"I’m not the Fiona from before, Leo. To be honest, I don't want to be." I sighed, feeling the weight of the invisible crown I had carried for a century finally dissipate. "Being an orc gave me the freedom I never had. No one expects me to be a trophy wife or a political bargaining chip. They expect me to work and to fight. I like that."
"And Malek?" The curiosity in his voice was tinged with caution. "Does he know that if the curse is broken, you’ll go back to being Princess Fionnuala? That this green skin and these claws will disappear?"
"We haven't talked about the 'after.' Right now, there’s only the present. The Orb brought me to Oksha for a reason, Leo, and I’m following it. I don't know if I want the curse to be broken if it means going back to the golden cage of Ceilte."
"You’re risking everything," he whispered. "Your life, the Ruk’hai’s, our father's..."
"I’m risking it to achieve the peace Father always dreamed of, Leo. But for that, I need Malek’s strength and your voice as heir. Alone, I’m just a cursed female. Together, we’re the only chance to avoid a massacre."
Leone looked at his own healing wounds and then back at me, his blue eyes shining.
"You’re the most important person in my life, Fi," he said at last. "And I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you."
"You don't need to protect me anymore, brother." I smiled, baring my fangs. "Just help me when the time comes to face the Courts."
It was his turn to grin as the Kerridan determination shone on his face.
"You can count on me, sister. Always."
"Always."
???
When Malek returned with the elder, Kroshak, the tension in the cabin tightened like a drawn bowstring. Kroshak’s milky-green gaze settled on me, unblinking, and a chill crawled beneath my skin. I felt laid bare under his scrutiny, as though he could see straight past the orc form, into the High Fae I struggled to conceal.
"The Ruk’hai told me your story," Kroshak said in Okshakai, not beating around the bush. "He said you are a kir’shakur. And this is your brother."
"I’m Fionnuala Kerridan," I replied. "And yes, this is my brother, Leone Kerridan, heir to Ceilte."
The elder approached Leone, who tried to stand but couldn’t due to lingering pain in his limbs. Uruha had to apply more salve to his wounds. Unlike me, he didn't have the orc metabolism, which was much faster than that of a High Fae, to heal himself.
Kroshak examined him without showing any emotion.
"A wounded kir’shakur in our home," he murmured, his voice thick with suspicion. "What is it you want with us?"
Leone looked at me, waiting for me to take the lead despite understanding what the shaman had said. I felt Malek’s gaze on my back and took a deep breath.
"Urkur," I replied, the word for "peace" sounding heavy on my tongue. "Malek and I made a bargain. I’ll help him achieve peace for Oksha, and in exchange, he’ll protect us."
The elder arched an eyebrow, skepticism etched into every wrinkle of his face.
"Peace with Ceilte? You’re too young to understand the weight of those words, ashkre. Centuries of blood separate us. Alasdair will never accept peace with the Oksha. Never."
"He will," I countered, confident. "We’re his children. If he knows that peace is the only path to protect us, he’ll do the right thing."
Kroshak let out a sound that was half-sigh, half-growl, turning his milky gaze toward Malek.
"Do you trust the word of a kir’shakur, Ruk’hai?" The question was a trap, a reminder that, to the clan, I was still the enemy.
"She isn’t a kir’shakur. She’s my krash’uk," Malek replied without hesitation. His voice echoed through the wooden walls, charged with an authority that made the very air vibrate. "I trust her."
The elder stared at me for long seconds before shifting his gaze to Malek's shoulder, where the mark of my bite stood stark against his green skin, bruised a deep purple. The revelation caused his eyes to widen in shock, and he murmured something in Okshakai, a prayer or a curse that I could not understand.
"Have you mated?" he asked.
"Kar," Malek replied. He didn’t flinch, nor did he apologize. On the contrary, he stood by my side, his presence reaffirming that what happened wasn’t a mistake, but a choice we made to be together.
Kroshak's face lost any remaining trace of emotion, becoming a mask of stone carved by time. He stepped back, running a hand through his thin white hair. For the Oksha, mating with a kir’shakur wasn’t just a scandal. It could change the very course of the Ruk’hai’s lineage.
