He Faked A Limp For Six Years To Avoid Marrying Me Chapter 08

I was stunned to discover Ironvein clansfolk wore the label rough, unrefined like a badge of honor, never a shameful insult.

No rule barred women from joining boar hunts here. They held regular archery and tracking competitions between male and female hunters alike.

Word of my standoff at Hollow Creek had traveled all across the mountain ranges to Ironvein lands.

“Every hunter’s heard the tale of you standing your ground to hunt your own wedding hog, venturing deep into Forbidden Bluff Woods. You’re legendary out here!”

“I reckon that’s exactly why Kael fell head over heels for you.”

I shook my head at her assumption. Our connection stretched back six full years, long before the boar hunt standoff. It was almost a case of him owing me his life, in a way.

Six hunting seasons prior, Talen planned his very first boar hunt to win my hand. I’d worried his fake limp would keep him from catching a hog, so I snuck out after dark to map every boar trail and hidden wire game snare for him.

Midway through my scouting trip, I found Kael tangled tight in a heavy wire trap.

His face had been drained of all color back then, lips cracked and parched raw from days without water trapped alone in the timber. He mumbled deliriously, begging for a single sip of fresh water over and over.

I didn’t hesitate to empty my full water skin down his throat, spending hours untangling the sharp wire snare from his limbs. I stayed by his side until his consciousness fully returned before heading back to Hollow Creek.

As I mounted my horse to leave, he called out after my retreating form, voice bright with newfound energy.

“What’s your name?”

I twisted back atop my stallion, grinning wide and unapologetic.

“Shay, from Hollow Creek Clan lands.”

“This territory’s Hollow Creek hunting grounds—head back to your own hills before nightfall!”

He shouted a clear, cheerful agreement.

I’d returned home light-hearted that night, handing Talen every mapped trail and trap location I’d found, hoping even with his limp he’d manage to catch a boar with my help.

Talen had ridden back empty-handed at sunset, a guilty, regretful look on his face.

“I completely forgot every spot you told me about, Shay. My mind drew blank out in the woods.”

The next autumn, I snuck out to scout the trails all over again for him.

“There were hogs caught in those snares,” he’d claimed when he returned empty once more. “Other hunters outran me and claimed them first before I could reach the traps.”

Desperate to secure a boar for him, I’d knelt at every cabin door across Hollow Creek, begging each family to surrender one hog for his proposal hunt.

Lael’s warm laughter pulled me back from my old memories.

“So the two of you were bound to cross paths, it seems fate had it written from the start.”

Kael pushed the cabin’s hide curtain aside and stepped inside, a marked paper calendar clutched between his fingers.

“When shall we hold our clan wedding rite, Shay?”

He pointed to a date circled in dark charcoal ink: the eighth of June. That exact day had been the wedding date I’d dreamed of sharing with Talen years ago.

“This date works perfectly for me.”

“Every detail’s yours to decide, I’ll follow whatever you want,” Kael said softly.

Lael teased us both from across the cabin room.

“Look at Kael blushing bright red over his bride-to-be!”

Kael’s cheeks flushed even deeper at her playful jab.

Spending these quiet days with Kael made me fall for him truly, not just as a distraction from Talen’s betrayal. I’d initially ridden off with him to escape my hollow’s cruelty and my fear of growing old alone—but his quiet, constant devotion won my heart entirely.

He’d wake at dawn each morning to pluck wild bloom sprigs covered in fresh dew, weaving them into bridal wreaths for me to wear.

He learned I loved marsh bullfrog stew, so he’d spend entire days trekking through swamp lands to fill wicker baskets full of them, covered head-to-toe in dark mud by sunset, only his white teeth visible beneath a wide grin.

“Eat as much frog stew as you can hold tonight, Shay. I hunted enough for endless bowls.”

Talen had known my favorite food for six years too, yet he’d never once gone out to catch bullfrogs for me. He’d only turned up his nose at the swamp amphibians in disgust.

“Those slimy swamp creatures look identical to toads. Can’t you pick cleaner food, like Elowen’s leafy garden greens?”

Every meal I ate back home came with judgment, pressure to mold myself into Elowen’s gentle image. Here in Ironvein lands, I could pile heaps of game meat on my plate and eat without a single critical glance.

“You look beautiful even covered in stew grease, Shay.”

I blinked in surprise, wiping meat juice from the corner of my mouth with my sleeve.

“You’d call every single thing I do beautiful, you fool.”

Kael looked at me like I hung the moon and stars above the mountain peaks,

utterly devoted in every glance he sent my way. He only let that soft, silly side
show when we were alone together.

He was Ironvein Tribe’s heir, the son of our clan head, and the most
accomplished big-game tracker across all the hills—his hunting score topped
every man’s on the clan board by a wide margin.

On the eighth of June, Orla Mercer, Kael’s mother, traveled to our cabin with a
hand-stitched buckskin bridal gown she’d spent seven full days crafting for
me. Her eyes had been blinded years prior by a prize giant boar’s tusk strike.

“I heard your mother’s old wedding gown was taken from you,” the older
woman said gently. “Don’t turn this simple piece away, even if my stitching’s
clumsy without sight.”

I stared at her gnarled, scarred hands, knowing every stitch left dozens of tiny
puncture wounds across her palms. Hot tears burned my eyes instantly.

“Thank you, Ma’am. I love it more than words can say.”

I’d never called Kael’s mother that affectionate title before—we’d only just
begun our courtship, and that term was reserved for wedding day vows. But she
didn’t mind at all. Her voice shook soft as she answered my thanks.

“Yes, little one.”

We sent wedding invitations to Hollow Creek Clan, addressed only to Elias and
Maren, my blood family. I’d only planned for those two to attend our Ironvein
wedding. To my shock, nearly every man, woman, and child from Hollow Creek
rode over the mountain pass to crowd our ceremony grounds.