Epilogue
EPILOGUE
J ana stood next to Lothar on the mountainside above his home, her hand tightening on his arm as she looked down at the village below. Neat rows of longhouses stretched out on either side of a central square, smoke curling lazily from their chimneys into the clear mountain air. At one end of the square stood a massive community hall, its weathered wooden walls speaking of countless gatherings and celebrations. At the other end, the clan house dominated the view, its sharp peaked roof reaching toward the sky.
The sight was both beautiful and unsettling. The isolated location, tucked away from the rest of the world, stirred uncomfortable memories - a community that claimed to be a sanctuary but turned into a prison. The way the buildings all faced inward, the communal living spaces, even the shared meals she could imagine taking place in that hall - it all echoed her past.
Her throat tightened as she remembered that community, one that had also appeared peaceful and prosperous from the outside. One that had promised safety and belonging but delivered control and pain instead.
Lothar’s warm hand covered hers where it gripped his arm. “What troubles you, my valai?”
She wanted to shake off the memories, to see only the beauty of his home, but the parallels were too strong. The rural lifestyle, the way everyone would know everyone else’s business, the pressure to conform that inevitably came with such close-knit communities - it all felt eerily familiar.
The rational part of her mind knew this was different. He was nothing like the controlling elders of the cult. His love was freely given, not a tool of manipulation. But standing there, looking down at the isolated village, she couldn’t quite silence the whispers of her past.
He had tensed in response to her distress, but his thumb stroked gentle circles on the back of her hand.
“We don’t have to stay,” he murmured. “If this makes you uncomfortable, we can return to Port Cael.”
His immediate offer to leave his village for her sake helped calm her fears. She turned to face him, seeing the worry in his eyes, and managed a smile.
“I do want to visit Port Cael soon,” she said. “I’m worried about Jessamin. Ulric pulled away from her again after she recovered.” She shook her head, frustrated by the king’s stubborn denial of his feelings. “But this is your home, Lothar. I won’t ask you to give that up.”
His big hand cupped her cheek. “Your happiness matters more to me than any physical location.”
The simple declaration brought tears to her eyes. This was what made him different from the controlling men of her past - his willingness to put her needs first, to give her choices rather than demands.
She covered his hand with hers, leaning into his touch.
“I know this is where we belong. I just needed a moment.” She took a deep breath, drawing strength from his presence. “I’m ready to see the village now.”
Her steps faltered as they entered the village square. Dozens of male orcs milled about - massive, intimidating figures that made her instinctively press closer to Lothar. Their sheer numbers overwhelmed her, especially given how few females she spotted among them.
Before she could panic, a pretty blonde woman burst through the clan house doors, and raced over to them.
“Lothar! You’re back. And with a Bride?” she asked eagerly.
“Of a sort. Kari, this is my mate, Jana. She is from your world.”
Kari’s eyes widened.
“Really?” she asked in English. “Where?”
“I live - lived - in the low country. Lothar said you were from Charleston?”
The words had barely left her mouth before Kari launched herself forward, wrapping her in an enthusiastic embrace. The sudden contact made Jana stiffen for a moment before she forced herself to relax. This wasn’t a threat - this was family.
“So we’re both Carolina girls. Oh, I have so many questions!” Kari pulled back, beaming. “You must tell me everything about how you arrived. Did the gods bring you too? How did you meet Lothar? What do you think of Norhaven so far?”
The rapid-fire questions came so fast that she couldn’t begin to answer them. Kari linked their arms together and began steering them toward the clan house, chattering excitedly about showing Jana around and introducing her to everyone.
She threw a helpless glance over her shoulder at Lothar, who followed them with an amused smile on his face. Despite feeling slightly overwhelmed by Kari’s enthusiasm, she found herself warming to the other woman’s genuine welcome. It was also surprisingly comforting to know she wasn’t alone - that there was someone else who truly understood what it meant to be transported to this strange new world.
“Where are my brothers?” Lothar asked as Kari led them to a comfortable sitting room.
“Out,” she said absently, still peppering her with questions. “Wulf went to check on the herds in the far pasture, and I think Egon went with him, although he also mentioned something about going hunting.”
“I need to speak with Wulf, but…” He hesitated, clearly reluctant to leave her alone so soon after their arrival.
“Go,” she told him softly. “I’d like to talk to Kari.”
She rarely felt comfortable enough to be alone with strangers, but something about Kari’s open friendliness, as well as their shared experience, put her at ease.
Once he left, Kari settled them both with cups of fragrant tea.
“So tell me everything,” she urged.
She described the strange storm that had brought her here, then her encounter with Lothar in the forest. When she mentioned making the antidote for Jessamin, Kari leaned forward intently.
“That’s incredible! I’ve always felt there was a reason we were brought here.” Kari’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Not just for our mates, though that’s wonderful too. But I think we have a greater purpose in Norhaven.”
“Because of the Curse?”
“It certainly seems possible.” Kari beamed at her. “Especially since I’m pregnant.”
The world reeled around her.
