lingers beyond the walls. Inside, it is just the two of us— no illusions, no sabotage, only the bond we fought so hard to create.

I turn to Lirienne, heart thudding. In the quiet hush of the room, the noise from the courtyard diminishes into a distant pulse. My eyes roam over her ceremonial attire, the embroidered vest hugging her form, the belt highlighting her waist. She returns my gaze, cheeks flushed.

“We made it,” she whispers, tears shimmering. “They accept us.”

I place my hands gently on her shoulders, my own breath uneven. “Yes,” I rasp. “And I owe it all to your courage, your refusal to yield even when illusions convinced them you were a curse.”

She lets out a shaky laugh. “I had you,” she says softly, pressing her palm to my chest. “You believed in me even when the clan didn’t.”

We stand like that for a moment, foreheads close, the heat of our bodies mingling with the brazier’s gentle warmth.

I close my eyes, inhaling the faint smell of her hair, recalling every frantic moment of our journey: her trembling but unbroken stance when they accused her, the desperate confrontation in the War God’s temple, the final sign that bound us irrevocably.

Now we can share this union in joy, not fear.

Slowly, I reach for the clasps of her vest, unfastening them with care.

She lifts her chin, lips parted, no trace of hesitation.

Our first joining was spurred by desperation, a primal clash of need after illusions and sabotage threatened to tear us apart.

The second time, in the aftermath of a monstrous ambush, was an affirmation of trust. Tonight, it is a culmination of our entire journey—a celebration of the hope we carved from chaos.

Her fingers find the buckles of my own ceremonial harness, carefully slipping them free.

Each piece of leather falls away, revealing old scars across my green skin, marks from countless battles.

She traces a line across one scar, eyes glimmering with tenderness.

My breath catches. No illusions remain—only genuine affection, built on all we’ve endured.

We sink onto the furs like we’ve been waiting our whole lives for this moment.

No war drums. No poisoned wells. No suspicious glares.

Just the flicker of torchlight catching on bronze-tinted skin and silver-threaded hair, the low hum of crackling fire, and the slow, reverent thud of my heart as I watch Lirienne look at me like I am both weapon and sanctuary.

Her lips brush mine—featherlight, tasting of joy and something sacred. “I never imagined we’d get here,” she whispers, her voice rough with emotion. “Not like this. Not with peace.”

I cradle her jaw in my hand, my thumb stroking the high curve of her cheekbone. “You made this peace, Lirienne,” I murmur. “You gave them a reason to believe in something greater than fear.”

Her eyes shimmer in the brazier’s glow. “I only believed in you.”

A quiet growl rumbles in my chest as I drag my tusks gently along the line of her jaw, coaxing a shiver from her. My body aches to possess her, but not with haste. Not this time. I want her to feel worshipped, wanted, safe enough to lose herself without a single sliver of fear.

I begin with her collarbone, kissing a path down the hollow of her throat. She tilts her head back, giving me access, her fingers already threading into the cords of my hair. “Ghorzag,” she breathes. My name on her lips still feels like a benediction.

I strip away the last of her ceremonial garb, piece by piece, fingers lingering at every tie, every fold of embroidered cloth.

Each inch of exposed skin reveals more of the woman I fought for—not as a symbol, but as something feral and real.

Her nipples pebble in the cool air, dusky and perfect.

I run my thumb over one as she gasps, arching into my touch.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I growl, voice thick. “You don’t know what it does to me… seeing you like this. Knowing you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” she says, voice breathy. “Completely.”

I lower my head and take her nipple into my mouth, suckling gently while her hips writhe beneath me. She moans, legs spreading instinctively, welcoming me closer. Her scent floods my senses—sweet and slick, the smell of desire that’s already soaked through the crease of her thighs.

“Lie back,” I say roughly. She obeys without hesitation, trust in her every movement. I kiss my way down her ribs, across the soft swell of her belly, and finally between her thighs. I nudge them wider, watching as her pussy glistens in the warm light.

