Captive of the Horde King by Zoey Draven

Chapter Fourteen

“Are you well, Missiki?” Mirari asked as we walked together though the thick forest spread behind the Dakkari camp. Lavi flanked my other side and Arokan had given me a guard, who trailed behind all three of us. When I’d protested that I didn’t need to be watched like a child, he’d only looked at me, grunted, and then turned away to go about his duties for the day. And the guard still followed.

My wrists still throbbed from Hukan’s markings, the skin surrounding the gold slightly reddened. Mirari told me to keep the salve on it and to wrap it in cloth, which I did.

“Do your markings ache? We should return to camp. I can fetch you the healer,” she asked.

No, I didn’t want to go back. Not yet. Arokan had told me not to venture far when I told him that I needed fresh air, that I couldn’t stand another long afternoon trapped in the tent. Surprisingly, he’d relented with little argument. After what Hukan said, I needed to clear my mind.

With a look over my shoulder at the guard, I said softly to Mirari, “A female named Hukan did my markings.” I was unsure if I was supposed to say her name out loud, but I was beyond caring. “Who is she?”

Mirari blinked, looking down at the forest path. The forest was overgrown and thick in places, but the path that Mirari led us down seemed maintained, as if Dakkari trekked through it often.

“She did not take to you, I assume,” Mirari ventured, her voice hesitant and light.

I was slowly becoming to trust Mirari. She’d never given me a reason not to, despite telling Arokan that I refused to eat when I first arrived to the camp. Though she often told me her purpose was to obey me, she was always honest and didn’t shy away from the questions I asked.

I relied on her for information and I was thankful for the things she’d told me, especially since I understood the Dakkari very little.

“No,” I answered her. “She did not.”

“She would not,” Mirari admitted, with a certainty in her voice that surprised me.

“Why?”

“I do not…” she trailed off, casting a glance behind her shoulder at the guard, who stayed ten paces back. “I do not know if it is my place to say. I would not wish to anger the Vorakkar.”

“The Vorakkar is not here and I will not tell him,” I told her. “Please. I need to know what I’m getting myself into, how to handle her.”

Mirari relented, “She is a blood relation to the Vorakkar. She is very protective of him.”

My lips parted. “How is she related?” A thought occurred to me and I asked, “What does Kivale mean?”

Mirari’s shoulders sagged. “Hukan was the older sister of the Vorakkar’s mother. Kivale is a term of respect, honoring that blood line.”

Hukan was Arokan’s aunt.

Damn.

“Hukan is very protective of her line, Missiki,” Mirari explained. “Her aversion to you is expected. Pay her no mind. She is old. Her years in this life, the tragedies that she has faced within her line, have left her bitter and angry.”

What tragedies?I wondered. Did Arokan experience the same tragedies too?

That didn’t make me feel any better. She’d known Arokan’s given name, which meant that she was close to him. I’d known that. Still, she’d gotten under my skin, she’d managed to hurt me. I told her something that I’d never voiced out loud before.

She thought I was weak, that I wouldn’t be able to do my duty when it came to the horde. In a way, I suspected she was right. I was out of my element, thrown into a life I wasn’t prepared for. I’d never even wanted to be queen to Arokan’s horde and I sure as hell didn’t ask for it.

But now, it didn’t matter. I was queen. It was done. Arokan had chosen me for reasons I still didn’t understand and his aunt hated me for it.

“Is she the only relation the Vorakkar has within the horde?” I asked.

“Lysi,” Mirari said. “She is the last female of their line. He is the last male. Unless you bear the Vorakkar a daughter and a son.”

I went quiet, processing her words. I couldn’t force Hukan to accept me. She merely tolerated my presence because of Arokan.

Whatever needs to happen will happen, I decided. It was best not to dwell on it.

A cracking branch made me stiffen and our heads jerked towards the sound. But through the density of the forest, I could see nothing or no one.

Memories of my mother rose, though I tried to push them back. Suddenly, I was fifteen again, alone in the icy forest during the cold season, desperately looking for my mother, a tangy, metallic smell permeating the air. Something had been watching me, something had been following me.

“We should turn back now, Missiki,” Mirari said, breaking me out of that particular memory. “We have gone far enough.”

I nodded, my heart beat drumming in my chest, and we turned around, heading back towards the camp. I heard another branch snap behind us and we picked up the pace, none of us talking until we reached the edge of the camp again. Even the Dakkari feared the beasts in the wilds, it seemed.

A small burst of relief made me exhale a sharp breath when I saw the busy camp, much busier than it had been that morning. A short distance away, I saw my tent, but the thought of returning filled me with restlessness so I turned away.

