Captive of the Horde King by Zoey Draven

Chapter Thirty-Six

Two days later, when the sun sank just below the horizon, Hukan was standing before the raised dais, before Arokan and I.

Night was falling. Her judgment was coming. The horde was assembled, the mood somber, the air so thick with tension, with anger, with disbelief, that I felt it as tangible as a touch against my skin. It weighed heavy in my lungs as I sat beside Arokan.

I was dressed in gold, my shoulders and thighs bare. On my skin, for all the hordes’ eyes to see, was the Ghertun marking that had been burned into me. The healer had offered to cut it from my skin, so as not to be reminded.

However, I wore my burn like a badge now. I didn’t want to erase what had happened simply because it hurt me to think of it. It had happened. I accepted it. I moved on.

Just like Arokan’s scars, it had become a part of me the moment they’d burned it into my skin. I wore the marking of an enemy and it would forever be a reminder. I accepted that too.

But it also reminded me that I survived. I came out the other side, not the five Ghertun who had taken me.

And now, Hukan would answer for her betrayal. She was standing there, unchained, dressed in nothing but a white shift dress, her feet bare, her hair undone.

Arokan had just finished recounting her crimes for all the horde to hear. He had finished revealing her conspiracy with the Ghertun to take me to their king when he said to her, “You have betrayed us all, Hukan of Rath Kitala.”

I couldn’t help but flinch when he used her given name, a public disgrace. It pained Arokan, I knew it did. I wanted nothing more than to reach over and take his hand, but I was his queen and I had to be strong. I would sit beside him as he did his duties as Vorakkar.

“She is not Dakkari,” Hukan hissed. “I did this for you. It was always for you.”

Arokan’s hands clenched into his throne, but otherwise, he held his emotions in check.

“She is Dakkari,” he argued, his voice deep and hard. “As is the child she carries in her womb at this very moment.”

A murmuring went through the horde and Hukan’s face paled. I jerked my head over at Arokan before I looked at my brother from across the way. I hadn’t told him just yet, but he inclined his head when he saw me watching, as if to say it was alright. He was watching Hukan’s trial with Mirari standing right next to him.

“A child,” Hukan said softly. Her eyes flashed to me. To Arokan. “I—I did not know there was a child.”

“My child,” Arokan growled. “A child of Rath Kitala, your own line. You betrayed my queen and you betrayed your own blood.”

Hukan was shaken by the news. For all her hatred of me, it seemed she held no hatred for my child. Because my child would share her blood, the blood of my husband, of his mother.

Before Arokan delivered his judgment, I knew what it would be. He’d told me before the trial had begun. Dakkari were never executed for their crimes. Instead, they were to face the judgment of Kakkari. They were exiled into the wild lands, never again to have the comforts and security of a horde. They were given a single dagger with which to live or to die. If Hukan somehow reached an outpost, it was up to their leader to allow her admittance or not.

A lonely, uncertain, and harsh existence awaited her.

Tears pricked my eyes thinking about it. Not for Hukan’s sake, but for Arokan’s. This was a female he’d grown up loving and respecting. A female that had looked after him after his own parents had been murdered by the Ghertun. Yet, she’d conspired with them to betray me, to betray him.

I didn’t feel sorry for her. She’d made her choice. She hadn’t denied it when she’d been confronted and two Dakkari had been murdered because of her.

My heart ached only for Arokan, for the difficult decision that he’d had to make and the grief that would always haunt him because of it. He would always live with this decision.

Arokan jerked his head at two Dakkari warrior escorts that would lead Hukan out into the wild lands, far away from the horde. Arokan stood from his throne. He descended the steps of the dais and stopped in front of his aunt. From his belt, he drew a dagger, which he gave to one of the escorts.

“This was my mother’s dagger,” he said. “May it serve you well.”

And then he bent his head low and spoke in Hukan’s ear. A goodbye, I knew. Perhaps even a thank you, for all that she had done for him up until that point. Because for all of her faults, she had protected Arokan when he’d been a child. She had given him council whenever he sought it. She had been his only remaining family.

