Chapter 10 #2
She leaned in, and suddenly I was a youngling again, transparent as glass before her penetrating stare. "Tell me true, Ruka. Her scent—does it haunt you? Does it wind through your thoughts like smoke, until you can think of nothing else?"
The word felt like defeat and relief mixed. "Yes."
"And when other males look at her—when they dare to stand too close, to share her air—don't you hunger to teach them what it means to covet what isn't theirs? To write the lesson in blood and bone?"
Fire licked through my veins at the memories. Every Orc whose eyes had lingered a heartbeat too long on Jordan's face. Every accidental touch that had flooded me with murderous rage. Kael, poor fool, still working double shifts because he'd been stupid enough to let his desire show. "Yes."
Sarsa's voice softened, which somehow made her next words slice deeper. "And now that she's gone—you feel it, don't you? That void. Like someone reached past your ribs and tore your heart away, leaving you to bleed in ways that have no words."
The realization hit me like a warhammer. That gnawing emptiness that had made a home beneath my ribs. The restlessness that stalked through me like a predator with nowhere to hunt. The way everything had dulled to grey, as if Jordan had stolen all the color from the world when she walked away.
"Yes." I could barely force the word out.
Sarsa sat back, satisfaction crossing her weathered features.
"Then you understand what this is. What you feel transcends mere attraction or even the love humans speak of in their poetry.
This is the sacred bond, awakened after centuries of silence.
" She leaned forward, her gaze sharp enough to cut.
"And if you let her slip away without a fight, you'll suffer that regret to your grave.
The bond doesn't choose the unworthy, Ruka.
It doesn't stir on a whim. If the old magic has woven her fate with yours, then you dishonor both of you by surrendering without raising your blade. "
I stared at Sarsa, her words reverberating through the hollow cavern Jordan had carved in my chest. Magic. Destiny. Ancient bonds clawing their way back from the grave after centuries of slumber.
The rational part of me—the part forged in combat, tempered by steel and sweat—wanted to scoff at mystical forces I couldn't grip in my fists or cleave with my blade.
But there was another part. The part that had felt reality shift the moment Jordan crashed into my world, all defiance and care wrapped in soft human skin. That part recognized the truth when it heard it.
Maybe Sarsa was right about the magic. Maybe this was primal instinct, my blood understanding what my brain refused to accept. Maybe the name we gave it didn't matter worth a damn.
What mattered was simple. When Jordan was here, the world burned bright with purpose. Without her, I was a weapon with no war to fight, going through the hollow motions of existence.
"I don't know about bonds or ancient magic," I said finally, my voice like gravel grinding against stone. "I don't know if the old ways are coming back to life or if this is something else entirely."
Sarsa watched me with those ancient eyes, patient as stone.
"But I know this." My hands clenched into fists, certainty flooding my veins like molten iron. "Jordan belongs at my side. Here. In our village. With me."
A slow smile crept across Sarsa's weathered face, transforming her stern features into something almost wicked. "Now that," she said, her voice rich with satisfaction, "sounds like a male who's finally stopped being a stubborn ass."
She pushed herself to her feet with a grunt, brushing dust from her robes. "But what do I know? I'm just a crazy old woman who talks about magic and mate bonds."
The sarcasm in her tone was thick enough to cut with a blade.
Something broke loose in my chest—a dam I hadn't even known I'd built. Before I could think better of it, I caught Sarsa in an embrace and lifted her clean off the ground, spinning her around like she weighed nothing at all.
"Put me down, you oversized fool!" Her voice cracked with indignation, but there was laughter underneath it. She swatted the back of my head hard enough to make my ears ring. "I'm not one of your training dummies!"
I set her down carefully, unable to stop the grin splitting my face. My cheeks actually ached from it—when was the last time I'd smiled like this? Really smiled, not the grim baring of teeth before battle, but genuine joy?
"You're going to crack my ribs," she muttered, smoothing her robes with exaggerated fussiness. But her eyes danced with warmth, and I caught the pleased quirk of her lips she tried to hide.
"Thank you," I said, and the words felt too small, too simple for what she'd given me. Not just permission—liberation. A key to unlock the cage I'd built around my own heart.
"Bah." She waved me off like I was a persistent gnat. "Stop standing there mooning at me like a lovesick tuskling. You have a mate to claim, don't you?"
I didn't need to be told twice.