Fated To The Orc King

Chapter 12

▪️B A L D U R▪️

It had been four days since Izara sacrificed her life for mine.

The sound of my raspy mutterings accompanied me while my boots scraped across the smooth stone floor. I paced in front of a large window in the castle's library, my shadow dancing across the walls while I glanced at my reflection in the glass panes.

There was a permanent scowl etched across my brows, darkening my already solemn appearance. The intense glower had been there ever since I returned days earlier, carrying a lifeless Izara.

I had not been prepared to have her death on my hands.

Memories of what had occurred since the great tremor consumed my mind, twisting the relentless grimace that imprinted itself upon my haggard face.

Looking down at my open palms, I observed the pale and calloused skin staring back up at me and my upper lip curled into a snarl. I should have known better than to listen to Izara, but she had such faith in me that I found myself not wanting to disappoint her.

"You bloody fool!" I chastised myself.

I really should have known better, for these hands of mine were only good for one thing, death.

As the Orc King, it was my job to ensure that the inhabitants of the Isle of Wrobel remained safe. Even though I may have been feared because of my magic, I had never once abused my power. I would never kill anyone, at least without a proper reason.

Where the fae were concerned, even though they were our sworn enemy, I applied the same reasoning. If we stumbled upon an encampment in the forest, I would usually leave them with a warning, unless they were causing trouble, which would result in them meeting with the end of my blade.

Keeping peace on the isle was of utmost importance to me and sometimes to maintain such, meant taking a life.

It never felt good to have someone innocent die by my hands, especially when it was something that I should have had control over. Which was why I refrained from using certain aspects of my magic, for it never ended well.

Izara had been confident that I could return her life force.

Why had I not insisted more that she returned to the castle? I knew that her odds for survival without me were very low. However, a chance was a chance, no matter how small, and I should have insisted that she took it.

Over these last four days, I had been trying to come to terms with my feelings for Izara.

It was obvious, even to me, that she had somehow managed to sneak through my emotional defences. Seeing her sacrifice herself for me was something that I had never once considered to be a possibility, especially not after the way I had treated her.

In my mind, I no longer associated her with being that annoying and deceitful human. Now, when I thought about the curly-haired beauty, I could only see her gentle smile and kind eyes and how I wished to see them again.

I clenched my hands into fists, torn between my feelings of relief and utter anguish.

Relief because I did not know how to deal with my sudden attraction to Izara and anguish due to the possibility of never getting to explore it.

Would she have even liked me back? I sourly thought with a cringe.

"Probably not..." I answered myself.

After all, I had treated her horribly up to the morning of our visit to Sigorim's grave. Just thinking of all the times I had lashed out at her made me grunt with shame. By all accounts, Izara should have hated me. However, judging by her facial expressions when we were reunited that night in the forest, I had been inclined to think that she felt something for me.