Captive of the Horde King by Zoey Draven
Epilogue
Two moon cycles later…
My hands fistedinto the furs, crying out when Arokan slammed deep into me, shaking my whole body, chattering my teeth together.
I moaned, “More!”
His fingers flexed at my hips, pleased.
I was on my hands and knees before my horde king. I’d woken him that morning by slipping between his thighs and gently sucking on the head of his cock. Not a moment later, he’d flipped me over, ready to give me what I’d so nicely asked for.
Beneath me, my growing breasts bobbed with every thrust and I felt one of Arokan’s hands cup them, felt him tweak my nipples in a way that made me groan.
So good.
My horde king knew every place to touch me, knew how much pressure to use, how to angle his hips just right to hit that perfect, sublime spot inside me. He knew when I was ready to cum, he knew when to hold me on the edge or just let me fall. He read me as easily as I read him. He knew when I needed soft and slow and he knew when I just needed to be fucked and he happily gave me whatever I wanted.
“I love you I love you I love you,” I breathed, gasping, beyond thoughts and almost beyond words. I was right on the edge. “Arokan!”
Arokan groaned behind me. He loved when I said that and I told him I loved him multiple times a day.
Then I was orgasming around him, my breath catching in my throat. I couldn’t even scream. My mouth was wide in a silent cry as pulses of intense pleasure shot through my body.
My arms shook and Arokan caught me before I fell facedown into the furs. He brought me up to my knees, my back pressed against his front, and he continued to piston his hips into my sex.
In my ear, he rasped, “Rinavi leika, rei Morakkari. Lo kassiri tei. Lo kassiri tei.”
You’re beautiful, my Queen. I love you. I love you.
One of his arms banded just beneath my breasts. One came to rest over my large belly, where our baby grew.
Then Arokan was bellowing out his release into me, as jets of his seed filled me, his hips rocking faster and harder.
He sucked on the sensitive spot just below my ear, nibbling it with his sharp teeth, as he rode out his own orgasm, and then we both collapsed into our furs.
Chest heaving, I cuddled into my husband’s arms, our naked bodies intertwined. After I caught my breath, I laughed, the sound husky and happy. I turned into him, peppering kisses over his jawline, his cheekbones, the bridge of his flat nose, running my hand over his hard, muscled, tattooed chest.
“Insatiable,” he rasped, his eyes closing. “You will drain me of life before the child comes.”
“You love it,” I whispered.
But he was right. Pregnancy made me insatiable. Almost as insatiable as Arokan and he was a hot-blooded Dakkari horde king in his prime.
The past couple days, however, I’d been particularly ravenous. Arokan had gone out on patrol for close to a week, tracking a pack of Ghertun—almost to the Dead Lands—that had proven themselves more cunning than the rest. He’d just returned and I was making up for lost time.
“I do,” he agreed, though he groaned as he said it.
“I’ll let you sleep tonight,” I promised.
He opened one eye to peer at me, as if to say, ‘oh really?’
I grinned. The worst of my need had passed and I was content to lie in my husband’s arms. I’d missed him terribly while he was gone. I’d worried about him every moment, lying awake at night praying to all the deities in the universe, to Kakkari and Drukkar, to keep him safe, to bring him back to me. Every patrol he went out on was like that. It never got any easier.
But he was the Vorakkar. He had a duty to his horde to keep them safe, to keep me safe. So he went. He went out on long patrols and didn’t return until whatever threat they’d happened upon was eliminated.
Arokan looked at me, his eyes warming as they drifted over my features. I felt his love for me in that gaze. It was like sinking into a hot bath after a long day, warm, relaxing, satisfying.
His hands reached down to cup the baby. We were lucky enough not to experience any complications, considering that he was Dakkari and I was human. But already I could tell that the child would be big. Rightly so, considering the size of the father.
“Still two months to go,” I commented. The healer believed that I would carry for the full five months. Already, my back, my ankles were killing me. I was ready for the baby to come now. Soon, I wouldn’t be able to continue working with the pyroki. I would have to sit outside the enclosure with the mrikro and shout orders to Jriva.
I smiled. That wouldn’t be so terrible. I could munch on hji fruit, just like the mrikro, as I did it.
“They will pass slowly,” Arokan murmured, “because we anticipate her arrival every moment.”
Her.
Arokan believed it was a girl. A horde princess. I didn’t know why. He just told me Kakkari had showed him in a dream. He told me I would bear him a girl first, then three boys, before another girl.
Five children. I’d told him that we should get through the first pregnancy before we thought about more, but somehow I knew that Arokan was telling the truth. We would have many, many more children together and the line of Rath Kitala would be strong again.
Considering that Arokan had lost Hukan to the wild lands—no one had seen or heard reports of her—I was glad to give him many children.
Outside, we heard a warrior call out to Arokan and my husband’s arms tensed. Immediately, we shared a look and then slid from our furs, our time together cut short. There was always something, some matter to deal with in the horde. It came with the territory. More often than not, our mornings were interrupted.
I dressed with my husband, wanting to check on the pyrokis. We were on the cusp of the cold season and we’d begun to build nesting enclosures for the pregnant females, so they could give birth. I wanted to make sure the construction was continuing at a swift pace, since we were running out of time.