“You’re drenched,” I murmur, dragging a finger through her slick folds. “Do you know how much that turns me on?”

She shakes her head, breath ragged. “Touch me, Ghorzag… please.”

I lower my mouth to her pussy and lick a long, deliberate stripe up her center.

Her whole body jolts. She cries out softly, and the sound goes straight to my cock, which throbs against the furs.

I devour her slowly, tongue swirling around her clit, savoring every twitch, every helpless moan she gives me.

Her hands find my hair again, tugging with each gasp. “I can’t… gods, I’m so close?—”

“That’s it,” I growl against her, sliding two thick fingers inside her while I suck gently on her clit. “Come for me, bride. Let me taste it.”

She unravels with a gasp, thighs clamping around my head as she trembles through her climax. I hold her there, tongue easing her down, fingers moving in her until she whimpers from the sensitivity.

I pull back and crawl up her body, licking her release from my lips. “You’re perfect,” I rasp. “Every inch of you.”

Her hands fumble at the fastenings of my belt, desperate now. “I need you inside me. Now.”

I let her strip me bare, her fingers trembling as she reveals my cock, hard and heavy and already leaking.

She stares. “You’re so big… and you still amaze me everytime I see it.”

“You can take me, you know it,” I promise, kissing her again.

Guiding myself to her entrance, I rub the head of my cock through her folds, teasing her clit with the pressure. Her hips buck.

“Ghorzag,” she pleads.

I push in, slowly—inch by aching inch. Her pussy stretches around me, tight and perfect. Her mouth falls open in a gasp as I bottom out, buried to the hilt.

“Oh fuck,” she moans. “You’re… it’s so full. I can feel every part of you.”

I groan, gripping her hips. “You’re squeezing me like you don’t want to let go.”

“Maybe I don’t,” she whispers, wrapping her legs around my waist. “Maybe I want this to last forever.”

I thrust—slow, deep, reverent. Her head tips back, mouth falling open in a moan so raw it nearly undoes me.

“Faster,” she begs, nails dragging down my back.

I give her what she asks for, picking up the pace, each thrust claiming her anew. The furs beneath us shift. The brazier flickers wildly with the rhythm of our bodies. The sound of her slick pussy taking my cock echoes in the room, a melody of need and devotion.

“You’re mine,” I growl, burying my face against her neck. “Every breath, every heartbeat. Say it.”

“I’m yours,” she cries. “I love you, Ghorzag?—”

The words hit me like a spear to the chest. I kiss her hard, a desperate thing filled with too many unsaid truths. I thrust harder, losing rhythm, chasing release. Her cries grow frantic, legs locking around me as she clutches my shoulders.

“I’m coming,” she gasps, body tightening beneath me.

“Come with me,” I command, voice breaking.

She shatters around me, pussy fluttering in spasms as I finally lose control. I thrust once, twice, then come with a roar, spilling deep inside her. My cock jerks with every wave, filling her until we’re nothing but heartbeats and heat and tangled limbs.

We collapse together, her hands still clinging to me. Her breath ghosts across my collarbone, her lips brushing the old scar there.

“I’ve never felt anything like that,” she whispers, eyes wide.

“Neither have I,” I admit, brushing her hair from her face. “Not just the pleasure. The peace.”

She smiles, soft and sated. “The War God’s flame doesn’t burn us.”

“No,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to her temple. “It lights the way forward.”

“We… survived so much,” she whispers, eyes drifting closed. “Is this real?”

I kiss the top of her head. “As real as the War God’s flame that saved us.

No illusions can mimic such peace.” My voice comes out husky, chest vibrating with each word.

“I vow to cherish you, Lirienne, for all the battles to come—whether they be famine, raiders, or internal disputes. We face them side by side.”

Her fingers trace an old scar near my ribs, reminiscent of a dark elf skirmish from years past. “And I vow,” she says softly, “to stand with you, offering what knowledge and compassion I have, bridging orc and human. We no longer fear illusions. We can build a future where outsiders might see orcs not as monsters but as potential allies.”

