Madness of the Horde by Zoey Draven

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chills ran down my arms.

The back of my neck prickled.

I stared at the voliki’s entrance and then I heard a burst of Davik’s laugh before it slowly faded away.

His footsteps retreated and then he was gone.

Shivering, I wrapped my arms around my naked body and slowly turned to face the shadowed section of the voliki. My eyes tracked over the space that Davik had stared at intently.

Because sometimes I see beings that are not there.

That was what he told me when I asked him why he was called the Mad Horde King.

Yet…I wasn’t quite sure that those beings weren’t there.

There was energy there. I felt it. I sensed it. I gathered the energy of my own gift, imagining that it filled the space in front of me before I pressed it forward, seeking, searching slowly and hesitantly for something that I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to find.

I almost gasped when I felt something pressing back. A lightness speared through me and the tight muscles in my body relaxed. My fear melted away. Whatever was there…it wasn’t an evil thing. Whatever was there felt wonderful. It felt safe and peaceful. The emotions changed abruptly and I felt my eyes well up when intense sorrow covered me like a shroud, making it hard to breathe. Suffocating.

Then the connection broke. My breath left me as if pulled from my lungs…and then whatever had been there was gone.

I was alone again. The chills on my arms faded and I realized I was crying, tears tracking down my cheeks.

Swallowing, I wiped them away, never taking my eyes off the shadowy place of the voliki.

My chest squeezed when my thoughts returned to Davik. To what had occurred between us…and then what had occurred in the aftermath.

“If you think me such a monster, Vivi, if you think it was me that killed your father then why did you beg me to fuck you? What does that make you?”

I flinched. Just remembering his words and the malice in them made my gut churn. I stole a fur throw off the bed and wrapped it tight around my shoulders. When I walked towards the fire basin, suddenly chilled, the space between my legs twinged. Muscles I never knew I had ached.

I’d finally discovered something I’d wanted to experience for a long time. So why did it make me feel so empty? Why did the place where my heart thudded in my chest ache?

Was it because of Davik’s words? Was it because I knew I’d cut him with my own unspoken accusation? Or was it because I was alone—again—and I remembered the utter despair and grief that had contorted Davik’s expression, an expression I didn’t think I would ever forget?

I chanced another look behind me at the empty space beyond his bed of furs. How often had that happened to him? And who was it that he saw?

I feared I knew.

Shivering underneath the furs, I looked towards the voliki’s entrance.

I wondered if he would come back.

I realized I wanted him to.

* * *

My dreams werepeaceful that night. I didn’t dream stolen memories but when I woke it was still dark.

The fire was smoldering in the basin and I saw a dark shadow beside the bed. For a moment, I thought it was the unseen being I’d encountered earlier, the being that had been haunting Davik.

Instead, it was Davik. His red eyes were glowing down at me as I shifted up in his bed. As my eyes adjusted, I saw his expression more clearly. And again, he looked exhausted. Last night, he’d only gotten a little sleep, since I’d woken him with his name on my lips.

I was still in that soft place between reality and dreams. I reached out for his hand and pulled gently. His knee found the furs.

“Come sleep,” I whispered. “You need rest.”

A rough exhalation escaped him. I could sense the way his muscles loosened, how something seemed to release from him.

He joined me on the furs. I wasn’t used to sleeping beside someone anymore. In my village, Viola and I had shared a bed, but I’d never slept beside a male before Davik.

His scent was different. More earthy and musky, like he’d been sweating. I found I didn’t mind, that I liked it.

It didn’t surprise me when he clasped me to him. I’d put on a tunic once I went to bed. I’d waited up for hours, waiting for him to return, but finally I’d given in to sleep. His arm came around me and I had no alternative but to rest my cheek on his chest. My palm flattened hesitantly against his bare chest. He was radiating heat like a flame.

A mere moment later, his breathing evened out. My hand rose and fell steadily on his chest. When I peeked up, his eyes were shut, his expression slack.

My heart gave that little foreign twinge again.

Then I joined him in sleep.

* * *

The horde kingslept like the dead.

I was actually worried as I gazed down at him, nibbling my lip with indecision. The sun had begun to set in the sky the following day and still he hadn’t woken. He’d barely even moved.

I’d slept longer than I usually did myself, waking with the sun bright overhead deep into the afternoon. Even then, I’d probably only roused because a young Dakkari female had brought in a meal. She’d left without a word and I’d risen to eat because I’d been ravenous.

After my meal and after I’d dressed, I sat on the edge of the bed of furs, waiting. I felt different. My body felt changed and I was sore in places I never knew existed. When I moved too quickly, I felt aching twinges and I was reminded of how deep Davik had been inside my body, the way he’d bellowed with his release, his deep, pensive expression afterwards.

Then I recalled our fight, the energy I’d felt in the shadows of the voliki, him returning early in the morning hours, pulling me close in his furs.

“Drokka,” came a voice from outside the voliki’s entrance.

My heart leapt in my throat and then I peered down at Davik. Drokka. I’d heard that before, hadn’t I? What did that mean in Dakkari? Was that the name others called him, those that didn’t know his given name?

Davik didn’t rouse so I rose from the bed, striding hesitantly towards the entrance.

Golden evening sunlight greeted me when I stepped out. As did the hulking bulk of a Dakkari male, who was clearly surprised to see me in place of the Vorakkar.

“Kalles,” the male said, his eyes flitting behind me, gaze narrowing. “Where is the Vorakkar?”

I wondered if this male was Davik’s second-in-command. What had he called his title?

Pujerak, I remembered.

“He’s sleeping,” I told him, relieved that the male spoke the universal tongue. I bit my lip. “He’s been sleeping all day, actually. I’m a little worried.”

The male leveled me a strange look, running his eyes down my body and back up. Not in a way that made me uncomfortable, but it struck me as assessing.

“Did he sleep last night?” the male asked, keeping his voice low.

I flushed.

“Not much,” I hedged.

“The night before?”

I felt the color in my cheeks deepen further.

“Not much,” I repeated. The male blew out a sharp breath. “Are you…are you his pujerak?”

The dark-haired male tilted his head at me. His eyes weren’t red, like Davik’s, but rather gold. He looked to be around Davik’s age, however, a Dakkari male in his prime.

“Lysi, I am,” the male rasped.

“What does Drokka mean?” I asked next. “Unless you’re not allowed to say.”

The pujerak’s gaze went back to the voliki’s entrance. “Drokka is the Vorakkar’s line and the designation for this horde. He is the Vorakkar of Rath Drokka. We are all Rath Drokka because this is our home and horde. You see?”

Davik of Rath Drokka.

I nodded. I shifted on my feet and then winced when I felt a deep muscle pull slightly.

The pujerak frowned at my wince. His eyes ran back down my body and then up again, as if searching for something. But I didn’t know what.

“Would you like to check on him?” I asked. “Just to make sure he isn’t…unwell.”

The pujerak’s eyes widened. Then he laughed, the sound making me start.

“Kalles, here is some advice. Let him sleep,” he said once his laugh faded. “He needs it. When he goes without for too long…”

He trailed off, his expression sobering. I thought of the shadows in the voliki last night and Davik’s stricken expression.

“He needs it,” was what he repeated, not saying anything more. Already, he was turning his back to me. Over his shoulder, the pujerak said, “When he wakes, tell him to find me. Tell him a thesper has come from Dothik.”

“A thesper?” I called after him.

“He will know,” was all the pujerak said.