“Pregnant?” she echoed weakly. “But the Curse…”
“Exactly. I mean, I can’t prove it yet, but it has to be true, doesn’t it?” Kari’s expression grew more serious. “The orcs are a dying race, and we are the key to their future. Our children are their salvation. We are the answer to their prayers.”
Jana stared at her, unable to form words. Was it possible? Had Freja really chosen them to save an entire species? The idea was overwhelming, and a tiny part of her quailed at the responsibility.
“I don’t believe that Freja brought us here just to be orc broodmares.”
“Well, that wasn’t exactly my phrasing,” Kari said dryly. “I just think that it’s part of a bigger plan to save the orcs.”
“Yes, but why us? I’m sure there are plenty of other women who would have been willing to be brides.”
“I don’t have the answers.” Kari shrugged. “But I believe Freja chose us for a reason.”
“So it was a choice for you as well?”
“Yes, but not before I came. Afterwards. But then Wulf prayed to a male god. It probably didn’t occur to him to ask.”
Kari’s expression was so disgruntled that she couldn’t help laughing. “Perhaps the gods are more flexible than we thought.”
“Maybe. In any case, I’m glad you’re here.”
“So am I,” she admitted, and realized she truly meant it. “It’s nice not being the only one who speaks English. Although Lothar manages very well.”
“We’ll have to make sure our children speak both languages,” Kari said innocently, and her mouth dropped open. It was too soon to be thinking about children. Wasn’t it?
Before she could think of a response, a knock interrupted them. An elderly orc female entered, her silver hair in elaborate braids and her eyes sharp with intelligence.
“Jana, this is Merow, our healer,” Kari said. “Merow, Jana just saved King Ulric’s mate from poison using an herbal antidote.
Merow’s eyes lit up with interest.
“Indeed? Which herbs did you combine?”
She described the antidote she’d created, warming to the topic as Merow asked detailed questions about quantities and preparation methods. The older female’s knowledge was impressive, and she found herself leaning forward eagerly as they discussed the medicinal properties of various local plants.
She barely noticed Kari’s satisfied smile as she watched them talk, too absorbed in comparing notes with someone who shared her passion for both herbs and healing. They were deep in conversation about a promising native fungus when heavy footsteps approached.
She turned to find three massive orcs filling the doorway - Lothar and his brothers. He immediately came to her side to introduce her to his brothers. Wulf carried himself with quiet authority, and she had no trouble picturing him as the leader of the clan. The other brother, Egon, was even larger than his siblings, his scarred face stern until he gave her a shy, surprisingly sweet smile.
“You are welcome amongst us,” he said quietly.
She believed he meant it, but she noticed the flash of something raw and painful in his eyes as he watched his brothers with their mates. Her heart ached for him - she recognized that particular loneliness, the feeling of being on the outside looking in at others’ happiness.
“We would normally celebrate with a feast,” Wulf said, “but Lothar mentioned you might prefer something quieter.”
“Thank you,” she said immediately, relief washing over her. The thought of being the center of attention among strangers had made her stomach churn. “I’d much rather just spend time with family.”
Family. What a wonderful thought.
Lothar’s hand found hers, squeezing gently as servants brought in platters of roasted meat and vegetables. The familiar gesture steadied her as they settled around the table. The atmosphere was warm and intimate, worlds away from the rigid formality she’d feared. Even Egon’s stern expression softened as Kari drew him into conversation about recent hunts.
But as comfortable as they made her, it was still a relief to take a walk alone with Lothar, the night air cool against her skin. He led her through the village, torches flickering in the gathering dusk and casting a warm light over the neat wooden buildings. Villagers called out greetings, their voices friendly even as they kept their distance.
“Wulf asked them to give you space,” Lothar explained, his hand warm against her lower back. “Time to adjust before meeting everyone.”
“Thank you. Though I’ll need to get to know them soon enough.” She looked up at him. “Merow asked me to help her and I’m looking forward to it.”
He stopped walking, turning to face her.
“Does that mean you want to stay? Here, with me?”
“Yes.” The word came easily, naturally. “This feels right. Like where I’m meant to be.”
His smile lit up his entire face as he led her to a small house set slightly apart from the others. Inside, the rooms were spare but comfortable, with simple furniture and fresh rushes on the floor.
“This is Egon’s house, but he insisted we stay here until I can build us our own home.” He sighed. “He said he’s planning on leaving the village for a while.”
“Why?”
“He says it’s because he wants to track Khorrek and see if he can find out more about whatever Lasseran is plotting, but I don’t think that’s the only reason. He wants a mate as desperately as we did but he thinks he’s too big and frightening for any female to choose. It is… hard for him to see our happiness.”
Her heart ached for the lonely male, but she understood why he might choose to leave. Hadn’t she chosen isolation in order to avoid pain?
But I’m not alone any more, she thought as Lothar swept her into his arms with a playful growl.
“Enough thinking about my brother,” he said, carrying her toward the bedroom. “I want to properly welcome my mate home.”