Page 66 of The Orc Outcast's Conquest

“Then I guess you don’t need guidance.”

“Riabell’s guide humans, not orcs.”

“Fine, I don’t need guidance then. I’ve got you for that, right?”

“Yes,” he soothed, taking her hint. He jerked his arm toward the creature, startling it into flight. It rose above the canopy with brilliant bursts of its wings and disappeared.

His woman relaxed slowly, rewarding him with a deep sigh and a caress to the back of his neck. “Th-thank you.”

He nodded, returning her to the spring, pondering on her description of the bird’s call. A warning siren. What in her world needed such warnings? And why was it so terrible that it caused her mind to fracture?

Her world exploded. What could cause such devastation?

His throat tightened, but he would not prod. It would do no good and he did not want to dim his relief.

She had not fled because he’d scared her or disgusted her. Or even because he’d admitted his longing to take her as a mate.

Which meant . . . would she consider it?

He set her down on the same stone and gave her a good once over. She was no worse for wear. A little sandy still. He brushed the rest of it off her arms and sides and out of her wet hair.

He tried to keep to the task of checking her over, searching for any cuts or bruises on her tender flesh. But his mind kept returning to those precious, incredible moments they’d had in the spring.

To think, a few days prior he’d been certain of his swift death at the hands of the Waking Order.

“Govek?”

Miranda’s sweet voice drew him from his thoughts. She wrapped her bare feet around his legs and stroked her toes up the back of his thighs. “You okay?”

Fuck! That should not feel so good. And she should not smell so fucking sweet so soon after she’d had a release. It should have taken half a moon, at least before she was willing to receive him again. Half a moon and a mountain of fox furs and berries and even a few tinctures for good measure.

But it hadn’t. The honeyed scent of her could not be denied.

He did not deserve such bliss. “Where are your shoes, woman?”

She gestured to the ground, and he huffed with embarrassment that he hadn’t noticed her shoes right at his feet. Other than the shoes, which were strangely intricate, she also had a pair of tiny trousers that may as well have been a blasted handkerchief. The useless scrap of filthy fabric was better left abandoned on the rock.

Govek went to retrieve his own abandoned slacks, cloak, and pack, and returned to her. “Are you hungry?”

“Always.” Her voice was husky from screaming, but the tone was lighter. She was overcoming the darkness more swiftly than he expected.

She was strong. His chest swelled with pride.

He handed her some dried elk meat and more hard bread. He would need to hunt for her soon.

“I have your bag here. Do you want anything from it?” he asked, after searching through his things and finding her blue pack tucked near the bottom. Did she have any extra clothes within it?

Her brow pinched. “No. I don’t want it. God, to think I’m polluting your world with plastic. That stuff should have stayed on Earth.”

Govek didn’t know what plastic was, but it didn’t matter. She clearly missed some aspects of her fallen world, and one day, she may want these few remnants. He would keep them until she did. He shoved the blue bag back to the bottom of his pack, out of the way.

He’d found his extra shirt when her voice broke. “Was this... meant for someone else?”

Glancing up, he found her fumbling with the edge of the cloak, eyes wary, as if worried what his response might be. “What?”

“It isn’t big enough for you. Did you bring it for someone in particular?”

Catching her discomfort, he said, “I made it for you.”

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