Page 59 of The Orc Outcast's Mate

“Govek, you killed soldiers that tortured your brother to death. That’s not the same as killing someone at random,” Miranda said as if the murder of her own kind didn’t unsettle her.

Just what kind of world had her Earth been?

“And isn’t your cousin a warlord? Does he fight his war without killing? Don’t other orc soldiers also kill in battle?”

She didn’t understand, and why should she? She wasn’t from this world. She did not know the will of the Fades.

Or what kind of abomination he was.

But she would find out. As much as it pained him to speak on this, Govek was determined that she hear it from his own lips rather than those of another.

“The clan of Rove Wood isn’t like other orc clans. Those born under the Great Rove Tree are imbued with magic. Blessed. Chosen specifically by the Fades to conjure their power.”

“I kinda noticed that.” Miranda glanced briefly at the males who were walking ahead of them at a reasonable distance. They looked back often, ensuring Govek did not come too close. “They’re a lot scrawnier.”

Govek blinked. “Yes, they are. They fit the human ideals far better.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. Maybe some women like a pretty boy, but I like my guys to have some meat.”

As if to prove her words, she slid her hand beneath his shirt and stroked his abdomen, dipped her fingers between the accentuated bulges of his abs. He shivered. Fuck! Her touch felt good. It blazed through his mind like a balm and made him want to fall to his knees, babbling her praise.

“And Karthoc had almost as much muscle as you. He’s your leader, right? So, don’t try to tell me that having brawn is what makes your clan wary of you.”

Fades help him! His blood boiled thinking about her noticing Karthoc’s body. He managed to gulp down the embers burning in his throat. “The orcs of Rove Wood do not have as much muscle because they can use magic.”

“So, they’re built like pansies because they can do magic? Does magic suck up testosterone or something?”

Govek could not help snorting in amusement at the comparison between Rove Wood orcs and delicate flowers. “That is the Fades design. Orcs either have magic or strength, but not both. Both is dangerous, deadly.”

“Oh,” Miranda said slowly, looking up at him. “But you have both.”

“Yes.” He was a wretch for being so relieved that she didn’t instantly understand how dangerous he was and bolt. Magic was powerful and should never be wielded by those who lacked control over their own violent rage.

“I have worked hard all my life to keep my magical gifts under control. My studies ended early in my youth when it became apparent I was growing like the warrior orcs, rather than taking the slender shape of those from Rove Wood. I have been kept away from group communions, where magical energy is thick, separated from celebrations where conjuring’s would be performed, and given a home on the outskirts so that when I do lose control, it is less likely to cause irreparable destruction.”

He’d worked so blasted hard to keep everyone in his clan safe over the many seasons, and still mistakes had been made. Orcs had been hurt by his fury. Chaos had been wrought by him. He could not be trusted.

“You’ve lost control before, right?” Miranda asked, her voice flat. “Or did they isolate you without just cause?”

Govek gulped. But she would hear this from someone. It may as well be him. “I have lost control many times. Not only am I far more prone to fighting, but the strikes I land are imbued with my magic, so they are more deadly. I have cracked tables in half with a single blow. Taken down trees. Even my preference for hunting betrays my tendency toward violence.” He swallowed hard as painful memories flooded his mind. “Once when I grew angry in the hall, I erupted soup boiling in the cauldrons and burned many in the process. That is why I am banned from eating there.”

Miranda’s face took on an oddly flat countenance and her voice was firm as she said, “If they had let you continue your magic studies, would you have better control over it?”

Govek blinked. “What?”

“They stopped you from learning, right? If they hadn’t done that, hadn’t isolated you...” Miranda shook her head.

“Miranda.” He swallowed thickly but worked the words out. “My magic is not just tainted by my anger, it is caused by it.”

Her brows rose and the calm reaction gave him strength to elaborate.

“Unlike my brethren, whose magic is sparked by meditation and serene control, my conjuring’s are fueled by fury. To connect to the Fades, I must be in the throes of rage or grief. This is what makes my magic so dangerous and difficult to control.”

He’d said it. He’d gotten it out. He watched Miranda’s face, and his breath caught, stomach twisting. Waiting.

Her expression crumbled and shock spiked down his spine.

“Oh Govek. I’m so sorry. That’s awful.”

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