Page 65 of The Orc Outcast's Conquest

Her lips trembled. “I don’t know what happened to me. On Earth. I can’t remember some of it... a lot of it. I should be dead. I shouldn’t have survived it.”

Govek gulped, the mention of her death making the imprint rage in his veins. He tried to hide it, swallow it down. She needed his aid now but he was uncertain of what he could do to quell her fear.

But at least he could help her get warm. “You should get dressed.” He crossed the beach to get the underwear and breast covering she’d thrown at him. The sun had done little to dry them, and they were basically tatters, but he brought them back to her nonetheless.

She took them and he started back toward his pack, determined to find her something more to wear. He glanced toward the still steaming pool where he had just wrung out her pleasure and gulped.

Miranda let out a little whimper, and he whipped his head back to her. She’d put on her underwear and was fidgeting with the strap of her tight-fitting top. It clung to her breasts even more now that it was wet. She grimaced, forcing him to ask, “What is wrong?”

“Just... cold,” she said, touching the wet breast covering right over her nipples.

Full, rosy-tipped breasts, plump in his hands.

Fuck, he was vile for thinking about this while she was still recovering.

She shivered again and her discomfort flooded dismay into his marrow, making the imprint roar to life.

Her face suddenly paled, and he feared she may lose consciousness. He rushed back to her side.

“Oh god! There it is again!” Miranda was trembling, terrified.

Reaching for him, she brought her hands to his chest as he instinctively curled around her, caging her in.

Fades, she clung to him in her fear. She was not running away, and she was looking to him for comfort. The imprint roared.

She stared off into the forest, searching.

“What, Miranda?”

“That! That siren. The air raid—I... I mean the warning sound. That! You know,that.” She somehow managed to squiggle closer, pressing her whole torso into his. “That sound. That sound right there. What the fuck is that? It’s not?—”

“That’s a riabell.” There were no other sounds except the rustling of wind in the leaves, so she must have been referring to the riabell’s low call.

“A-a what? What is it?”

“A bird.”

She went still, eyes huge but focused. She was not lost to him this time.

He squeezed her. “It’s a bird call. Can I lift you again?” She was already wrapping her arms around his neck before he finished the question.His flesh tingled with the contact.

He carried her part way into the woods, careful with each step and noise, scanning the tree canopy until he finally found his target. “There,” he pointed to the white bird nestled in the branches above. “That is a riabell. They enjoy hunting for fish in the springs.”

Miranda stared at the large creature. It was half as tall as her, with a long beak and longer legs.

“It looks like a heron,” she said softly. “But they’re extinct. Not enough clean water and food and?—”

She broke off, flinching as it gave a low cry. The sound started deep and built higher before trailing off.

“Dang.” She raked a hand over her face. “That’s horrible.”

“Riabell’s are considered a good omen,” Govek said carefully. “Stories say that they lead lost travelers out of the forests or guide hunters to elk herds.”

“You get lost in the woods?” she asked skeptically.

He huffed in amusement, “No.”

Miranda curled around his neck and he closed his eyes, relishing the sensation of her warmth as she willingly cleaved to him. He was certain he would never grow accustomed to it.

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