Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Wrong. Something was wrong.
Khorrek’s eyes snapped open but the world refused to focus. Shapes blurred. Colors bled together. His head felt like someone had split it with an axe. What happened? Where—
The tent spun around him. Or he spun. Impossible to tell which. He reached out, searching for her, but the bedroll beside him was cold.
Thea.
Panic cut through the disorientation like a blade. He lurched upright too fast and the world tilted sideways.
Breathe. Focus. Find her.
But his limbs felt sluggish, as if he’d been drugged. No, not drugged. Enchanted.
The realization hit like a fist to the gut. She did this. She made sure I couldn’t follow. Couldn’t stop her. Fury and terror warred within him. His Beast roared. Demanding action. Demanding her.
He forced himself to his feet, stumbled, caught himself against the tent pole.
Move. Find her. Protect her.
The simple commands focused him and cleared the fog enough to function. He staggered out of the tent and nearly fell again. The camp was too quiet, too still. It wasn’t the peaceful quiet of warriors resting. This was different. Unnatural.
Everyone’s asleep. Everyone except—
Two figures sat by the fire. Lyric. Jaella. Both watching him with expressions he couldn’t read. Pity? Concern? Guilt?
“Where is she?” His voice came out rough. Dangerous.
Lyric stood slowly, her hands raised in a placating gesture.
“Khorrek—”
“Where. Is. She.”
“The Stone Circle. She’s performing the ritual.”
He should have expected the words, but something in Lyric’s tone—the careful gentleness—sent ice through his veins.
“She went alone.” Not a question.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Lyric exchanged a glance with Jaella, some silent communication he couldn’t decipher.
“Because the ritual requires sacrifice. And she chose to be the one to make it.”
Sacrifice. The word seemed to vibrate in his head.
“What kind of sacrifice?” Each word had to be forced past the growing horror.
“We don’t know exactly. The Old Gods—”
“The gods?” he snarled, “She’s facing gods alone and you let her go?”
“It wasn’t our choice to make.” Jaella’s voice was maddeningly calm. “It was hers. Freely given. Willingly chosen.”
“The hell with that.”
He turned toward the Stone Circle and broke into a run. Lyric called out behind him.
“Khorrek, wait! You can’t interfere! If you disrupt the ritual—”
He didn’t listen. Didn’t care.
She’s mine. My mate. My responsibility to protect.
His Beast agreed wholeheartedly, pushing him faster, harder.
The circle materialized through the pre-dawn darkness, the massive stones rising like silent sentinels. But something was wrong.
Mist surrounded the circle, thick and impenetrable. Unnatural.
Magic. Divine power. Things I don’t understand and can’t fight.
He didn’t slow, plunging directly into the mist. Icy cold slapped him in the face, stealing his breath and freezing his lungs.
But worse was the disorientation. The world had disappeared, everything swallowed by blank whiteness. No up. No down. No direction at all.
“Thea!” His roar was swallowed by the mist. Muffled. Impotent.
He stumbled forward with his arms outstretched, searching.
She’s here. Somewhere. I just need to find her.
The mate bond thrummed in his chest. Steady. Alive.
She’s still breathing. She still exists. Not gone. Not yet.
He focused on that connection and used it as a compass. There. That direction. I think. He moved forward, one careful step after another. The mist pressed against him, heavy and oppressive. Time lost all meaning. Minutes felt like hours. Or maybe it was the reverse.
How long have I been searching? How long since she entered? How much time do I have left?
No answers, just the endless white emptiness.
“Thea!” He called again and again, his voice growing hoarse.
The mate bond pulsed, stronger when he moved in certain directions and weaker in others. A game of hot and cold with her life as the prize. He pressed forward. Relentless.
His outstretched arm struck something hard and unyielding. Stone. He traced it with his hands. Rough. Carved. One of the circle’s monoliths.
Progress. I’m inside the circle. Closer.
But the mist remained impenetrable.
Come on. Where are you? Give me a sign. Anything.
The bond pulsed urgently, almost frantic. Something was happening. Something was wrong. He roared her name again, fury and desperation combined.
“Enough.”
The voice came from everywhere and nowhere. Male. Ancient. Harsh as grinding stone. Not Freya. Someone else. Something else.
He spun, searching for the source.
“Where is she? What have you done with her?”
“She made her choice. Accepted her fate. You have no place here, orc.”
“The hell I don’t. She’s my mate.”
“A bond forged in mortal flesh. Meaningless against divine purpose.”
“Meaningless?” His Beast surged, close to taking over. “She’s everything. You can’t have her.”
“Cannot? You dare dictate terms to gods?”
“I dare whatever it takes to protect what’s mine.”
A long silence.
“Interesting. Most would flee. But you charge forward. Fool or hero? Perhaps both.”
“I don’t care what you think of me. I want Thea.”
“Want is irrelevant. She volunteered, offered herself willingly. Her sacrifice restores the balance.”
“Then take me instead,” he said immediately.
“You?”
“Yes. Whatever she offered, I’ll give it. Whatever price needs paying, I’ll pay it. Just let her go.”
Laughter rolled through the mist, not cruel, but not kind either.
“You don’t even know what you’re offering. What the cost entails.”
“I don’t care.”
“She becomes a vessel, a conduit for divine power. Lost to herself and her world until the restoration is complete. That could be years. Decades. Centuries.”
The words hit like blows, each one worse than the last.
But his answer didn’t change.
