Page 26 of The Orc Outcast's Conquest

It was fine. He was alive. Everything was okay.

But it wasn’t.

Everyone was dead.

Miranda squeezed her eyes shut, rubbed at her knees, rocked back and forth as if the motion might ease the pressing agony gripping her chest.

Her babies were dead. Why hadn’t she died with them?

How had she survived at all? She couldn’t remember how she’d gotten out of the vault. Out of the vent. A whimper broke through her lips.

“Miranda.”

Her name, spoken from that deep, rumbling voice, popped her right out of her torture.

He moved the stick into his hand and made his way to where the water was dark, though it only came up to the middle of his thigh. His green, muscular torso was starkly contrasted by the bright reds and yellows of the surrounding trees. Lord, he was built like a dream. It made total sense why she’d convinced herself he was one.

He narrowed his eyes at her before turning back to his task. He stopped next to a log jutting from the surface with the stick raised like a spear. Crisp water lapped around the damp, blackened wood. A breeze rustled the trees, moving the thinned-out leaves to let in the light of the setting sun so she could make out the planes of his face. He furrowed his brows in concentration as he peered below the surface of the water, as if he could somehow see beyond the ripples.

His arm moved so fast she couldn’t even process it. The sound of a splash was the first sign he’d lunged at all. His makeshift spear rose from the depths to reveal three still wiggling fish.

Miranda froze, shifting between shock and something darker she didn’t want to name. She was heavily dependent on this stranger. His threat of hunting her down if she fled rang harshly between her ears until it was deafening.

His eyes held her captive as he emerged from the water. His woolen slacks were now as soaked as his chest.

She worried her lip as he approached. “Are you cold? Here. Have your cloak back.”

She’d startled him again. He was expecting her to comment on something else. She glanced at the fish. “That was really impressive. You could win all the prizes at the county fair. Do they have spearing competitions at the county fair? I never actually went to?—”

“Miranda.”

She loved how he said her name. There was a slight accent to it. A lingering rumble on the “r.”

Mirrrh-anda.

He wrapped his hands around her waist again. His warm hands heated her ribs as he placed her gently on the ground.

She reached up to touch his forehead. It was reasonably cool. “Fever’s gone.”

He shook his head, eyes mirroring a deep well of bafflement she found adorable. Then he took back his cape and put it on. “We’re going back to my pack.”

“Okay,” she murmured, taking his arm again. He was so much bigger than her. So much taller. A memory flushed her as they walked. “When I was a kid, I got lost in the grocery store. The caretaker had been watching ten of us girls all at once. I was really small back then and got overlooked.”

He raised an incredulous brow.

“Okay,” she amended, with a wry chuckle, “I guess I’m still small, but I bet everyone is small compared to you.”

He huffed.

“Anyway. The store clerk let me hold his arm while he led me back to the group. Reminds me of this.” She gave his arm a squeeze. It was hard as a rock, all muscle. “He wasn’t as buff as you, not that I mind. Muscles are great. Makes me feel even safer.”

“Even safer?”

Miranda looked up into the orc’s face, blinking at his furrowed brow and wide eyes. She supposed it was strange to feel safe with him. She didn’t know him. He was a complete stranger.

An alien stranger in the middle of the woods on a different planet.

Was this a different planet?

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