Claimed By the Horde King by Zoey Draven

Chapter Thirty-Nine

“Where is she?” I rasped to the vekkiri male I recognized as the village’s leader, who’d approached the moment I swung off Lokkas’ back. Ice clung to the black pelt around my shoulders and my face felt chaffed and raw from the wind.

The journey had been short, yet impossibly long, stretching from one moment to the next as I raced to reach Nelle. I had only stopped once to allow Lokkas rest, and to hunt a couple rikcrun for us to eat, which was the easiest meat to catch during the cold season in that part of Dakkar. Beyond that, we had ridden through the night, through the morning, and the afternoon. Now, darkness had long settled over the land. It was the early hours of morning.

The leader looked shocked and wary that I was there, holding up a flickering lantern between us. His eyes squinted behind me, no doubt looking for my warriors in the dark.

“Where is she?” I repeated in the universal tongue. I had not spoken the language in over two weeks and it felt both achingly familiar and strange on my tongue.

The prospect that my horde could be waiting out in the dark, beyond his line of sight, was leaving him shaken. His hand trembled as he pointed towards the back of the small village, towards a row of wooden, short homes. “I’ll show you.”

The village was quiet and sparse. Their homes were made of wood, some with small, smudged windows and chipped doors. The stench of waste permeated the village, as if they hadn’t properly disposed of it. Faces appeared in the dirtied windows we passed—males, females, even children peering out. Gaunt, mistrustful, wary faces.

This was where my thissie had grown up, where she had lived, where she had willingly returned to.

My fists clenched at my sides. I was not indifferent to their suffering. It was similar suffering to what I’d seen in Dothik as a child.

The leader pointed to the end of a row of four houses. “That is hers,” he said in a hushed voice.

Faint yellow light spilled from several cracks I saw in the walls, in the doors. I didn’t wait another moment and stalked to it, needing to ensure she was safe. I’d thought of nothing else as I’d ridden to her village.

When I pushed open her door, something within crashed. I heard a sharp intake of breath and the unmistakable sound of Dakkari steel whistling from a sheath. I stepped inside, carefully not to let the cold in, and closed the brittle door behind me.

Nelle was within, kneeling on the floor among furs. It was her bed, I realized with another sharp ache in my chest. She slept on the floor with only a single fur for warmth. She’d been asleep, a small lantern burning next to her…in addition to a Dakkari dagger. It wasn’t the one I’d given her, but I recognized the weapons master’s work.

The sight of her released something in me, something tight and painful.

“Nelle,” I said softly, drinking her in. My palm trembled as I ran it down my face, wiping away some of the ice melting from my hair.

Her eyes were on me. However, her expression was unreadable for possibly the first time since I’d encountered her. She didn’t even look shocked to see me barge into her village home.

“What are you doing here?” she asked quietly, lowering the dagger. Had she needed to use it already? The thought made me want to bellow in frustration, especially when I realized the object that had crashed when I pushed inside was a broken chair. She’d wedged it up against the door as she slept. For added security and protection? I should be protecting her.

“You should not be here, thissie,” I said, my words stilted. I’d been on Lokkas for over a full day and a full night. I’d had time to think what to say to her once I found her, so why were the words sticking in my throat? “You belong with the horde.”

“I left,” she said, as if it weren’t obvious. Still, I could not read my normally expressive kalles. Her eyes were dark in the low light and they gave away nothing. Not even the normal glimmer of curiosity that almost constantly shone there. It worried me.

“Without telling me,” I rasped, raking a hand through my tangled hair. “Without…”

“I did not realize I needed your permission to leave,” she said, pushing up from the floor, standing. She was dressed in her pelt and the clothes that the seamstress had made for her. “I was not a prisoner there.”

“Nik, I meant—”

“You should not be here,” she said, levelling her gaze at me. I was so used to seeing her eyes filled with warmth and amusement and life that seeing them so empty brought me physical pain. Because I’d done that to her. “You should be with your horde.”

“The moment I found out you were gone, I came straight here,” I said, approaching her, bridging the short distance between us. “I did not even realize you were gone until last night. And when I found out…”

I didn’t want to relive that freezing fear, though I would remember it always. It would forever mark me, like the scars on my back.

Even then, that fear had only begun to thaw now that she was within my line of sight.

“It was a mistake, Nelle,” I murmured, reaching out to cup her face. Her skin felt cold for the brief moment I touched her, before she stepped away. “It was a mistake choosing the horde over you.”

Her expression didn’t change. “No, you knew what you were doing. I think you always knew.”

My fists clenched and I barely suppressed a wince before I pleaded, “Come back with me. We will work on this, thissie. I promise.”

“I left for a reason, Seerin,” she said. “Knowing what I know now, going back with you will not change anything.”

“And what is it that you know?” I rasped.

There was a crack in her expression. Just a small one, but it showed me the pain I’d caused her, the pain I wished I could take from her a thousand times over. I would rather go through the Dothikkar’s Trials again, if only to take a sliver of it away.

“That is was just a fantasy,” she whispered. I flinched when my words were flung back into my face. “A dream. It wasn’t real.”

“Nelle,” I said, my brows furrowing. “It was real. It is. I need you to believe that.”

How could she when I’d given her no reason to?

Determination coursed through me. I needed to give her a reason. I needed to give her thousands of reasons.

