Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Three days of relentless riding had stripped away the last of Khorrek’s illusions about who he’d been. Every mile north had been another thread severed. Another tie to Lasseran cut. Another piece of his carefully constructed identity left bleeding in the dust behind them.
He’d been a weapon, a thing shaped and honed for a single purpose.
Now he was just… Khorrek.
No master, no orders, and no certainty about what came next. Just him and Thea and the desperate hope that they could find sanctuary in the one place he’d always been taught to despise.
The brown mare—Thea had named her Courage, which was either adorably naive or surprisingly apt—picked her way through the rocky terrain with admirable stubbornness.
Three days of hard travel and the horse was still moving.
Still putting one hoof in front of the other despite an exhaustion that had to match his own.
A good horse. They’d been lucky—no, not lucky. Blessed. That woman in the fishing village had given them more than a horse. She’d given them a chance. He’d remember her kindness when the time came to repay debts.
If we survive long enough for debts to matter.
Thea shifted against him, still asleep despite the constant motion, the cold mountain air, the uncomfortable saddle, and every other discomfort she had to be experiencing.
She hadn’t complained. Not once.
She’d just kept working, studying the scrolls whenever they stopped and pushing herself past exhaustion because the alternative was failure.
His mate was magnificent.
Also completely insane for trusting him with her life.
The bond hummed between them, warm and steady. A constant reassurance that she was still there and still his. The mate bond wasn’t an invasion, it was an invitation. A connection freely given and freely accepted.
It terrified him because it made him feel vulnerable in ways that even torture hadn’t managed.
Because Thea could hurt him. Not physically—she was too small, too fragile for that—but in ways that mattered infinitely more. She could reject him, decide he wasn’t worth the risk, and he’d have to accept it. He would have to let her go rather than force her to stay.
She won’t leave. The bond proves it. She chose me.
But Lasseran had taught him that bonds could be severed. Nothing was permanent when magic was involved.
Stop it. Focus on the immediate problem rather than spiraling into catastrophic thinking.
The immediate problem being the small fact that they were approaching the most heavily defended border in the Five Kingdoms with absolutely no plan beyond “get past the armies and beg Ulric for help.”
It wasn’t his most brilliant strategy.
The Fanged Gate came into view as they crested the final rise before the plateau, ancient and imposing.
Two towers of dark stone flanking a passage wide enough for three wagons abreast and carved to resemble the open mouth of some enormous beast. The Fanged Gate was the only way to bring an army through the mountains into Norhaven without spending months navigating treacherous passes single file.
And both sides of it were packed with soldiers.
He pulled Courage to a halt, and grimly assessed the scene below.
Lasseran’s forces to the east. Hundreds of humans in the black and silver of Velmora, their tents arranged in precise military formations. The siege equipment was visible even from this distance.
And to the east—
Orcs. Hundreds of them. Huge warriors in heavy armor drilling beneath banners bearing the sigil of Norhaven—a mountain peak crowned with stars.
Ulric’s forces. The free orcs who’d managed to resist Lasseran’s corruption for generations.
The orcs Khorrek had been trained to see as savages, creatures who’d rejected civilization in favor of barbarism.
Lies. All of it lies.
He knew that now. He understood that everything Lasseran had taught him was designed to keep him compliant and separate him from the very people who might have helped him see the truth. But knowing it intellectually and facing it emotionally were different things.
These were his people, his true people, and he was approaching them as a traitor. One of Lasseran’s pet orcs—exactly the kind of creature they’d been fighting against for years.
They’ll kill me on sight. If I’m lucky.
Probably. But he’d face them anyway, because Thea needed safety and time. Because she needed protection from Lasseran’s hunters while she worked to unravel the curse. And if giving himself up bought her that time—
It would be worth it. Her safety is worth any price I have to pay.
He studied the defenses around the Gate, looking for weaknesses, gaps, any way to slip past unnoticed. He found none.
Both sides were too well-organized and too vigilant. It was growing late in the day, but even approaching under cover of darkness would be suicide. Lasseran’s forces sent out constant patrols, and the orcs—
Orcs had enhanced senses. They could smell an intruder from a mile away.
His Beast growled, restless and frustrated.
It wanted to fight, wanted to tear through the armies below and forge a path to safety through violence, but he forced it down. Barely.