“Missiki,” Mirari called, questioning.

“Let’s walk through camp and see if anything needs to be done,” I said in return.

She sputtered, protesting, and hurried her pace to keep up with me, as did Lavi. “Missiki, you are Morakkari now. You do not help with these things. The Vorakkar would be most displeased if—”

“What am I expected to do here?” I asked, stopping to turn towards her. “I need to do something.”

“I do not know what the Vorakkar’s plans are for you but I do not—”

I cut her off by saying, “Well, let me go ask him. Where is he?”

Mirari’s gold painted eyelids fluttered in shock.

“What do Morakkaris do exactly?” I asked instead when she didn’t reply.

“They—they keep the Vorakkar pleased, so he can lead effectively.”

My eyes bulged and I choked out a small laugh. Then I realized she wasn’t joking.

“You can’t be serious,” I said. “Any female could ‘please’ him, if that was the case.”

“Not any female could provide him heirs,” Mirari returned.

My lips pressed together. So was I nothing more than a breeding vessel, a whore with a queen’s title?

I thought of his treasure chests lined against the wall of the tent, remembered that they were filled with female adornments and pretty things, chests I assumed were for the females who ‘pleased’ him.

Something cut me at that thought. Something that confused me. Something that felt an awful lot like jealousy, like possession.

So this is how it is, Luna? You have sex with him once and now you think he’s yours?

But he was, wasn’t he? By all rights, he was my goddamn husband, whether I’d asked for it or not.

“That doesn’t work for me,” I said, my spine straightening. My eyes went to the guard, still hovering behind Lavi. “Take me to the Vorakkar.”

The guard’s eyes met mine. A scar slashed across his face, across his cheekbone, the bridge of his nose.

His gaze went to Mirari, though she stayed silent.

Finally, he said, in clumsy, unpracticed universal tongue, “He is training now, Morakkari.”

“Then take me to where he trains.”

The guard’s jaw clenched but then he inclined his head in a nod. I followed him when he cut a path through the camp, heading in the direction where the celebration had taken place last night.

As we drew nearer and nearer to what I assumed were the training grounds, I heard the ringing clash of blades, of metal on metal, of male grunts, of bodies being flung to the earth.

Nothing prepared me for the sight of those sounds, however.

Nor the sight of Arokan fighting with a sword, sweaty, his muscles shifting and flexing, an intense look of savage concentration on his face, as he took on three Dakkari opponents.

Last night, when he’d been driving into my body, he’d worn a similar expression.

I swallowed, feeling a flutter of arousal at the memory of it, which I definitely didn’t need to be feeling.

The guard halted far enough away from the clearing, giving the males ample space for their training session and I froze next to him, watching the scene in front of me with morbid fascination.

Arokan quickly side-stepped when an opponent came at him, moving so fast that he was like a blur. He blocked another opponent’s blade before it took him in the side and with a bellow, he pushed him back before landing a kick in the center of his chest, making the male fly across the clearing.

Throwing out his arm in a graceful arc, he slapped the flat edge of his sword against the third opponent’s thigh before ramming his thick fists straight across his nose, making the male’s head whip to the side before he landed hard.

I’d never seen anything like it. Never seen something so physically brutal or intense. People in my village weren’t warriors, weren’t fighters. The majority of them had probably never held a blade in their lives. To see such skill and savagery up close…it was shocking. It reminded me of all the tales we’d been told of the Dakkari since we were young.

Arokan braced, still, eyeing the three males on the ground, waiting. After a moment, when none of them rose, he straightened, some of the tension leaving him, as he barked out something in Dakkari and helped the male nearest him up to a stand, clapping him across the shoulders.

He turned his head to say something to the male and that was when he caught my eyes. I watched him hesitate, his gaze narrowing ever so slightly, before he called out an order to the two dozen or so males that had also been watching the training session from the sidelines. Four more entered the clearing and began to spar with one another, while Arokan made his way towards me, sheathing his sword at his hip.

Arokan nodded at the guard, who seemed to melt away with Mirari and Lavi. Until it was just the two of us.

“Is something wrong, kalles?” he asked, his eyes focused on me.

My heart was still drumming in my chest from that training session. What disturbed me the most was that my eyes tracked over his flesh, seeing the sweat and dirt, remembering how efficiently he’d dispatched his opponents. What disturbed me the most was that my nipples were pebbled underneath my tunic and despite the soreness of my sex, I was remembering the exquisite feel of his length inside me.

