Chapter 5 Saela #2
"Oh, there are more coming," Ursik says cheerfully, apparently oblivious to my horror. "Every family wants to contribute tokens. It's considered an honor to help bless Cupid's chosen couple."
The room tilts slightly around me. More gifts. More expectations. More evidence of how thoroughly trapped I am in this web of misunderstood traditions and divine intervention.
"Ursik," Kai's voice carries a warning that finally penetrates his enthusiasm. "Maybe save the details for later."
"Right, right. I'll just—" He gathers up his gifts with exaggerated care, then pauses at the door. "Welcome to the clan, little bird. We're honored to have you." Kai follows him out.
The sincerity in his voice makes guilt twist in my stomach. He genuinely means it, genuinely believes that being chosen by their warrior god is something I should celebrate. How do I explain that what feels like honor to him feels like suffocation to me?
After he leaves, Shae gestures to the food she's brought. "Eat. You look like you haven't had a proper meal in weeks."
The observation is accurate enough to sting. I approach the table cautiously, taking in the spread of what looks like roasted meat, flatbread, preserved fruit, and something that might be porridge. It's more food than I've seen in one place since leaving my settlement.
"The Valentine festivities," I say, settling into the chair across from Shae. "What exactly do they involve?"
Her expression grows thoughtful as she considers the question.
"According to Drogath's research, they're meant to honor Cupid the Warrior—an ancient human god who used arrows to unite the strongest couples for battle.
The whole month is dedicated to proving that bonds forged in his name can withstand any challenge. "
I nearly choke on the piece of bread I'm eating. "Cupid the Warrior?"
"You know of him?" Shae leans forward with interest. "Drogath found references in old texts, but many of the details were... unclear."
"I don't," I manage. "But I think there might have been some confusion about the, uh, military aspects. From what I know about humans, especially before the world went to shit, holidays are based around war and battle."
Shae tilts her head, considering this. "Drogath does tend toward dramatic interpretations. But the core message seems sound—that the strongest partnerships are forged through mutual respect and shared trials."
There's something wistful in her voice when she says it, and I remember that she's Bronn's mate. Whatever else I think about the clan leader's politics, Shae obviously cares for him deeply.
"How long have you and Bronn been together?" I ask, partly from curiosity and partly to redirect the conversation away from my supposed divine destiny.
"Twelve years." Her smile softens, taking on the particular warmth that people get when talking about someone they love.
"We met during a border conflict with the Ironjaw clan.
He was leading a scouting party, I was with the healers trying to retrieve wounded warriors.
He got himself nearly killed protecting our retreat, and I spent three days sitting by his bedside making sure he didn't die from blood loss and stupidity. "
The fond exasperation in her voice makes me almost smile despite everything. "Romantic."
"Oh, it gets better. When he finally woke up, the first thing he said was to criticize my stitching technique." Shae laughs, shaking her head at the memory. "I told him that if he could do better, he was welcome to sew himself up next time. We've been arguing ever since."
There's something reassuring about her story—the normalcy of two people meeting, clashing, finding common ground. It's so different from the mystical destiny narrative that everyone keeps trying to apply to Kai and me.
"He's a good man," she continues, her voice growing more serious. "Stubborn as mountain stone and convinced he knows what's best for everyone, but he genuinely cares about this clan. Sometimes that care makes him... inflexible about things that seem important for our survival."
The careful phrasing isn't lost on me. This is as close as she'll come to criticizing her mate's handling of my situation, but the message is clear: Bronn's rigidity about the Valentine ritual stems from protective instincts, not malice.
"And Kai?" I ask, though I'm not sure I want to hear the answer. "What's he like when he's not being forced into divine marriages?"
Shae's expression grows thoughtful, almost sad. "Loyal. Honorable. Careful with the feelings of others, sometimes to his own detriment. He lost someone he cared about a few years ago—a woman from one of the border settlements. The circumstances were... complicated."
My stomach clenches. A human woman. Someone like me, caught between orc politics and human survival. "What happened?"
"Border conflicts. Clan pressure. Fear on both sides.
