Page 44 of The Orc Outcast's Conquest

“And then you left to fight in the war?”

The bubble of contentment that her little scratches caused popped around him, and he straightened, gritting his teeth.

They’d sent him to his fucking death, and it was doubtful they would ever feel a moment of regret over it.

“Govek?” Miranda said quietly, but this time, her sweet voice and careful words did nothing to quell his anger.

The spring’s current was slow in the area Govek had chosen, relatively deep, with sandy banks and large round boulders jutting out to form a lazy pool.

There was a natural rock wall at the far side where only a trickle drained through. He could heat this pool and the temperature would remain long enough for Miranda to bathe.

He set Miranda down in the sand. Water lapped against the golden banks and glittered in the daylight, reflecting the reds and yellows of the dying leaves that floated down with the breeze and sent lazy ripples through the water as they landed on the surface.

He was rarely one for sentiment, but even he could admit this place helped him to forget his troubles.

He swung off the pack and found some dried meat and bread. “Here.”

“Thank you,” she said, and ate without hesitation. He went to the edge of the water and kneeled. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to heat the water for you.” He hoped he could channel his anger properly so he could accomplish it.

“With magic?”

“Yes.” His voice was strained.

Her steps drew near. “Can I watch?”

He tensed with uncertainty. He actively avoided conjuring magic as much as possible and had never had anyone request to watch him perform it.

But Miranda’s eyes were bright, and her smile was soothing, and he could not deny her either the comfort of warm water or the act of watching him create it for her.

“You will not see much. Humans cannot see magic.”

“And you can?” When he nodded, she quickly followed up. “What does it look like? In the movies it was always super sparkly and colorful. Is it similar?”

“It looks like waves of heat,” he replied, puzzling over what a movie was.

Miranda kneeled next to him then, craning to see where his hands were dipped into the water. Her neck extended and the driving urge to bury his face into it and breathe in her scent spiked right through his guts.

The pungent odor of that vile tincture she was coated in barely stopped him. The pain might be worth it.

His control was in tatters.

Fuck. He rubbed a hand over his face, yanked his hair, and fought for reason.

“Are you okay?” Miranda asked, only making his wretched need for her worse. Why did she have to be so blasted kind?

“I’m fine,” he snapped. “It just takes concentration.”

Miranda moved away, shoulders slumped. “Sorry. I’ll step over here and keep quiet.”

The sight made his fists bunch. “You don’t have to.” He broke off with a heavy sigh and admitted, “The difficulty of it has nothing to do with you.”

“You don’t have to heat the water for me. I can take a sponge bath instead,” she said. “You’ve done enough for me already.”

The idea of her shivering on the bank while trying to wash was maddening. “You are my conquest. It is my honor to serve and protect you.”

She gave a half smile and returned to her food. He flexed his hands in the water and centered his mind. Formed his thoughts around the anger that seemed ever present in his gut. It bloomed slowly as he focused on it, gingerly coaxing it to heed his will. He had to be careful.

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