Page 8 of The Orc Outcast's Conquest

“This clan will be safer without me in it.”

Viravia straightened, meeting his eyes. “That’s not true. All the orcs in Rove Wood have magic. You aren’t any different from them.”

Govek nearly laughed at such a blatant lie. “Aren’t any different? Has pregnancy made you blind?”

Viravia’s brows pinched with hurt and Govek regretted his harsh words but could not take them back. Nor did Viravia have any to counter them. They both could see that Govek was not built the same as the slender, regal Rove Wood orcs. He had three times the muscle of the burliest male here.

He was built like a warrior. Like Warlord Karthoc, who was, even now, training his males at Baelrok Forge. Preparing them for gruesome battle. His cousin was determined to fight back against the Waking Order’s slaughter.

Govek would join them. He would keep Rove Wood secure from the outside. He did not understand why he still gave a shit, but his gut clenched with the urge to protect these Fade-blessed woods.

“My cousin will not allow this clan to fall.” Govek turned to his kitchen so he could continue packing. He tucked the hardened bread into a cloth napkin. “It is too vital.”

“How can the Warlord protect this clan from war when he is at the center of it?” The venom in Viravia’s tone brought back Govek’s wry amusement.

“My cousin is powerful and wise.”

“Karthoc is a war-hungry twat who will bring more death here than can be measured by graves alone,” Viravia spat, forcing an amused snort from Govek. To think this tiny slip of a female could spout such brave nonsense. He would have liked to see her face up to Karthoc.

Viravia hoped for peace, but peace between humans and orcs was all but doomed with war continuing to rage between them.

“If... if you won’t take me, then I’ll go to the Headman at Oakwall Village and speak for you.”

Govek stilled.

“Your father can’t possibly be sure that every woman there would spurn you. Not everyone believes what Yerina says. If you just told your side?—”

“It doesn’t matter.” Govek’s voice was so low it rumbled in his gut.

“But if I just?—”

“No, Viravia.” He refused to speak with her about this. With anyone. The clan could gossip, and the village could lob accusations, but in the end, what had happened between him and Yerina was private. Govek’s truths were his own. There was no use trying to change anyone’s mind. They wouldn’t believe him, anyway. They didn’t want to hear his excuses.

“You were never officially named the heir to the clan,” Viravia said, her desperation rising in tandem with the tone of her voice. “And having a conquest in order to become the heir is a stupid tradition. Why, Savili told me not even your father honored it.”

“This has never been about me finding a conquest, Viravia. No one actually wants me to sire a son,” Govek said, meeting her eyes. “You know that as well as I.”

This was about getting rid of him. Once and for all.

He balled his fists to hide his claws again.

“If you don’t lead the clan, then who will?”

“Sythcol,” Govek said, now remembering to pack healing tinctures. Magical ointments and salves that made Rove Wood Clan so important to the war efforts. It was the only reason his kind had not fallen to the Waking Order’s plunder long ago.

“Sythcol and his conjurers are far too busy making tinctures for the orc warriors to find time to lead this clan,” Viravia said.

“My father is in good health. He should be able to lead a long time. Long enough for your son to grow strong. And then he will lead this clan.”

“You can’t go to Estwill, Govek.” Viravia’s voice held a tremor. He clung to that tiny scrap of kindness like a drowning rat. “They’ll kill you.”

He said nothing to that obvious statement.

“Chief Ergoth must be wrong about the missives your mother sent from Estwill. There’s no way she could have gotten them through, even with a messenger sparrow. And five women wanting to resettle here and become conquests to orcs? From a village overtaken by the Waking Order? It’s madness.”

It was. And so was sending your only living son to his death.

“Of course, I would know your mother’s hand and scent above all others. Corine was my conquest, my mate, for six Fades-blessed years until you were born.”

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