Captive of the Horde King by Zoey Draven

Chapter Eighteen

Arokan didn’t return to the tent until the crescent moon was already high in the sky.

I was sitting, in my pants and tunic, on a floor cushion with my knees pulled up to my chest, listening to the quiet, to the gentle flicker of the candle flames, when he ducked inside.

My gaze darted to him and I inhaled a slow breath. All day I’d prepared for this, but it still didn’t prepare me for the shame I felt when I saw his expression.

The afternoon and evening had not calmed his ire towards me. It showed, plain as day. I thought of his strength, how easily he’d killed the Ghertun, and for the first time since he’d taken me from my village…I wondered if he would hurt me too.

Whatever he would do to me…I could take, I thought, steeling my spine though I didn’t quite meet his gaze fully.

“How is the warrior?” I asked softly. It was a question I’d thought constantly since I left the clearing. He’d been hurt because of me, because I’d distracted Arokan by questioning his decision, because I’d prolonged an execution that had always been inevitable.

“He will heal,” Arokan said, his voice terse.

Relief went through me, though it was slight. “Can I…can I see him?”

“Nik,” Arokan growled immediately. “You cannot.”

My heart raced and I swallowed the thick lump in my throat.

Long moments passed. I waited. And waited.

Finally, I couldn’t take the silence anymore. With all the courage I could muster, I looked up at Arokan, who was standing before me.

“I’m sorry,” I said, my tone clear, though my voice shook slightly. “I—I never could have imagined that…that…”

“Division breeds uncertainty and fear,” Arokan said. “Do not ever question me in front of the horde again, Morakkari. Do not ever question me in front of my warriors or our enemies, Morakkari.”

I flinched. His soft words somehow seemed worse than if he were yelling at me at the top of his lungs. I almost wished he would. But I realized he probably didn’t want the horde to hear.

This was a private matter. And I had made it public, by challenging him in front of his people.

Division breeds uncertainty and fear.

He meant division between us. This was between us.

“I’m sorry,” I said again. “But I wasn’t prepared for an execution. You said it was a trial. I thought I could save his—”

“It is not about what you want, Luna,” Arokan growled. “It is about what keeps the horde safe. My decision ensured that.”

“Then we were already divided before we ever stepped foot onto that dais,” I said quietly. “Why didn’t you tell me? You didn’t think I could handle it? You kept me in the dark when you knew what would happen, when you and only you had already decided his fate.”

“Do not turn this around on me, kalles,” he said softly.

That reminded me of something. “You called me nekkar earlier,” I said. “Why?”

“To remind you,” he growled.

“Of what? My lowly place in this universe?”

“That until recently, you said you did not know of the Ghertuns’ existence,” Arokan said and I froze. “To remind you that while you were behind the walls of your village, safe, the Dakkari were losing many to their savagery and carnage. You do not know what they are capable of.”

Safe.

Maybe we had been safe, but we’d also been starving and filled with fear that at any moment, the Dakkari would come for us all.

“Is that what happened?” I whispered, looking up at him. “Today, you said your father made a mistake by showing mercy to a Ghertun.”

It was wrong thing to say, at perhaps the worst possible time. I should have bit my tongue.

Arokan’s shoulders bunched. I watched, in horrified fascination, as his temper rose, as anguish and regret and anger, all flashed over his features, before he managed to rein them back in. It made me realize how much he kept on a tight leash inside. It made me realize how much control he possessed.

“Lysi,” he rasped, his eyes staring daggers into my own. “A much similar situation. My father found the scout. At his trial, my father granted him mercy and let him go. Three days later, in the dead of night, that scout led his pack to my father’s horde.”

My breathing went tight, fearing that I already knew what happened.

“Half of the warriors were out patrolling, which they knew because they had been watching us. They caught us unaware. We were outnumbered.”

“Arokan,” I whispered.

“Three of them slaughtered my father in his bed before anyone knew they had infiltrated the camp. Afterwards, they raped my mother and then killed her too. It was her screams that alerted the guards, that began the full-fledged attack on the horde.”

Horror made me clasp my hand over my mouth as nausea rolled in my belly.

“I was young at the time. I was sleeping in Hukan’s tent that night, near the front of the camp, the furthest away. My mother’s screams woke me. They still haunt me. Even though I fought against her, Hukan got me out, got a group of females and children out, and we rode until we happened upon another horde, whose Vorakkar tracked down the pack and killed them all in retribution. A Vorakkar who killed that scout, which is what my father should have done from the beginning, without hesitation, without pity or sympathy.”

Stunned silence filled the tent. I couldn’t begin to imagine what he’d witnessed, the brutality and horror of such an attack. His mother, his father…

Tears pooled in my eyes, but I didn’t look away from him.

“I…” I croaked. “Arokan, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“I have been Vorakkar long enough to know not to take chances with the safety of the horde,” he said next. “Which is something that you need to realize, Luna. I do not have to ask you to approve my decisions when it comes to them. I will do whatever it takes to keep my people safe. Even if it means killing a being who could be innocent, whose pack might be innocent. By leaving the Dead Lands, those Ghertun have already signed their fate, that spy signed his fate. Would you truly risk the lives of the horde to save one Ghertun? Knowing what you do now, would you ask me to be merciful again?”

The answer rang clear in my mind.

“No,” I whispered.

“Would you kill him yourself if you had to?” Arokan asked next, that cold voice unyielding.

The question caught me off guard. “I—I wouldn’t know how.”

Arokan looked away, his jaw ticking, his hands on his hips.

“Tomorrow,” he said, “you will start your day tending to the pyroki. You will walk among the horde, you will keep your head high. You will wear what your piki dress you in without complaint. You will show the horde that you remain strong, regardless of what happened today.”

I swallowed, looking down at my lap.

“You are Morakkari now, Luna. Despite what I called you today, you are Dakkari now,” Arokan rasped. I looked up at him as he said, “Act like it.”

I nodded.

Arokan went to his drawers before undressing. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, seeing the scars lining his back. Not for the first time, I wondered how he’d received them.

“Arokan,” I whispered.

The horde king paused, turning his head to look at me.

“I really am sorry,” I said. “I know I made a mess things today but…I’m trying.”

“I know, kalles,” he replied a moment later before pulling on pants made from hide, concealing his nudity. My eyebrows furrowed when I saw him sheath his dagger into the belt.

“Where are you going?”

“To hunt the Ghertun pack,” he replied. “I sent scouts ahead. We might have caught their trail.”

My lips parted. “You’ll kill them all?”

He turned to look at me again, studying me. “I will not return until we do. They are too close to us, too close to Dothik.”

I blew out a sharp exhale. After a moment, I nodded, rising from the cushion, my legs numb from sitting for so long.

“Be careful,” I told him. And I meant it. A week ago, I would’ve been praying that he never came back, so that I could return to my village, our bargain forfeit. “Please.”

Now…it made me worried that he was leaving again.

I was too emotionally exhausted to figure out why. I didn’t care why. I knew what I felt and I wanted him to be safe.

He was still disappointed in me. I could see it in his gaze, but he reached out his hand, cupped my cheek, before he murmured, “Stay close to your guards while I am gone, kalles.”

With that, he turned his back and ducked through the entrance of the tent without so much as a goodbye.

And I stood, in that empty tent, feeling like I failed as I watched him go.