Page 24 of Her Orc Protector

"A representative made inquiries," Thornwood confirmed, her tone careful. "The details of your filing remain sealed, as per Hearth protocol. However, they are within their rights to challenge an incomplete bond claim."

Uldrek's jaw tightened visibly, though his voice remained level. "What about her rights? She filed for sovereign protection."

"Which the Council respects," Riven said, his tone gentler than his colleagues. "But you must understand the complexity. A Natural Bond claim supersedes prior legal connections only if it is complete and magically verifiable."

Thornwood spoke again. "You have three days to formalize the bond.”

"And if we choose not to rush this ritual that you're suddenly so concerned about?" Uldrek's voice was still calm, but there was an edge beneath it now.

"Then the protection afforded by the Natural Bond exception would be nullified," Pellen said flatly. "And because that claimreplaced her original filing, her sovereign protection would be considered forfeited.”

Which meant Gavriel could reach for me again—and this time, there’d be no law to stop him.

"Three days," Thornwood repeated more gently. "Return to this council with proof of formal claiming, and your protection under Everwood law will be secured."

We didn't speak until we were well away from the Council Hall, walking side by side through the narrow streets that wound away from the Heart District. The sun had begun its descent, casting long shadows across the cobblestones and bathing the western-facing buildings in golden light. Ellie still slept, undisturbed by the council proceedings or their implications.

Uldrek guided us toward a small garden tucked between two larger buildings—a quiet spot with stone benches and a trellis heavy with late-blooming moonvine. No one else was present; most of Everwood was returning home for the evening meal, the streets growing quieter as the workday ended.

We sat on one of the benches, facing each other. Uldrek waited, his expression unreadable, giving me space to speak first.

"What did they mean?" I finally asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "About completing the bond?"

Uldrek sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Orc claiming rituals are physical," he said bluntly. "A bite. Blood exchange. A kind of... resonance. It leaves a mark.”

"A bite," I repeated, trying to process this.

He nodded. "Usually on the shoulder. Near the heart. Just deep enough to draw blood. The bond sinks into the body there, leaves a trace both of us can feel."

It had started as survival. Now, it was something else—something that would live on my skin, inside of me. I closed my eyes briefly, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on me.

"Tell me the truth," I said, opening my eyes to meet his gaze. "Why did you go along with this? From the beginning—when I claimed you in the market, you didn't contradict me. Why?"

For the first time, something like uncertainty crossed Uldrek's features. He looked away, toward the setting sun that painted the garden in amber and gold.

"At first? Instinct." He paused. "You were afraid. The prick who was threatening you needed to back off. Simple as that."

"And after?"

He was quiet for so long that I thought he might not answer. When he finally did, his voice was low, almost rough. "I've been fighting other people's wars for a long time. Protecting people who needed it, and then moving on. It's what I know." He looked back at me. "But this felt different. You weren't asking me to fight for you. You were just... reaching. And something in me answered."

The words settled in the space between us, honest and unadorned. No poetry, no grand declarations—just a simple truth. Something in me reached. Something in him answered.

"I won't pressure you," he added, his expression serious. "This has to be your choice.”

I looked down at Ellie, still asleep and warm against my chest, her mouth slightly open, her lashes too long for something so small. She had slept through the entire ordeal inside the Civic Hall, as if she trusted—without question—that I would keep her safe.

"When I married Gavriel," I said slowly, carefully choosing each word, "it felt like a story I already knew by heart. Grand gestures, beautiful words, the kind of thing scholars romanticize in plays."

I wrapped an arm around my middle and looked up at the darkening sky, past the boughs of the alder-wreathed trellis, to a single silver thread of cloud unraveling across the horizon.

"But once the ink dried and the doors shut, I realized he only made space for the version of me he wanted. Anything else—anything truly mine—felt like a threat. It stopped being love and started feeling like ownership. And when I strayed too far from it, things cracked."

Even now, speaking those things aloud had a bite to them, like reopening a wound that hadn’t finished scabbing over.

"I told myself I was smart enough to see through that. Brave enough to leave, eventually. And I did leave. But it cost me everything.” I shifted Ellie slightly, brushing a loose curl from her forehead. “My name. My reputation. My faith in myself. All of it.”

I looked at Uldrek again, heart pounding. “So when you say this mark can’t be undone, I need you to understand that I don’t take that lightly. I don’t have space inside me for another mistake I can't walk away from.”

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