The sheer, stunning force of her choice was a tidal wave of emotion that I had no defense against. It was not just relief. It was a violent, exultant joy so profound it was painful, a feeling of being struck by lightning and surviving. The beast inside me, the one that had been pacing and snarling in its cage since the moment I first saw her, let out a silent roar of pure, possessive triumph.Mine. Not by conquest. By choice. MINE.
I covered her hand with my own, and the simple contact, the warmth of her skin against mine, was a brand on my soul. This was real.
The walk back to the stronghold was a blur. The sounds of the world seemed both muted and impossibly sharp. I was aware of the crunch of our boots on the gravel, the cry of a hawk overhead, the feeling of her small hand still resting on my arm, an anchor in the storm of my own emotions.
When we entered my longhouse, my mother was stoking the fire. She looked up, her ancient eyes flicking from my face to Kael’s, then down to where my hand still covered hers. Grakka’s stony expression did not change, but I saw a flicker of something in the depths of her gaze—a deep, matriarchal satisfaction.She had seen the truth before I had even dared to name it.
“So,” my mother said, her voice a dry rumble in the common tongue, a deliberate inclusion of Kael in the conversation. “The human has made her choice.”
“She has,” I said, my own voice sounding rough, unfamiliar.
Kael did not flinch from my mother’s intense scrutiny. “I have,” she confirmed, her own voice quiet but firm.
Grakka grunted, a sound of profound approval. “Good.” She rose to her feet, wiping her hands on a cloth. “Then we will have a ceremony. There are traditions to be observed.” Her gaze softened for a barest fraction of a second as she looked at Kael. “You will be bound properly. Not as a prize, but as the mate of a chieftain’s brother. You will be of this clan. You will be one of us.”
And just like that, my formidable, terrifying mother swept Kael under her wing, taking charge of the preparations with the same ruthless efficiency she might use to plan a military campaign. I was, for all intents and purposes, dismissed. The next few days were a blur of distinctly female activity from which Iwas firmly excluded. I would catch glimpses of them—my mother, Kael, and the other high-ranking females of the clan—their heads bent together, speaking in low voices. I saw them holding up different furs, examining threads of sinew and bone beads. My mother, who had not spoken the common tongue in my presence for years, was now using it patiently, explaining the significance of the ceremonial garb, the meaning behind the vows, the traditions of the wedding feast.
I went to my brother, Kazgar, to make the formal announcement. He sat on his throne in the Great Lodge, listening as I informed him that Kael had accepted the binding.
A slow, wide grin spread across his face. “Accepted, has she? Brother, you look like a pup who has finally caught the rabbit he has been chasing for a season.” He laughed, a deep, booming sound that echoed in the hall. “Of course I will officiate. It will be my great honor to bind my brother to the little wolf who saved our water supply.” His expression turned serious. “She is a good choice, Korvak. Her spirit is strong. She will give you strong sons.”
The days leading up to the ceremony were the longest and most exquisite torture of my life. The anticipation was a living thing, a fire in my blood that refused to be banked. Every glimpse I caught of Kael sent a fresh jolt of desire through me. I saw her practicing the Orcish vows with my mother, her brow furrowed in concentration as she tried to master the guttural sounds, and the urge to pull her into my arms and tell her the words didn't matter was nearly overwhelming.
The ceremony was set for the third night, when the moon would be full and high in the sky, its silver light a blessing on our union.
When the night finally came, the air in the stronghold was electric. The entire clan gathered in the Great Lodge, the massive hall packed with warriors and their families. The great central hearth roared, its flames leaping high, casting dancing, demonic shadows on the carved pillars and the watching faces. The air was thick with the smells of woodsmoke, roasting meat, and spilled ale. A slow, rhythmic drumbeat began, a deep, resonant pulse that matched the frantic hammering of my own heart.
I stood before the hearth, dressed in the ceremonial black leather and gray wolf-pelt cloak of my clan. My brother stood beside me, his chieftain’s mantle draped over his shoulders. I waited. Every instinct, every fiber of my being, was strained, focused on the great hide-covered doorway at the far end of the hall.
The drums deepened. The crowd fell silent. And the hide was pulled back.
She entered, and the breath I was holding left my body in a ragged rush.
Grakka had not dressed her as an Orcish female. She had, with a wisdom I could not have anticipated, dressed her asKael. She wore a tunic and breeches of the softest, midnight-blue doe-skin, intricately beaded along the seams with bone and silver. A circlet of woven silver, forged by our finest smith, rested on her brow, a stark, beautiful contrast to her fiery red hair. She wore no furs, no heavy adornments. She was simple, elegant, and she looked like what she was: a warrior. The dagger I had given her was strapped to her thigh, a visible symbol that she was no one’s property.
Her eyes found mine across the fire-lit hall, and in that moment, the rest of the world and everyone in it ceased to exist. There was only her.
She walked toward me, her stride not shy or demure, but steady and sure. My mother walked beside her, not leading her like a prize, but escorting her as an equal. When she reached the hearth, Grakka placed Kael’s hand on my arm and then stepped back, her duty done.
Kazgar raised his hands, quieting the drums. “We are gathered under the eye of the moon to witness a binding!” his voice boomed. “We are a people of the mountain and the stone. We do not make our vows lightly. A bond made before the clan is a bond that cannot be broken. Korvak of the Blood-Axe Clan, my brother, my General. Do you come to this binding of your own free will?”
“I do,” I said, my voice hoarse.
“Kael, of the human lands, who bled to protect this clan. Do you come to this binding of your own free will?”
“I do,” she replied, her voice clear and strong.
Kazgar nodded. “Then speak the vows.”
He looked at her. It was tradition for the one joining the clan to speak first. She turned to face me, and her stormy eyes were serious, solemn, and shining in the firelight. She took a deep breath.
“I offer you my loyalty,” she said, her voice ringing with the hard-won sincerity of a soldier. She did not offer me love, not yet. She did not offer me obedience. She offered me the most precious thing a person like her had to give. Her allegiance. Her trust. Her back in a fight. It was a vow more potent than any flowery, human poem.
A tremor went through me. I reached out and took her hands in mine. They were small, calloused, and they fit in mine as if they were made to be there. I looked into her eyes, and I let her see everything—the general, the beast, the man. All of it was hers now.
“I offer you my life,” I said, the words a sacred oath torn from the very core of my soul. “My sword is your sword. My shield is your shield. My home is your home. From this night until my bones are dust, my life is yours to command.”
Kazgar produced a small, obsidian knife. He took my hand and made a shallow, clean cut across mypalm. Then he took hers and did the same. Blood welled, dark and crimson in the firelight.