“Then make me the vessel. I’ll do it. Willingly. Just spare her.”
“Why? You barely know her. Met her less than a moon ago. Why sacrifice everything for someone so newly entered into your life?”
“Because she’s mine.” The words came from somewhere deep inside him. “Because she saw me—the monster Lasseran created—and chose me anyway. Because she gave me hope when I had none. Purpose when I felt lost. Because she deserves a future and I’ll be damned if I let you steal it from her.”
Another long silence.
He waited, breathing hard, his fists clenched.
Please. Please let this work. Let me trade places. Let her live.
“Very well.”
His heart leapt. Hope flaring bright.
“If you can reach her, I will release her. Allow you to take her place.”
“Where is she?”
A faint golden light appeared in the distance, barely visible through the mist but warm and beckoning
“There. But understand—the path between here and there is not empty. It’s filled with truth. With consequences. With the weight of every choice you’ve ever made.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You will. Take a single step and you’ll know. But once begun, you cannot turn back. Cannot pause. If you hesitate, if you stop, she’s lost forever and you with her.”
He stared at the light. At the impossible distance between him and salvation.
Truth. Consequences. The weight of my choices.
He’d made terrible choices. Followed Lasseran’s orders without question. Hurt people. Killed people. The guilt lived in his chest like a constant ache.
Is this my punishment? To face what I’ve done? To feel the pain I’ve caused?
Probably. But he didn’t care.
She is worth any price. Any punishment. Any pain.
“I accept.”
“Then go. Reach the light before time runs out. Save your mate. Or die trying.”
Khorrek took a step forward and agony exploded through him. Not physical pain. Worse. Emotional pain, raw and overwhelming.
He saw them. All of the people he’d hurt. The lives he’d destroyed.
A merchant caravan, ambushed on Lasseran’s orders.
“Please! We have children! We’re just traders!”
He’d killed them anyway, brutal and unquestioning. The memory hit like a blade between the ribs. He felt their terror. Their desperation. The final moments as life fled.
No. I didn’t know. Lasseran said they were smugglers. Criminals. That they deserved—
But the excuse felt meaningless.
I should have questioned. Should have looked closer. Should have cared.
He staggered but forced another step. Another wave of agony. Another memory.
A village burned. Lasseran wanted to send a message to those who refused to acknowledge his authority.
“Mercy! We’ll pay the taxes! We’ll comply! Just don’t—”
Too late. The orders were clear.
He had led the raid efficiently and mercilessly. He felt the heat of the flames. Smelled burning flesh. Heard screams that never should have existed.
Monsters. We were monsters. I was a monster.
His knees buckled, but he refused to fall. Keep moving. Reach the light. Save Thea. The mantra pushed him forward, step after agonizing step.
Each one brought new horrors. An elder trying to shield children. A woman protecting her mate. All dead. All because he’d followed orders.
I didn’t question. Didn’t think. Didn’t care.
The Beast howled. Not in rage. In grief.
We were used. Shaped into weapons. Told we were serving a greater purpose.
But that wasn’t an excuse. Wasn’t an absolution.
I still made the choices. Still acted. Still killed.
The light seemed impossibly distant, growing no closer despite his desperate progress.
Is this the test? To break me? To make me give up?
He wouldn’t. He couldn’t.
Thea believed in me. Saw past the monster to something worth saving. I won’t fail her.
Another step. Another memory.
Declar’s face, trusting and loyal.
“You really think Lasseran sees us as more than tools?”
“Of course. We’re his chosen warriors. He promised us a future.”
Lies. All lies. And he’d helped perpetuate them, encouraging his brothers to believe in false hope. How many will die because I was too blind to see the truth sooner? The guilt threatened to crush him, but beneath it—deeper, stronger—was determination.
I’ll make it right. Somehow. If I survive this. If Thea lives. I’ll spend the rest of my life making amends.
The promise felt inadequate, but it was all he had to offer.
He pushed forward, step after brutal step.
The memories continued. Relentless. Merciless.
Every person he’d hurt. Every life he’d destroyed.
Every choice he regretted. They battered him like physical blows.
His vision blurred. Tears or blood or something else entirely.
I’m sorry. Gods, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I should have known. Should have questioned. Should have been better.
But apologies didn’t resurrect the dead. Didn’t ease their suffering.
All I can do now is move forward. Try to be better. Try to deserve the second chance she’s given me.
The light flickered. Dimming.
No. Not yet. I’m close. So close.
He fell to his knees. He couldn’t help it. The weight of his sins pressed down on him like a thousand stones. Too much. Too heavy. Can’t—
Yes you can. Get up. Keep moving. For her. For them. For everyone who deserves better than what Lasseran offers.
Somehow he forced himself to move. Crawling when he couldn’t walk. Dragging himself forward through sheer stubborn will.
The light is everything. Focus on the light. Ignore the pain. Ignore the guilt. Just reach the light.
His hand stretched out, his fingers grasping. So close. Almost there. One more surge. One final desperate lunge.
His fingers touched warmth. Golden. Brilliant. Alive. And the world exploded. He felt himself dissolve. Scatter. Become something other than flesh and bone.
Is this death? Transformation? Redemption?
He didn’t know. Couldn’t tell. All he knew was that he’d reached the light. Completed the test. Paid the price.
Thea. Please let her be safe. Please let this have been enough.
The thought was his last before consciousness shattered into a thousand brilliant fragments, and Khorrek knew nothing more.