I didn’t know what was said. It was a moment only for them and my heart twisted in my chest when Hukan reached up to touch Arokan’s cheek.

Then she looked at me. Our eyes held for a brief moment. I saw hers flicker over my healing split lip, the bruises on the side of my face from the Ghertun leader, the burn that took up half my shoulder.

Her eyes dropped to my belly, where my child grew.

“You are at the mercy of Kakkari now,” Arokan said, breaking her gaze. “Pray that she is merciful. Pray that she is more merciful than I.”

Hukan’s head dipped.

Then she turned away slowly, towards the warrior escorts.

Wanting to give Arokan comfort, I descended the dais to stand beside him. Discreetly, I slipped my hand into his as we watched the two escorts, on their pyroki, lead Hukan away. I squeezed his hand as we watched them grow smaller and smaller in the distance. The entire horde remained silent, watching until darkness fell over Dakkar. Watching until Hukan could be seen no more.

She was lost in the wild lands now, never to return.

Arokan kept a tight grip on my hand and I stood there with him, long after the horde members left, until it was just the two of us, staring into the dark night.

Arokan’s eyeswere closed as I smoothed the washing cloth over his shoulders, over his chest. The day had been hard on him, the grief still raw.

The water was warm around us, in our bathing tub, our skin pressed together. I spread my fingers wide over his chest, felt his strong heartbeat underneath my palm. Steady and slow.

I didn’t ask him if he was alright. Of course he wasn’t. I couldn’t make the pain go away. Time would help heal it, but it would always be there, like a scar. A reminder.

And I was doing my best to comfort him, but I worried that it wasn’t enough.

His eyes opened and he looked at me. He caught my hands and brought them up to his lips, before he slid his own hands down my body, to rest against my belly.

“I don’t even know what to say this night,” I confessed, licking my bottom lip, the cut stinging.

His eyes met mine. “Tell me that you love me,” he said, his voice guttural, deep.

“I love you, Arokan,” I whispered into his ear. Words just for him. Though my shoulder was still healing, I brought my arms up to rest on his shoulders, wrapping my hands around the nape of his neck, holding him close.

“Tell me that you will be with me always,” he murmured.

“I will be with you always,” I said softly, “until my last breath.”

“Tell me that…” he trailed off, meeting my gaze. “Tell me that you forgive me, for taking you from your village the way I did.”

My brow furrowed. I’d never known that he’d had doubts about that, about how we’d been brought together.

“There’s nothing to forgive,” I told him truthfully, the water trickling as I shifted over his lap. “I didn’t understand it at the time, Arokan, but I realize now that it was blessing. You were a blessing. You gave me a more complete life. You help me enrich it every single day.”

His shoulders loosened. His gaze softened. It was a look just for me.

My heart fluttered in my chest. Leaning forward, I kissed him, slow and soft, memorizing him though I knew I had no need.

And I knew, right then, that our future would be bright. That day, the past couple days, had been bittersweet. They had been difficult, emotionally, physically, for both of us, for all of us. I knew that there would be more difficult days ahead. With the uncertainty of the Ghertun threat, with the challenges of horde life, with the cold season approaching, the days ahead would be unpredictable.

But I knew, without a doubt, that as long as Arokan was at my side, as long as I was at his, we could face anything. Together.

When the baby came, when I brought our son or daughter into this world, we would be even stronger.

“Although,” I said, pulling back slightly from his lips to tease him, wanting to made him smile, “I’m not sure I forgive you for that time you tried to force feed me bveri meat.”

He made a surprised sound in the back of his throat and I was satisfied when I got a hint of a grin from him. “Stubborn kalles,” he murmured. “You fought me at every turn.”

“You liked it,” I whispered.

He gazed at me, brushing his fingers over my lips. His expression was serious when he said, “I would not have had you any other way, rei Morakkari.”