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"Thank you, wise one," I murmur, my voice hoarse with emotion. "For your counsel, your clarity. I...I know what I must do now. What I must become, for her. For us."
The seer inclines her head, a final benediction. "Go then, Grok Bloodclaw," she says, a glint of something ancient and approving in her milky gaze. "Go, and claim your destiny...and the female who holds your heart in her hands."
I rise to my feet, my spine straight, my shoulders squared. I feel different, changed, as if the seer's words, her vision, have lit a fire inside me, burning away the doubts, the denials, to reveal the gleaming truth beneath.
Lily is mine. My mate, my mirror...the bright, blazing beacon guiding me home. And I will move mountains, shatter stars, to make her see it. To win her heart, her trust...and the future that stretches out before us, limitless and luminous with promise.
With a final, grateful nod to the seer, I turn and stride from the chamber, my steps purposeful, determined. I have much to do, much to prove...but for the first time in longer than I can remember, my path is clear. My purpose, crystalline and unshakable.
I will make Lily mine. I will claim her, body and soul and the battered, aching shards of my own heart. I will show her the depth of my devotion, the breadth of my belief...and together, we will forge a bond that will shake the very foundations of our world.
A bond of equals, of partners...and of a love that will endure, unassailable, across every border, every boundary.
Across time, across tide...and whatever challenges may come.
As I make my way back to my chambers, my mind is awhirl with plans, with possibilities. But beneath it all, simmering like a sleeper, banked fire...is a hunger. A need, visceral and vital as the blood in my veins, the breath in my lungs.
A need for her. For Lily, my Red Blade...my queen.
Alone in the privacy of my rooms, I strip off my armor with quick, impatient movements, my breath coming faster, my heart thundering against my ribs. I can still feel the ghost of her in my arms, the phantom press of her lips against mine from our stolen moment before duty intruded.
Gods, the taste of her, the scent of her...it lingers on my tongue, in my nostrils, an ambrosia headier than any wine or battle-draught. I want to drown myself in her, to lose myself in her softness, her strength, until there is no part of me that isn't branded by her touch, her presence.
With a groan, I fall back onto my bed, one hand already fisting my aching length, the other fisting in the furs as I conjure her in my mind's eye. Lily, hair unbound and eyes heavy-lidded with want, with need. Lily, skin flushed and damp with passion, arching beneath me as I worship her with hands and mouth and the reverent press of my body into hers.
I imagine sinking into her slick heat, feeling her muscles flutter and clench around me as I move within her. Picture her face as she shatters apart in my arms, my name a broken prayer on her kiss-bruised lips.
With a choked cry, I spend myself over my fist, my release jetting hot and hard across my abdomen, my chest. For a moment I simply lie there, gasping, shuddering through the aftershocks as the vision of my mate, my love, dances behind my closed lids.
And then, slowly, I sit up, a steely resolve settling over me like a second skin. No more doubts, no more denials. No more letting duty, or dread, keep me from what I want.
What I need.
Lily will be mine. I will court her, woo her, win her...with every weapon in my arsenal. With patience and persistence, with tenderness and the unbridled force of my desire, my devotion.
I will make her see what burns between us. Make her feel the bond, bright and unbreakable, that binds us together across every divide, every difference.
I will make her mine...and in doing so, make myself hers. Irrevocably, eternally.
The Red Blade of the Ogre Warlord...and he, the heart that beats for her, and her alone.
Forever. I vow it, to the stars and the ancestors and whatever fates have brought us here, to this tipping point between disaster and destiny.
Forever...and whatever may come.
With a wolfish smile curving my lips, I rise from the bed to clean myself up and don fresh clothing. There is much to do, and I will need my rest, my wits about me.
Because tomorrow...tomorrow, the true battle begins.
The battle for Lily's heart...and the future that will be born from the love, the belonging, blazing between us.
I can hardly wait.
7
Lily
The training yard is a whirlwind of activity, the clang of steel and the grunts of exertion filling the air. I move through my drills with single-minded focus, my sword a blur of silver as I weave and slash and parry.