“How long have you been fighting like that?” I found myself asking, trying to distance myself from my body’s treacherous demands.

“Since I was strong enough to hold a blade,” he answered, cocking his head to the side. “I was trained from a young age.”

It showed. I wondered if his father had taught him. If his mother had been a Morakkari, it meant that his father had been a Vorakkar.

“What is it that you need, kalles?” he murmured. That scent of him, his sweat, his musk fogged my brain, made my mouth water.

Blinking, I managed to remember why I’d sought him out.

“Is there anything I can do around camp?” I asked.

He wiped his forearm across his forehead, his fresh gold markings from that morning flashing. Unlike mine, they didn’t look reddened or irritated.

“There is no need.”

“I want to do something,” I amended.

He turned the full-force of his gaze onto me. “Why?”

I inhaled a short breath and said, “Look, I know how it works. I know that my life, at least for the immediate future is with you, here.” He frowned at that. “Maybe that will change in time, but for now, it would benefit me to learn about this place, about your people. About you. And I can’t do any of that sitting on my ass in a tent all day.”

Something rose from him, wild and quick. He advanced on me, lowered his head ever so slightly, and growled, “Your future is always with me, kalles. Do not ever say otherwise.”

My lips parted, not expecting that reaction. “Arokan.”

A sharp exhale whistled through his nostrils and he bit out a curse in Dakkari, looking away, past me to his camp.

“That’s…” I swallowed, trailing off. “All I meant was that we don’t know what the future brings. All I meant was that I’m here now. I’m not going to fight you at every turn anymore. I’ve accepted that this is the path my life has taken and if that’s so, I want to build a life here. I need a purpose.”

“Your purpose is to stand beside me,” he growled, “as my queen.”

“As your ornament?” I rasped, frustrated. “As your trophy? I’m not going to spend my life like that, Arokan. I can’t. It would kill me.”

His gaze flashed, his yellow irises contracted.

“I just want a job,” I said softly, hesitantly reached out to touch his forearm. His skin was hot from the sun, from his exertion. “However small it might be. Anything.”

His gaze went down to my hand resting against him and when he didn’t reply, I bit my lip and pulled it away.

In a flash, he caught my hand, keeping that connection.

“Anything?” he repeated, running his calloused thumb across the back of my hand. I’d never known such a simple touch could feel so…arousing. So intimate.

“Y-yes,” I replied, my head going a little fuzzy again.

He leaned close, those rapt eyes freezing me into place. Softly, he said, “Then you will aid with the pyrokis’ care.”

My eyes widened and I snatched my hand back, taking a whole step away from him, as if to distance myself from his words. “Arokan, no. I can’t do that.”

“You said anything. You wanted a job, this is the one I task to you,” he replied simply.

My breath hitched, my mind flashing to those red-eyed beasts, the same kind of beast that had mauled my mother, that had forced me to end her suffering.

“Please, I’ll do anything else but—”

“Do you think I have not noticed your aversion to them?” Arokan asked softly.

“I…I…”

“Pyrokis are the foundation of all Dakkari hordes,” he said. “If you wish to learn more about us, you must first understand them. The horde will never truly accept you unless you master your fear and open yourself to these creatures.”

I bit my tongue, looking at the ground between us.

“Will you do this?” Arokan asked. “For me? For the horde? For yourself?”

“I don’t know if I can,” I said softly, but then I looked up at him. Swallowing, I nodded with dread pooling in my belly, and whispered, “But I will try.”

He made a sound in the back of his throat, reached out to thread his fingers through my hair. A gasp of surprise left me when he cupped the nape of my neck, tugging me forward, and kissed me right there, on the edge of the training grounds, with over two dozen Dakkari horde warriors watching.

Lips parting against him, I clutched his biceps as he took his kiss with a ferocity and thoroughness of a horde king.

“Brave kalles,” he rasped against me, pulling back. He released me, so quickly that I swayed. “You are—”

Suddenly, alarmed shouts echoed through camp and Arokan’s head snapped up, towards the direction of the forest.

He jerked his head towards the horde warriors, bellowing out an order in Dakkari and they all ran towards the back of the camp.

“What’s happening?” I cried, as shouts of alarm rang out.

Arokan pushed me into the arms of my assigned guard. “Stay with him, kalles. Do not leave his side.”

In Dakkari, he said something to the guard, who jerked his head in a nod.

“Wait!” I said, confused and concerned. “What is—”

“Do as I say!” Arokan growled. “I will find you later.”

Then he turned his back and sprinted toward the direction of the forest, unsheathing his sword as he went.