Transactional wife

Volk watched Solluha'r closely as the noise of the cheering crowd slowly faded into the background. 

The young Elven woman, her silver like green hair gleaming in the dimming light, had just witnessed the brutal defeat of her lover, Luk'Tar. 

Her face, which had been pale and filled with sorrow, now showed the first flicker of something else—an acknowledgment of Volk's power and the harsh reality of her situation. 

Volk's voice broke the tense silence between them. "I wouldn't have done this if he didn't do that to me first."

Solluha'r's eyes flicked upward, meeting his eyes for just a brief moment before she dropped her gaze to the ground. She nodded slowly, "Yes, I believe you."

Volk was taken aback by her response. 

In her words and in the way she carried herself, he saw a strength that he hadn't expected. 

Despite the turmoil in her heart, she was willing to accept the outcome of the duel for the sake of the tribe. 

Instead of getting angry at him, she was willing to let go of her lover, Luk'Tar, because she knew what was expected of her. Her loyalty to the tribe, her sense of duty—it all resonated with Volk.

This girl is strong, Volk thought to himself. Stronger than most. 

Back in his world, women often chose their providers over their true lovers, sacrificing love for security and survival. 

He had seen it time and again—girls marrying someone else while still holding onto thoughts of their true love. 

It was a harsh reality, but one that made sense in the brutal world they lived in. 

Survival often demanded such sacrifices. 

In this, Solluha'r's decision to accept her fate didn't surprise him, but it did make him respect her. She was doing what she had to for the tribe, and he understood that.

Suddenly, an idea formed in Volk's mind, one that was as practical as it was unexpected. He looked at Solluha'r, who was still lost in her own thoughts, and asked, "How about you become my wife?"

The words were like a sudden change of weather. 

Solluha'r's eyes widened slightly, but there was no shock in her expression. 

It was as if she had expected this, she had already resigned herself to such a fate even if Luk'Tar failed and she would get together with somebody among the Dreadmaw Clan. 

Her lips trembled slightly before she nodded.

Volk could see the heartbreak in her eyes, even though she tried to hide it. 

He knew that her heart still belonged to Luk'Tar, but that didn't matter to him. 

His reasons for wanting her as his wife were clear in his mind. 

He knew what kind of woman she was—strong, dutiful, and talented. 

She wouldn't be a burden, and he wouldn't have to worry about her feelings getting in the way of what needed to be done. 

All he needed was someone who would follow his command, someone who would help him grow stronger.

Once an Elven Witch like Solluha'r paired with an Orc like him, he knew his power would increase because he would now be sensitive to mana. 

Plus, her talents were unmatched among the younger generation, and with her by his side, he would become an even more formidable warrior. And if, in the future, she is still pinned for Luk'Tar, Volk would have no qualms about letting her go. 

After all, his mission didn't require emotions—it only required results. 

She was chosen as the grand prize of the event for a reason, and that reason was her potential to elevate the strength of any warrior she was paired with. 

Volk would use that to his advantage.

Solluha'r remained silent, her acceptance without surprise or argument. She had already accepted her fate long ago, ever since she was chosen as the grand prize. But the turn of events had reignited a small hope within her—a hope that Luk'Tar might be the one to hold her. 

That hope was now extinguished, leaving her with nothing but the cold reality that it would be Volk, not Luk'Tar, who would claim her.

Volk saw the sadness in her eyes and suddenly reached out, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look up at him. 

His grip was firm but not cruel, and his voice was low and steady as he spoke. "Look," he said, "I'm not forcing you. If in the future I find someone else, I'll let you go. Then, you can go back to your lover, Luk'Tar."

Solluha'r's eyes filled with tears as she listened to Volk's words. 

She could feel the weight of his gaze on her, and she knew that he was speaking the truth. 

He didn't care about her feelings, didn't care about the love she had lost. 

To him, she was a means to an end, a tool to help him achieve his goals. And yet, there was something in his words that made her feel a tiny flicker of relief. 

He was giving her an out, a chance to return to Luk'Tar if things changed.

"You and Luk'Tar are meant to be," Volk continued, his voice unwavering. "Whatever I do, I know that you will never truly belong to me. I just need you for your talent for now, nothing less, nothing more."

