Chapter 27
Leaving Oksha was harder than I had thought it would be. As soon as Drak appeared, we set off toward Ceilte alongside the soldiers, leaving behind the destruction Fenric had scattered in his wake.
I cast one last look at the village, feeling the orcs’ eyes boring into us—confusion, anger, and resentment mingling in every gaze. I couldn’t imagine how Malek would explain everything without making the situation worse. It felt horrible to leave him with that mess on his hands, unable to help, especially since a large portion of the blame lay with me. Still, I had no choice but to trust that he would find a way to handle it.
The journey to Ceilte was tense, to say the least. Walking beside a silent Drak and a restless Leone while leading an army of High Fae was hardly my idea of a peaceful stroll through the woods.
The guards of Ceilte watched us with a mixture of suspicion and shame. Most of them had already realized the mistake they’d made by following Fenric’s orders, but Fae pride—fragile as glass—prevented them from admitting it aloud.
Leone remained in charge, his calm authority standing in stark contrast to the shock and confusion left behind by the battle.
"You followed the orders of a traitor," he declared as we trekked through the forest. "Now, you’re going to help us fix that mistake. If my father isn't found, and Fenric is behind this, the only way to prevent an all-out war is by securing peace with the Okshai."
The guards nodded, unable to argue.
Drak remained at my side, alert and watchful. He didn't flash even one of his usual smiles, leaving his expression as serious as Malek’s. In that moment, I understood why he had been chosen as my Ruk’hai’s right hand.
His gaze swept the forest, searching for any movement that might signal danger. Though tall and broad, he moved with surprising silence, reminiscent of a cat-sìth. I felt a flicker of gratitude toward Malek for sending him with me. His presence was steadying—loyal as a wolf and strong as a bear. I knew he wouldn’t hesitate to protect us, even if it meant fighting beside former enemies.
"How are you?" I asked, breaking the silence that had settled between us—something that had never happened before.
The orc loved to talk and flirt with anything that moved, except for Kalisha, of course. He turned to me, his eyes as green as the foliage surrounding us, studying my face.
"Worried," he replied in Okshakai. "Oksha’s vulnerable."
"Malek will protect them."
"I know," he said, and for a moment the worry in his eyes receded. "But what happened today only shows how easy it is for the kir’shakur to invade our lands."
"I’m so sorry, Drak," I said, lowering my gaze to my feet. I had never felt more ashamed of being High Fae than I did in that moment. "For all of this."
"Don't be. It's not your fault." The sincerity in his voice caught me off guard. "You’re Malek’s krash’uk, so you’re part of the kuturo."
His acceptance sent gentle warmth spreading through my chest. Even after everything that had happened, he still saw me as part of the clan.
"Ma’kari, Drak," I replied, a small smile tugging at my lips.
The orc smiled back and winked, his playful spirit surfacing briefly before his expression turned serious once again.
"Malek’s happy in a way I’ve never seen before. And perhaps our people will finally find peace after centuries of struggle. I think destiny brought you to Oksha, akra’yn."
I shook my head. "I might be able to help with the peace treaty, but you were the ones who saved me. If it weren't for Malek, Kalisha, you, and the others, I wouldn't have survived."
He studied me briefly before responding.
"No. You’re as strong as an Okshai. The blood may be kir’shakur, but the heart…" He struck his chest with a closed fist. "It belongs to the people."
My eyes stung, a lump rising in my throat. The hardness in Drak’s gaze softened when he rested a heavy hand on my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. The warmth of that touch spread through me, anchoring me in the present. The fear and guilt receded, replaced by the conviction that I stood exactly where I was meant to be. Cursed or not, my place was with the Okshai—by Malek’s side.
A weight lifted from my shoulders. My mother had been right after all. The Orb of Caith had brought me exactly where I needed to be.
???
We reached Ceilte at dusk.
The forest gave way to well-manicured fields, and the magical barrier—the one I once believed to be impenetrable—shimmered beneath the setting sun. The guards who accompanied us lined up, and Drak positioned himself beside me, his hand resting on the axe at his waist.
"You stay here," Leone ordered the guards. "Drak and I will go in with Fiona."