A rush of emotion swamps me, recalling my father’s last words, urging me to be strong for the clan. He never foresaw a future where humans and orcs might unite in love. Yet here we are, forging a new dawn. Gently, I tilt her face up and kiss her, letting the quiet intimacy speak for us.

Time feels suspended as we doze, limbs entwined.

Outside, the clan’s celebration continues, but gradually quiets as the night deepens.

A subtle hush settles over the fortress, broken by occasional laughter or the soft strum of an orcish lute in the distance.

My thoughts circle the final sign we witnessed—the War God’s acceptance—how it changed the entire clan’s perspective.

Even the ominous illusions had vanished, replaced by calmer skies and renewed crops.

The orchard caretaker reported new buds sprouting, the rotted seeds unexpectedly reviving.

The War God’s final blessing extended to every corner of Stormborn’s domain.

At some point, I rise carefully, mindful of Lirienne’s contented form.

Tugging a soft fur blanket over her, I step to the small window slit in the lodge’s wall.

Starlight spills through, revealing the courtyard beyond.

From this vantage, I see orcs finishing the last of the feast, a group of children lying on the steps, blinking up at the stars in exhausted wonder.

The bonfires smolder, sending curls of smoke into a serene sky.

A sky free of illusions and storms, a sign of the War God’s peace.

The future unspools in my mind: rebuilding trust among the clan, integrating Lirienne’s knowledge of herbs to improve healing, perhaps forging new ties with distant human villages to show orcs no longer raid them for spoils.

We can lead them together, forging a new era. Pride and gratitude warm my chest.

Quiet footsteps rouse me from my reverie. Lirienne joins me at the window, the blanket draped around her shoulders. She nestles against me, gazing at the tranquil scene below. “They’re… so peaceful,” she remarks, eyes shining. “I never dreamed orcs could be so warm once suspicion cleared.”

I slide an arm around her waist. “Nor did I dream a human bride could prove so resilient. Because of you, they found reason to set aside old hatred.” Our gazes meet, a mutual promise in the hush. “This is our clan now— no illusions, no traitors. A future shaped by courage, not fear.”

She rests her head on my shoulder, content in the soft glow of starlight. “Then let’s lead them, Ghorzag,” she whispers, voice trembling with conviction. “Let’s ensure no illusions or betrayal, real or conjured, divide us again.”

My chest swells. Yes. Pressing a gentle kiss to her brow, I silently vow to guide Stormborn with every ounce of strength.

No sabotage will thrive under our watch, no illusions will manipulate the clan again.

The War God’s final sign—clear skies, renewed orchard growth—crowned our journey with a promise of bounty.

I will protect them, protect her, forging a unity that endures.

Outside, a gentle breeze stirs the courtyard fires, carrying a faint echo of orcish songs drifting through the fortress halls.

The night soars with possibility. Tomorrow we face the clan’s day-to-day demands— new defenses, trade routes, ensuring Gaurbod’s co-conspirators face justice.

But tonight, we bask in the wedding’s final hush.

“I love you,” Lirienne murmurs, fingers lacing through mine.

My pulse thrums at those words. “I love you,” I answer, voice thick with emotion. “The clan stands with us now—and I will see that we lead them into a brighter era.”

She smiles, turning to wrap her arms around my waist. I draw her close, inhaling the faint smell of incense and wildflowers in her hair.

The fortress no longer feels like a cage but a refuge for hearts once torn by illusions.

Above us, stars shimmer in silent witness, the War God’s altar now sealed with genuine devotion. This is it: our happily ever after.

“Come,” I murmur, guiding her from the window. “Let’s rest. Tomorrow we wake to a clan that trusts in us, and a future we get to shape with our own hands.”

She nods, eyes shining with promise. Hand in hand, we return to the warm circle of furs.

Outside, orcs finish their last round of toasts.

Inside, in the quiet of our new union, we nestle together, exchanging soft whispers of love, the final echoes of the War God’s blessing drifting in our minds.

And as sleep claims us, I clutch that precious vow: No illusions will ever tear us apart again.