Tears spilled over Solluha'r's cheeks, and she nodded her head, accepting the cold reality of her situation. 

Volk smiled, a thin, satisfied smile, and released her chin. 

"Good, good," he said, his voice carrying a note of approval. "Then there's no need to punish Luk'Tar. I'll let him live because of your decision."

Solluha'r's eyes widened in surprise as she looked at Volk, her tears momentarily forgotten. 

The insight of what he had just said struck her in the head like a blow—he would have punished Luk'Tar if she had refused. 

The thought sent a shiver down her spine, and she realized how close she had come to sealing her lover's fate with her own words.

Volk's smile widened as he saw the surprise in her eyes. "Yes, I would have," he said, answering the question that she hadn't asked. "But you made the right choice. Now, we can both get what we want."

Solluha'r could only nod again, her heart heavy with the knowledge that she had been forced to choose between her own happiness and Luk'Tar's life. 

She had chosen the latter, sacrificing her own desires for the sake of the man she loved. But in doing so, she had also bound herself to Volk, a warrior she barely knew, a man who saw her only as a tool to be used.

Everything else—the crowd's noise, Volk's voice, her own thoughts—faded into nothingness. 

The world around her seemed to dissolve, leaving only the weight of her decision pressing down on her, crushing her spirit. 

All that remained was a deep, unknown and an overwhelming sense of emptiness.

Meanwhile, Volk noticed the sadness in Solluha'r's eyes deepening. A flicker of an idea crossed his mind. 

Without warning, he wrapped his large hand around her waist, lifting her effortlessly into the air. 

He secured her against him, his right hand firmly grasping her backside while his left hand remained on her chin. 

He brought her face close to his, their noses almost touching. His voice was low, resonating with a surprising gentleness as he spoke.

"I know this is hard," Volk began, his words uncharacteristically soft. "I can see it in your eyes. You feel like a tool, something to be used. But believe me, I don't want this any more than you do. I'm in the same situation as you, forced into something neither of us asked for."

His words were like a truthful whisper of the warm wind, laden with a truth that was hard for Solluha'r to ignore. 

Volk's tone shifted as he continued, his voice growing firmer, more resolute. 

"Our tribe is in danger, Solluha'r. We're living on the edge, surrounded by enemies in this godforsaken forest. We've escaped the Dark Elven Witches and the Red Elven Warlocks, but how long can we survive like this? 

"We need strength, and that's why I chose you. Not because I wanted to, but because I had to—for the horde, for the tribe, and for the elves. Can you understand that?"

Solluha'r's voice was barely above a whisper, but she nodded and replied, "Yes, I understand."

"See," Volk said, his tone softening again, "we're in the same boat. If I had a choice, I might have chosen someone else, someone who felt the same way about me. But just like you, I don't have a choice. We're both forced into this for the greater good."

Volk's eyes searched hers, his expression serious. "So, I'm going to ask you again, Solluha'r. Do you want to be my wife? If you feel like a tool, if you truly don't want this, just say no. I'll understand. I'll choose the second most talented girl in the tribe, and we can both go our separate ways."

Solluha'r hesitated, her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and doubt. She could see the sincerity in Volk's eyes, the heavy burden of responsibility they both carried. 

In that moment, she realized that this man, despite his rough exterior and brutal strength, was just as trapped by fate as she was. 

He didn't want this any more than she did, but he was willing to do whatever it took to protect the tribe, the horde, and the elves.

Her resolve hardened. 

This was her fate, and it was Volk's as well. 

With a slow, deliberate nod, Solluha'r accepted her destiny. 

Seeing the determination in her eyes, Volk's expression changed. 

A confident smile spread across his face, and without hesitation, he leaned in and kissed her. 

The kiss was deep, intense, and it took Solluha'r by surprise. Her eyes widened, her body stiffened at first, but soon she felt herself melting into his embrace. 

The kiss seemed to last an eternity, a moment in which all of her fears and doubts were washed away by the overwhelming force of his will.

When Volk finally pulled away, he looked at her with a satisfied grin. "Tasty," he murmured, the word filled with a possessive pride.

Solluha'r blinked, bewildered by the sudden intimacy. Her mind was a jumble of emotions, and she found herself asking, "Why did you kiss me?"