" Shae's voice grows carefully neutral. "She died during a Stonevein raid, and Kai has blamed himself ever since.
I think that's why he resists this whole ritual so strongly—not because he objects to you, but because he's afraid of history repeating itself. "
The words soften me. Kai lost someone to exactly the kind of violence I'm running from.
No wonder he looked so resigned last night, so grimly determined to find a way out of this situation.
He's not just being forced into an unwanted marriage—he's being forced to risk losing another person he might come to care about. But he also wouldn't let me go.
A commotion outside interrupts my thoughts. Voices raised in greeting, the sound of multiple footsteps approaching the longhouse. Shae glances toward the door with mild curiosity.
"That'll be more visitors," she says. "Word spreads quickly about divine miracles. Every family in the clan will want to meet Cupid's chosen before the day is through."
My heart sinks. More people. More expectations. More gifts and traditions and careful attention to my every reaction. The walls of the longhouse seem to close in around me, beautiful and well-crafted and absolutely inescapable.
But before the panic can fully take hold, the door opens to admit two more orcs—a lean male with blue-green eyes and shoulder-length black hair tied in a neat bun, and behind him, Kai, looking harried and slightly annoyed.
"Falla," Shae says with obvious pleasure. "Perfect timing. Come meet our guest."
The healer—because that's obviously what he is, given the leather satchel of supplies slung across his shoulder—approaches with a direct gaze that seems to catalog every detail of my appearance in seconds.
His assessment is clinical rather than judgmental, but thorough enough to make me shift uncomfortably in my seat.
"Human," he says finally, as if confirming a diagnosis. "Malnourished, exhausted, probably dehydrated. When did you last have a proper meal?"
The blunt question catches me off guard. "I... yesterday? Maybe the day before. I don't really remember."
Falla makes a disgusted sound. "Typical. Kai, why isn't she eating?"
"She is eating," Kai says, gesturing at the partially consumed meal in front of me. "Shae brought breakfast."
"Not nearly enough." Falla settles into the chair beside Shae and fixes me with a stern look. "You're going to eat everything on that tray, drink at least two cups of water, and then we're going to discuss proper nutrition for humans living in mountain climates."
Despite everything, I find myself almost smiling at his matter-of-fact bossiness. There's something refreshing about someone who treats me like a patient with specific needs rather than a mystical gift to be handled with reverent care.
"Falla takes his healing responsibilities seriously," Shae explains with obvious affection. "He'll have you healthy and properly fed within a week, whether you cooperate or not."
"Cooperation makes the process more pleasant for everyone involved," Falla says dryly. "But it's not strictly necessary."
His tone is so perfectly deadpan that I actually do smile this time. The expression feels strange on my face—it's been so long since I've had anything to smile about that the muscles feel rusty.
"There," he says with satisfaction. "Much better. You look almost human when you're not scowling."
"Falla," Shae warns, but she's trying not to laugh.
"What? It's a medical observation. Prolonged stress causes muscle tension in the facial region, leading to—"
"Leading to you getting smacked if you don't stop analyzing our guest like a specimen," Kai interrupts, but there's warmth in his voice. I can tell that when he said family, he didn't just mean by blood.
These people clearly care about each other, I realize.
For all their strange traditions and misguided divine interventions, there's genuine affection here.
It's the kind of easy camaraderie that develops between people who've shared hardships and triumphs, who trust each other enough for honest teasing and gentle correction.
It's also exactly the kind of belonging that I've never had and can't afford to want.
A distant shout cuts through the comfortable atmosphere, followed by the sound of running footsteps. All three orcs tense simultaneously, their casual demeanor shifting to alertness in the space of a heartbeat. Kai moves toward the door, his hand instinctively going to the weapon at his side.
"What—" I start, but Shae holds up a hand for silence.
More voices outside, urgent and overlapping. I catch fragments through the walls: "...scouts spotted..." "...Stonevein colors..." "...moving this way..."
My blood turns to ice. They found me. After everything, after running and hiding and watching people die, the Stonevein finally tracked me down. And now they're going to bring that violence here, to these people who never asked to be part of my nightmare.