Page 37 of Bound By Blood
I think of my mother, graceful and proper, who taught me healing arts but never their true origins. Of House Thorne's reputation, built on careful alliances and political marriages. Of the life I'm expected to live, comfortable, constrained, safe.
Then I think of Drokhan's hands mapping my skin with reverent hunger. Of power flowing between us like sharedbreath. Of a sick child healing under my touch, regardless of blood or birthright.
I know what I want. But do I have the courage to seize it?
"The council's growing impatient," Drokhan says quietly. "They'll want decisions soon."
"Then we shouldn't keep them waiting." I rise, legs steadier than they have any right to be. "But first, I need to understand exactly what I'm fighting for."
Morketh's blind eyes seem to see straight through me. "Wise. But remember, understanding and accepting are different things entirely."
We leave the seer's sanctum in silence, returning through twisted passages to the grotto's main chamber. But as we emerge into phosphorescent light, raised voices echo from the entrance. Not the measured tones of council debate, but something sharper. Angrier.
Human voices.
My blood turns to ice water. I know that cadence, the crisp consonants and careful pronunciation of noble education.
"No." The word escapes before I can stop it.
Drokhan's head snaps toward me. "What is it?"
"My family. They've come for me."
Of course they have.My family would never allow their offspring to simply vanish into Orc territory. My mother's sister, Lady Jazmin pleas for me. Not when House reputation teeters in the balance. Not when political marriages and careful alliances depend on maintaining proper appearances.
"I have to face them."
"Not alone."
"Yes, alone." I turn to meet his amber gaze, drawing strength from his steadfast presence. "This is my choice to make, my consequences to bear. You've already risked enough for my sake."
"Eirian—"
"No." I press fingers to his lips, silencing protest. "Your clan needs their chief focused on their welfare, not distracted by human politics. Let me handle my family. Let me prove I can stand for what we've found."
Bind or burn. Peace or war.
Choose honestly, with full understanding of what you risk.
I steel myself against the backlash I know is coming, tears, recriminations, threats both subtle and direct. Jazmin's disappointment will cut deeper than any blade. Father's cold fury will freeze my bones. They'll speak of duty and honor and family name, of everything I'm throwing away for momentary passion.
But they won't speak of the child who breathes easy because power flowed through my hands. They won't speak of ancient bonds bridging impossible divides. They won't speak of love that transcends blood and breeding and carefully maintained prejudices.
My compassion won't be punishment. Not anymore.
I straighten my spine, adjust my healer's sash, and prepare to face the life I'm choosing to leave behind.
"Whatever happens," I tell Drokhan, "know that last night changed everything. Not just the magic, buteverything. I won't let fear make that choice for me."
His fingers brush my cheek, gentle as butterfly wings.
The voices grow louder, more insistent. Time to discover what honesty costs when everything you've ever known struggles with balance.
Bind or burn.
I choose to bind.
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