Page 7 of The Orc Outcast's Conquest

If he hadn’t been born with magic, he would never have had to worry about it. He could have vented his vile anger like all the other warrior orcs instead of hiding here in Rove Wood.

He would change that now. Magic or not, he would go.

Viravia’s cheeks heated to a bright pink, and she tucked her black hair behind her ear. Embarrassment was a very human emotion and Govek’s irritation dimmed at the sight of it.

“Can I come in?” Her voice was a bare whisper.

He moved aside, backing away into his kitchen so she could enter without having to skirt around him. For what it was worth, she’d recovered from her fear before she crossed the threshold.

She was flush, chest rising and falling in soft tandem. Her cheeks still colored, lips red, and her hair was wind stroked. His late brother’s mate was the epitome of human beauty.

It rendered Govek even more disgusted that he could think of his brother’s woman this way.

He truly was vile.

He returned to the task of packing supplies from a cabinet he’d carved and oiled himself. The kitchen had been his own design, and he had used it far more often than an orc typically would. His hearth was lined with the stonework he’d chiseled. His furniture and trappings were all handwrought.

Perhaps another clan member would take it. One who would have no use for the full kitchen since they would be welcome to eat in the Hall. One who would put all four chairs at the table to use, visiting and playing betting games. Or enjoy the small seating area off the kitchen to its fullest, since they would spend their time in the company of others.

“You’re . . . you’re really going?”

He shot a glance at Viravia, his eyes lingering on her swollen stomach. She stroked her hand down it protectively, as any expectant mother would. “Yes.”

Her breath left her in a rush. “Govek, you can’t.”

He snorted. His father thought otherwise. “I was given a command.”

“A stupid, foolhardy command,” Viravia said, earning a degree of interest from him. Most would not dare insult Chief Ergoth so plainly. She continued without preamble, ruining the wry humor Govek had gained. “You should take me on as your conquest, Govek.”

Bubbling fury coated his throat and threatened to spill from his mouth. He kept his teeth clenched hard as he rasped, “No.”

The woman’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t mean for us to be mates, Govek. Just partners, friends, and this babe is... he’s already your kin. None would argue if you took him on as your son.”

“No, Viravia,” he managed, trying to keep the snarl from his tone.

“Tavggol would?—”

Govek slammed his fist so hard into the wooden countertop it exploded, snapping off the corner. Viravia yipped and skittered away. His hand stung from the impact. The cuts on his palm broke open anew.

“Do not speak of what my brother would have wanted,” Govek snarled. Tavggol was the only male in this fucking clan that had ever given a shit about him. He could never betray his brother in such a vicious way.

The idea of taking his brother’s widow for his own mate made bile rise in his throat. And he could not risk the health and safety of his nephew by acting as his father.

Govek’s brutal strength combined with his magic was too dangerous to be around anything so fragile and precious.

To her credit, Viravia did not flee.

Remorse clouded Govek’s fury as he examined the damage he’d done to his counter. His mind raked over the steps it would take to repair it. He managed to sheath his claws.

“You needn’t worry, Viravia. Your child will be the next clan leader, as all here desire.”

“I don’t care about that.”

Govek took pause, brow furrowed.

“All I want is for this clan to be safe so that he can grow without fear. In peace.” She rubbed her pregnant stomach tenderly again and Govek’s shoulders sagged.

It was an ill-begotten, but lovely, wish. One he knew his brother had held dear as well.

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