No. Fighting gets us both killed and Thea needs us alive.
His Beast subsided, reluctantly.
Courage shifted beneath him. She was tired and hungry, ready to stop. He didn’t blame her. They all needed rest, but rest meant vulnerability. And vulnerability meant—
Thea stirred and slowly blinked awake, pushing her glasses up with one tired hand. “Where are we?”
“The Fanged Gate.”
She straightened and stared at the scene below, her eyes widening.
“That’s… a lot of soldiers.”
“Yes.”
“How do we get past them?”
He sighed. “We’re going to have to look for a pass, but I’m afraid we might have to travel a lot further. Even the narrow passes are being watched.”
“There has to be a way,” she said slowly. “Some route we’re not seeing.”
“If there is, I can’t find it.”
Her head suddenly tilted to one side, a thoughtful expression crossing her face.
“What is it?”
“I had a dream while I was sleeping,” she said, her voice hesitant. “I saw a path, small and easy to miss, leading up and around the gate.”
“A dream.” He couldn’t keep the skepticism from his voice.
“I know how it sounds. But it felt… important. Like something was trying to show me the way.”
“Something?”
“I don’t know what. Maybe the curse itself. Maybe the land. Maybe I’m just desperate and projecting meaning onto random neural firing.” She twisted to look at him. “But that’s all we have. So can we at least look?”
The pleading in her eyes made his chest ache. She was so determined, so convinced she could find answers if she just tried hard enough.
Trust her. She’s been right about everything else.
His Beast rumbled agreement, and he sighed.
Fine. What was the worst that could happen? They’d waste time looking for a path that didn’t exist. It was still better than charging blindly into certain death.
“Where?” he asked roughly.
“Maybe a half mile to the east. There’s a narrow cleft in the rock, but it opens up and leads above and around.”
“You saw all this in a dream.”
“Yes.”
“And you trust it.”
“I trust that we need to try.” She touched his arm gently. “Please.”
How was he supposed to resist that?
I’m not. She has me completely wrapped around her small human fingers.
“East then.” He urged Courage into motion, following the base of the mountains parallel to the gate and scanning the cliff face for anything that matched Thea’s description.
Nothing. Just solid stone and shadow. But he kept looking, because she’d asked. Because refusing her was apparently beyond his capabilities now. She was searching too, comparing what she was seeing against the memory of her dream.
“There.” She pointed. “That shadow. That’s it.”
He looked but saw nothing other than darkness where the cliff face angled inward. It could have been a cleft or it could have been just a trick of the light.
“You’re sure.”
“Yes.”
He guided Courage towards the shadow, half-expecting it to resolve into solid stone as they approached. It didn’t.
The darkness proved to be a narrow passage, almost invisible unless you were looking directly at it. Exactly like Thea had described.
“How did you know?” The question came out before he could stop it.
“I told you. I dreamed it.”
“That’s not a normal dream.”
“I know.” She sounded as confused as he felt. “But I don’t have a better explanation. Something… showed me. Maybe the same something that lets me learn languages faster than should be possible. Maybe the same something that pulled me through the portal in the first place.”
“Magic.”
“Probably, but I’m a linguist, not a mage. I don’t know how any of this works.” He could hear the frustration in her voice. “I’m just trying to survive long enough to figure it out.”
He understood that motivation intimately.
“Can the mare fit through the gap?” she asked, ever practical.
He dismounted and led Courage forward. He let the horse smell the passage and she snorted, uncertain but not panicked.
“She can manage. If we go slow.”
“Then let’s go.”
He helped Thea down and kept one hand on her shoulder as he guided Courage into the narrow space.
The passage was exactly as tight as it looked. The horse had to move sideways, carefully placing each hoof, but she followed his lead, trusting him to guide her safely.
Good horse. We’re definitely naming our first daughter after you.
He blinked. First daughter?
The bond sang contentedly but he pushed it aside. Later. If we survive. But the fantasy lingered, a tantalizing hope.
The passage opened gradually, still narrow but no longer claustrophobic. Angling upward in a steady climb. Exactly like Thea’s dream had promised.
How? Magic doesn’t work like this. Not the magic I know.
But he was beginning to suspect that the magic he knew—Lasseran’s twisted, corrupted version—was only a fraction of what was possible.