“I love you,” I rasped, threading my hands in her hair, forcing her to meet my eyes so she would see the truth in them. “Lo kassiri tei. I love you, rei thissie. You know this, Nelle.”

She’d asked me that morning if I’d ever loved her. And it gutted me to know that I hadn’t said a single word in reply. I let her believe I didn’t. I thought it would be kinder if she hated me. It would make it easier…

Vok.

“I don’t,” she whispered, looking deep into my eyes, though she still kept herself locked away. “I don’t believe you, Seerin. Not anymore.”

Stunned, I released her. Had I damaged us beyond saving?

“Please, just go,” she said, wrapping her arms around her waist, turning slightly away from me.

Nik, I thought.

I swallowed, though determination coursed through me. She might hate me for it later, but I knew that I would not allow her to stay there.

“I am not returning without you, Nelle,” I said. Her eyes flickered to me, a slight frown on her lips. “If I have to drag you back, I will.”

Disbelief shone in her eyes, but at least it was better than indifference, than emptiness.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked, her brow furrowing. “You ended this, remember? You did. And I don’t have the mental energy or the will to be your plaything anymore, Seerin. I don’t trust your words and I certainly don’t trust why you’re here.”

Her words gutted me even as I growled, “Then at the very least, believe that I do not want you here. In this place. There are those in the horde that care for you deeply. You think they want you to suffer? To be hungry, cold, unprotected? Nik.”

“This was my decision to make, not yours, not anyone’s,” she replied. “Being in the horde with you…”

“Neffar?” I asked when she trailed off.

“It would destroy me,” she whispered after a lengthy pause. “This is the only way, Seerin.”

My chest ached—my whole body ached at her words.

And it will destroy me if you are not there, rei thissie, I thought to myself.

“I want you as my Morakkari, Nelle,” I told her softly. “You were always meant to be my Morakkari.”

She stilled.

“You told me once that all you wanted was to not be alone,” I said, my voice coming out roughened and dark from the cutting emotions swirling within me. Her eyes flickered with recognition as mine flickered to her dark hair. “You told me you didn’t want your hair to turn grey and find that you were alone.”

That crack in her expression showed again.

“The horde is your true home, thissie. You will never be alone there. You were happy there,” I rasped. “Then I hurt you. I knowingly hurt the one person in my life who I only ever wanted to protect and cherish. And I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I will spend the rest of my life showing that I love you. Until you never have to question it. Until you would never think of questioning it.”

She shook her head. She was wary, I could see that, but I didn’t care how long it would take to erase the doubt in her mind.

“I will not give you up,” I told her. “I will not fail you or disappoint you again. I promise you that.”

“I’m tired, Seerin,” she whispered.

I was getting nowhere with her that night.

Blowing out a long breath, I switched tactics. I asked softly, “Have you been eating, thissie?”

There were dark circles under her eyes and the hollow of her cheeks seemed more pronounced. Her eyes flickered to a travel sack of hide wedged into the corner of her small home. I went to it, peeled back the flap, and saw there were dried meats and kuveri loaves inside. It was a small relief to know she’d had something to sustain herself. But by the looks of it, it was already half gone and would barely get her through the cold season.

It wasn’t enough. Not nearly. Knowing her, she’d been eating as little as possible to stretch out the rations.

When I straightened, I simply looked at her. After two and half weeks of not seeing her, of not speaking with her, all I wanted to do was go to her and wrap her in my arms. But even I knew she would not welcome my touch. Not anymore.

She was so beautiful to me that it made my chest physically ache.

“Nothing I say,” I said quietly, “will change what I did. But it doesn’t change how I feel about you either. I saw Kakkari’s guiding light in your eyes the last time we were in this village together.” Her brow furrowed slightly. “I saw strength and hope and connection in you. I knew that you were going to change my life from that very moment…and you have. You will continue to change it. You were always meant to be mine, Nelle. I was always meant to be yours. Kakkari knew that. I know that. I’m just sorry—so terribly sorry—that it took me this long to realize that.”

Hesitation flickered in her eyes. Only for a brief moment…but it told me that she heard me. At the very least, she heard me.

“I will hunt and bring you rikcrun in the morning so you can have fresh meat,” I murmured, deciding it was best to give her time to her thoughts. My eyes went to the dagger in her hand and the broken chair on the floor. “And do not fear, rei thissie, no one will dare to come near you. I will make sure of that.”

She looked down to the floor of her home, her fingers beginning to tap on her thigh. A familiar habit of hers. One that told me she hadn’t completely locked herself away.

“Veekor, kalles,” I murmured.

Sleep, female.

They were words I’d often whispered in her ear after we had exhausted ourselves with mating, with my seed leaking down her inner thighs. Words I’d said to her when I curled her in my arms and she pressed her cheek against my chest. She’d told me she liked to listen to my heart, that counting the beats brought comfort to her as she dozed off into sleep.

In those moments, I’d known true peace. As if my singular purpose in the universe was simply to hold her, protect her, love her. As if I’d finally found my calling in life.

She remembered those words well and the memories that surrounded them. Her expression changed, her brows lifting ever so slightly, her nostrils flaring.

Longing. Finally, there was something recognizable in her features. It gave me hope that the love she had for me wasn’t completely lost after all, that some part of her still wanted me.

I promised, “I will return in the morning.”