Claimed By the Horde King by Zoey Draven

Chapter Thirty

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

The arrows connected, one right after another, into the makeshift target that my mitri crafted for me. I’d found it out on the training grounds one evening. He’d told me it was so I wouldn’t utterly destroy the flagpole.

It had been four days since Seerin left. My body had recovered and healed from the night before his departure, but I still ached for him. Everywhere. I thought about him too much, missed him too much, needed him too much.

I sighed, breathing hard as I stared at the arrows covering the target. I was growing used to the Dakkari bow, though it was much too large for my frame.

Odrii would usually be practicing with me, but he seemed to be avoiding me. I knew it was because of what had happened at the frost feast. I’d presented my goblet to Seerin and the horde king had accepted it.

Avuli had assured me that Odrii would get over it—that he was young and embarrassed. I felt partly responsible. I’d told the warrior that there was nothing between Seerin and I—which, at that point, had seemed like the truth to me—but I’d never revealed the extent of my feelings for the Vorakkar to my friend. Perhaps Odrii had mistaken my friendship for something more and I should’ve made that distinction clearer.

Odrii wasn’t the only one wary of me, however. After Seerin had left for Dothik, there was a strange atmosphere in the encampment whenever I walked around. No one seemed to meet my gaze anymore, except for Avuli, Arlah, and my mitri. Even the bikku that delivered my meals didn’t speak with me anymore. She simply inclined her head, dropped off the tray of food, and departed as quickly as she’d come.

I hadn’t voiced my worries to Avuli, who usually helped me understand the perplexing intricacies of Dakkari culture. Instead, I simply minded myself whenever I walked through the camp, hoping that by publicly conveying my interest in Seerin at the frost feast, I hadn’t inadvertently made myself an outcast.

The only place I found the quiet peace I craved was out on the training grounds at night. Though the cold froze my hands and cheeks, I needed to be out there. A part of me knew it was also to look for Seerin.

I was just nocking my next arrow when my neck prickled and I realized that I was no longer alone. Footsteps approached the fence behind me and when I turned to look—hoping it was perhaps Odrii—I saw, to my surprise and hesitation, that it was Seerin’s second-in-command. His pujerak, I believed he was called.

I’d seen him enough times with Seerin around the encampment to know that the two males were close. Not only was this male his pujerak, but he was also Seerin’s friend.

The only time I’d ever spoken to the pujerak directly was back at my village, so I was surprised when he emerged from the shadows of the darkened, quiet camp to approach me on the training grounds.

I angled my bow down, but kept it gripped in my palm as the Dakkari male studied me, though he seemed in no rush to speak first.

Growing uncomfortable with his silence, I thumbed the bowstring back and forth as I waited.

“Did you know, vekkiri, that the way hordes are classified, how they are recognized, are by their Vorakkar’s family name?” he asked softly, forgoing any kind of greeting.

My brow furrowed, but I didn’t look away from him.

“This horde is Rath Tuviri,” the pujerak said.

Seerin of Rath Tuviri, I remembered him telling me.

“‘Rath’ in our language is directly translated to ‘the end’ in yours. ‘The end of Tuviri.’ I have always thought that strange. That family names mean ‘the end of,’ even when they are ancient lines.”

I didn’t know why he was telling me these things and my confusion must’ve shown on my face.

“What is your family name, vekkiri?” he asked, unmoving. “Do you know it?”

I shook my head, but I watched him closely. “No. I am only called Nelle.”

Or thissie, but only Seerin called me that and I wanted to keep it that way.

Something in his expression changed, just a slight down-turning of his lips. He didn’t look any older than Seerin, but the grave expression on his face reminded me of one of the elders I’d seen in the encampment.

“You will be his end, vekkiri,” the pujerak rasped, “in the literal sense of the word.”

My hand tightened on the bow and I realized now why he’d sought me out.

“I have known him longer than any Dakkari in this horde,” the pujerak said next, confirming my suspicions that the two males had a long history. “I know his strengths and his weaknesses. And I see clearly that you are a weakness. One that must be ended before it threatens everything we have built.”

He was warning me. That was his intention in coming here.

“You knew him in Dothik,” I guessed. “You were one of the ones he watched over.”

The pujerak didn’t seem surprised that I knew Seerin’s history.

“And I watched over him,” the male returned. “As I have always done. As I continue to do, even now.”

“You love him as a brother,” I guessed next. Why else would the pujerak threaten me like this, unless he thought he was protecting Seerin?

His eyes narrowed. A silent wind ruffled the furs draped over his shoulders as he said, “You understand nothing of what we have gone through, vekkiri. But our reward was this life, this horde. I will not watch it fall because of one female, who comes from nowhere, who comes from no family.”

Something occurred to me just then and I asked, “Rath Tuviri…it’s his mother’s line, is it not?”

Seerin had never known his father. He wouldn’t have taken his name.

The pujerak didn’t need to answer for me to know I was right.

“So, perhaps you are wrong,” I said, clutching my bow tighter, lifting my chin. I wouldn’t be cowed by his threats. “One female’s will helped create this horde. A female who was not of an ancient line, who may not have seemed important to anyone. But she only needed to be important to one.” The Dothikkar. “You believe that I will destroy this horde? I’m almost flattered you think I have so much power.”

His laugh was bitter. “Make no mistake, vekkiri, his mother is as calculating and as ruthless as they come. She knew exactly what she was doing.” His head tilted. “Perhaps you are more like her than I first realized.”

My lips pressed together at the barb. Calculating and ruthless?

“Even still, you are not strong enough to be what he needs,” the pujerak said next, twisting the knife deep.

Doubt crept into my mind even as I turned away from him, looking back to the target riddled with my arrows.

“If you care for him,” his voice came from behind me, “then you will end it.”

“I will do no such thing,” I said softly, nocking my arrow. But I was rattled, my hand shaking, and when I released, the arrow flew wide, nowhere near its intended mark. My first miss of the night.

“You will leave this horde if you want what is best for him.”

“Are you finished threatening me now?” I asked, whipping around to meet his gaze. A small ball of anger burned in my belly. I wasn’t used to anger. I steered clear from it, but it pinched hard right then.

He was obviously pleased to see he’d struck a nerve and I hated that I’d given him that satisfaction.

“You will see for yourself, vekkiri,” he said, turning, already walking away. “You are a mistake. He will realize that soon enough.”