Page 20 of The Orc Outcast's Miracle

He tucked her against his side and bustled her back to his home, but his thoughts were focused on one simple truth.

He had never won a judgment before.

Chapter

Six

MIRANDA

Govek leaned back in his chair at the kitchen table, eyes half-mast, mouth slack, stomach bulging. Light from morning was barely breaking through, and out the window she could see frost covered every leaf on the path.

“Woman, if you keep cooking like that, I’ll grow too round to hunt,” he said and such pleasure radiated through her that she abandoned the packing and went to his side.

He dragged her down to straddle his lap, and her skirt bunched up around her hips.

God, he felt good. He was so warm it made her muscles relax. The stretch of her thighs spread around his made her want to sink down into him. She wiggled closer.

“Careful with your tempting or we will be late,” he grumbled even as he wrapped his massive hands around her waist and pulled her against him. She squirmed helplessly as need pooled between her legs. The want to drown out all her worries in him was darkly tempting.

But they couldn’t.

“How long until they leave for the trade?” she asked.

“Not long.” He loosened his hold on her as his expression tensed.

“Are... you sure you’re feeling up to it?” she asked, probably for the thousandth time since they’d returned from the hall the night before, which earned her a deep scowl from him.

She couldn’t help it. That binding looked horrible. Govek had shuddered all over. His breathing stopped and his face contorted.

“Couldn’t you fight the binding off?” she asked softly. “The same way you fought off your father’s hold on you last night.”

He shifted under her, swallowing, “I... was only able to break out of my father’s hold because I was so desperate to find you. My rage and terror built to a heinous peak allowing my magic to break the bind.”

“Don’t call your magic heinous, Govek,” she said firmly.

He let out a huff. “Even if I did, what good would breaking free from the binding do? If anything, it would prompt my father and the clan to take further, more extreme, action.”

Miranda sighed heavily. He was right. “I’m just worried about you. I don’t want you to be in pain.”

“You needn’t worry.” His eyes went soft and her heart fluttered. “I’ve long learned to work past the pain. I barely feel it now.”

She brought her hands up to his face and smoothed out his brow with her fingertips, rubbing the hinge in his jaw till it slacked, caressing the slight break in his nose.

“How did you get this again?” she asked.

“From my trial into adulthood. It is a rite of passage for hunters in this clan.” His voice was low and lazy as she continued to stroke his face. “I took down a wild boar on my own.”

“You mean like a pig?”

“Yes. A very big one. An adult is one and a half times my current height and has pointed tusks that can skewer you through with a single shake of its head. They are one of the most difficult beasts to take down.”

She shuddered. “Oh gosh, that’s... terrifying.” He snorted. “The other hunters must have been really impressed with you. How old were you?”

“Seventeen summers.” He glanced away from her. “And... they would have been... had they still been here.”

She tipped her head. “What do you mean?”

He shifted beneath her. “When I was eleven, most of the hunters relinquished that title. Those with apt skill left the Rove Woods to join the war efforts, and the few who stayed stepped into more... suitable roles.”

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