Page 1 of The Orc Outcast's Miracle

Chapter

One

GOVEK

His bones rattled and the blood in his veins scorched as he charged into the hall.

“Where is she?” His roar thundered. It echoed off the crystal leaves of the Rove Tree above him and rained down to skewer silence into the worthless frames of every male present.

Deadly silence that catapulted him into more dread.

The imprint that connected him to Miranda was like an inferno in his chest. The bright white light of the Fades scorched behind his eyes, rippling with intensity, fueled by his rage.

He could not calm himself. He couldn’t control his magic.

He couldn’t bend it to his will to find Miranda, and not one of his wretched brethren spoke up to tell him where she had gone!

He bounded over to the nearest table—a thick slab of wood that was wider than he was tall, thicker than the length of his massive hand, and as old as the woods themselves. He would render it to fucking cinders.

The orcs who had been seated there scrambled and leaped out of the way, leaving behind bowls of stew and cups of mead.

“Tell me where she is!” His words punctuated as his fist struck the middle of the table. His magic flamed out of control and burst from his knuckles on impact. Bolts of white current skittered like lightning across its surface, leaving a crack in its wake, searing his rage into the tabletop. The bowls of stew bubbled from the heat; the clay goblets of mead shattered. The scents of overcooked meat and fermented honey combined with scorched wood and burned his nose, his eyes watered.

Miranda’s scent wasn’t among them. He could not scent her here. She was gone.

Gone.

He whirled around to face the table with the humans and their mates. The women shrieked and clambered away as their orcs leaped to protect them. Their eyes were wide, their tiny fangs bared, their fists bunched. They stood frozen in shock and fear.

When they should be fucking talking.

“Where is she?” She should be with them. They should have protected her.

She’d screamed for help. He’d felt it. Now he felt nothing, and he could not focus his magic enough to find her. Light exploded behind his eyes as terror-laced agony shot through his body.

Where was she? Where was she? He could not calm. His magic refused to obey. It crackled in his palms, prickled between his fingers.

“Calm down, tough guy.”

That’s what she would have said. And she would have touched his cheek and taken his hand and dabbed at the cuts on his palm.

Govek trembled as he turned his hand over, the magic pulsed with the beat of his heart and light danced in the veins of his wrist. His claws had sunk so deep into his flesh it was a wonder he couldn’t see bone. Blood pooled in his palm, spilled over, and dripped to mar the jagged burned lines he’d scorched into the ancient wood table.

He gnashed his teeth.

“Govek! You must be calm!”

His father’s shout had him almost keyed up again. How dare Ergoth tell him to be calm when his mate was missing!

And in pain.

He could feel it through the imprint that rumbled in his chest. The scatter of her broken plea still jittered over his flesh. He’d felt her screaming for him.

He had to find her. Now.

Instead of waiting for these fools to answer him, Govek barreled toward the exit. He would find her by scent alone.

“Govek, what have you done? Look at this table! Explain yourself.” His father’s voice was clipped and left no room for argument. In any other situation, Govek would have stood and accepted whatever punishment he was due for committing such an atrocity.

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