We exited the tent together and I blinked, my breath hitching in surprise. From our tent, we could see the vast wild lands of Dakkar, though were situated at the back of the camp.
And right then, I saw over fifty pyrokis with their warriors riders, idling just outside the camp border. Before us, flanked by two warriors, was a tall, broad, bare-chested Dakkari male, with shoulder-length dark blonde hair—a color variation I’d never seen on a Dakkari. His eyes were light too, the circle of his irises gray.
He was handsome, I couldn’t help but notice, with strong, proud features, though his mouth was pressed in a serious, almost grim line.
Another Vorakkar, I realized, my lips parting.
I’d never seen another horde king, but there was no doubt in my mind, judging by the way this male carried himself, from his commanding presence to the scars that I saw drifting over his shoulder, that he too was a leader, just like my husband.
My suspicions were confirmed when Arokan stepped forward, a small grin playing on his lips. The two males clasped arms and greeted one another in Dakkari. When the blonde’s eyes came to me, Arokan stepped back and draped his hand over my hip and said, “Rei Morakkari.”
The blonde Vorakkar inclined his head to me, his eyes dropping to my growing belly, before going to the Ghertun burn at my shoulder. He looked at me, something going through his gaze, but said, in the universal tongue, though it was more accented than my husband’s, “It is an honor, Morakkari. I have heard tales of you throughout the hordes.”
His eyes returned to my husband.
“We were passing by on patrol. I wanted to pay my respects and offer my congratulations on your tassimara, though it was long ago.”
“Thank you,” Arokan said. “Stay for a meal. Your warriors and pyrokis can rest. There are matters we should discuss.”
About the Ghertun, I knew.
The blonde shook his head. “There will be time for that, but not now. I have also come to inform you that the Dothikkar requests his Vorakkars in Dothik.”
Arokan absorbed the news. “About the Ghertun?”
“Lysi,” the blonde said. “We do not come together often, but this is a matter of importance.”
Arokan inclined his head in confirmation. He looked at me and then asked, “When?”
“When the moon is full,” the Vorakkar replied.
In three weeks, I knew. I sighed silently. Arokan would be gone again, but I knew that it was inevitable. If the Dakkari king wished to gather his Vorakkars to discuss the Ghertun threat, then Arokan had to go. It was important.
I nodded at Arokan when he looked at me and he squeezed my hip. “I will be there,” my husband replied. His eyes tracked over the fifty pyrokis, just outside the camp and he asked, “Where are you heading?”
“A human settlement to the east,” the blonde replied and my head jerked to him. His gaze flashed to me. Carefully, he said, “The numbers of a kinnu herd grow dangerously low. We suspect hunting.”
Dread pooled in my stomach and I couldn’t help but say, “They only try to feed themselves. Before the cold season comes.”
“Even still, Morakkari,” the blonde Vorakkar said, “these are the laws of the Dothikkar. We must investigate.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw my brother appear, Mirari next to him. Lately, they had been inseparable, despite the rocky beginning of their friendship. And I was glad for them.
My brother held out his hands at his sides, as if to ask what was going on. I nodded at him, reassuring him, and the Vorakkar turned and saw him.
When the blonde turned back to regard me, I told him, “My brother and I came from a village, probably much like the one you will find on your journey. We only tried to survive and it was a hard life. We were desperate and hungry and foolish.” I felt Arokan’s gaze and it gave me strength to say, “Now, we live. We live a free life, a happy life, because of my husband’s mercy.”
The blonde Vorakkar absorbed my words. I didn’t know if they would have any effect, but I would try. I would always try.
“We only ever needed mercy,” I finished, hoping he understood what I was trying to tell him.
The blonde Vorakkar regarded me closely. His gaze was intense, as if he could see to my very bones. Arokan was the same way, quietly intelligent and observant. In the back of my mind, I wondered if all Vorakkars were like this.
Yes, I decided. They had to be.
The Vorakkar said, “I will think on your words, Morakkari. But I make no promises.”
“That’s all I ask.”
The Vorakkar inclined his head again, his gaze returning to Arokan, “We will take our leave.”
“Lik Kakkari srimea tei kirtja,” Arokan said.
I’d never heard the combination of those words before, but I thought they meant something like: may Kakkari watch over you.
“You as well, brother,” the blonde Vorakkar replied. His eyes met mine. “May Kakkari protect you all.”
Then he left, his two warriors flanking him. My breath hitched when I saw his back. Just like my husband’s, it had been stripped by the whip. I would never get used to the sight.
Then, we watched from outside our tent as the Vorakkar led his warriors on their pyrokis away, kicking up dust as they went.
Heading east.
“He is merciful, Luna,” Arokan murmured in my ear. “He is a good male. But just like all Vorakkars, he must be strong too.”
“You can be all three,” I told him, turning in his arms, looking into my husband’s eyes. “You are.”
Then he said something I didn’t expect. “Only because you have made me so. Only because you have made me a better male, a better Vorakkar.”
I smiled. “Then I have hope. Maybe he will go to that village and find his kassikari. Maybe he will have no choice but to be merciful and she will make him better for it.”
Arokan grinned, leaning his forehead down to touch mine.
“There is always hope, rei Morakkari. You have taught me that too.”
The End
