Captive of the Horde King by Zoey Draven

Chapter Six

“You refuse to eat, kalles?”

His voice was measured and controlled, but quiet in a way that sent alarm bells through my head.

I didn’t answer him.

And he didn’t like that.

The horde king stalked towards me in three angry strides. Though I was still kneeling on the cushion, I tipped my head back to look at him. I was still frightened of him, unsure what to make of him, whether he truly was the primitive brute I’d heard stories of or not, but I would never let that fear show.

Unlike yesterday, he was wearing nothing more than a draped cloth that attached to a wide, gold belt. His thick boots creaked when he crouched in front of me and I caught a glimpse of his cock, swaying underneath the loose cloth. He was still bare-chested, his wide cuffs flashing on his wrists.

“You,” he said quietly, “will eat now.”

“Why?” I hissed, just as quietly, back.

“You are malnourished,” he snarled. “I will not have you wasting away.”

“I will eat what my village eats, what my brother eats. Uranian Federation rations and nothing more.”

The horde king burst out with a Dakkari curse and his large hand flashed out, wrapping around the side of my neck, just over my collar. His strength was undeniable and I let out a small, surprised breath when he tilted my head back to look at him.

“You are a part of the horde now. You will eat what the horde eats!” he growled, those yellow eyes flashing. My temper was rising. Whenever I felt backed into a corner, I came out fighting.

“I will never be part of the horde.”

“You are!” he roared. “You will be my kassikari, I will fill your belly with my heirs, you will be my queen, and you will eat when I tell you to!”

Sucking in a breath, anger pulsing through me, I hissed out, “Or else what?”

Something dark came into his narrowed eyes. His hand flexed on my throat and he rasped, “If you refuse to eat, I will consider it a slight. I will return to your little village and do what I should have done last night. I will let Kakkari feast on your brother’s spilled blood as retribution.”

I froze. He was threatening me, using my brother’s life as leverage.

However, he would lose me if he took that course and for some reason…he wanted me. A horde king of the Dakkari wanted me and I could use that to my advantage.

Narrowing my eyes, I called his bluff.

“Do it then,” I said softly, pressing my neck into his hand further, rising to my knees so that we were eye-level, ignoring the pain from riding the pyroki. The beads on my top swayed as I moved. The horde king stilled, his eyes flashing to my lips as I spoke, “But if you do, I swear on your goddess that I will never eat again. I will die here and be reunited with my brother and mother in the afterlife. Nothing would make me happier.”

The horde king nostril’s flared.

Then, without warning, he grabbed me around the waist and hauled me up, striding over to the tray of food on the low table.

I gasped, struggling against him, my skirt riding up in the process. My thighs rubbed together as I squirmed, but I didn’t care about the rough pain. Not right then. Desperate sounds, small and frustrated and animal-like, emerged from my throat as I fought against his hold.

But he was unmovable. Like a mountain.

“Enough!” he bellowed, dropping us both down to the table. He maneuvered himself behind me, pinning my legs down with his own, bracketing my arms at my sides until I couldn’t move, but I still continued to struggle, finding energy and a fire inside me that I needed to keep fueled. No matter what.

When I realized what his intention was, my eyes widened. “You wouldn’t dare,” I hissed.

“If you will not eat,” he rasped, “then I will make you, kalles.”

I watched with frustration as he plucked a piece of dried meat from one of the dishes. Immediately, he pressed it to my lips, but I kept them tight together, keeping my teeth clenched, and turned my face to the side. He followed and I whipped my face to the other side.

And it continued. I don’t know how long I continued to fight against him, but soon, I grew tired. I was expending too much energy, my weakened muscles straining against him as I fought his hold.

“Stubborn kalles,” he growled. “I will break you like a wild pyroki if I must.”

You can try, I goaded in my mind, but kept my teeth firmly clenched.

He was growing more and more frustrated too and I would hold out for as long as I could. In my mind, it wasn’t even about the food anymore. It was about so much more and I couldn’t let him succeed. I wouldn’t.

Even when I felt something harden beneath my lap, even when he used his tail to keep my head still, even when I started panting from the exertion, I still fought.

Finally, the horde king let his hand fall away, though he kept me pinned. Relief went through me, thinking I’d won that battle. And if I could win one battle, I could win another.

“It seems you are feeling much better this day, kalles,” he finally rasped, something entirely different in his voice. Sucking in a sharp breath through my nostrils, I felt dread pool in my belly when he maneuvered our position, dragging my legs apart wider with his own, using his strong, flexible tail to wrap around my arms, holding them in place. I felt cool air rush over my sex and when I glanced down, I saw my skirt was barely concealing me. “Let us forget about the food then.”

I made an alarmed, muffled sound when his other hand came to cup my exposed sex. Biting my lip, I resumed my struggles when one of his fingers stroked over my slit, teasing the flesh.

I was all too aware that he still held the dried meat in his other hand, hovering just on the edge of my vision. The battle wasn’t over, he was just employing very different methods than before. That frustrated me, made me desperate to get away.

“Lysi,” he hissed, “you are making me ache, kalles.”

Stop, I screamed in my mind, please stop!

But he continued to slowly, almost languidly, stroke me between my thighs. He found my clit, pressing and rolling it with the rough pad of his finger.

And goddess help me…I felt my treacherous body responding to his surprisingly gentle, expert, exploring touch.

No, no, no!

Whimpering, I resumed my struggles tenfold, trying to scratch at his legs like a caged animal, muffled noises emerging from my throat.

But he never stopped. And I never gave in.

Soon, panic sank into my gut, my breathing going ragged, trying to fight against the heady pleasure that was building between my thighs.

In my ear, he rasped, “You are growing hot for me, kalles.” A dark chortle came next and I felt my cheeks heat with humiliation, with shame. “Vok, you need this. I need this too, kassikari.”

It was building and building, the heat growing hotter and hotter. I feared what would happen next.

Finally, desperate, I pleaded, “Stop.”

“What, kalles? I did not hear you.”

“Please, st—”

He shoved the piece of dried meat between my open lips.

Disbelief shot through me but before he could clamp my mouth together, I spit it out, though the delicious flavor burst on my tongue, making my stomach cramp with even more hunger. But I was used to it.

The horde king growled in dark frustration and, to my surprise, released me entirely, pushing me forward so he could stand.

The pins in my hair had fallen out, all of Lavi’s hard work destroyed, and I pushed back a tendril of escaped hair when I looked up at him, stunned. His expression was thunderous, though his cock tented the cloth covering him. Behind him, his tail flicked dangerously, back and forth. He was so large, he seemed to take up all the space in the palatial tent.

“Go hungry then, kalles. It is your choice,” he rasped. “Rest today. Because when I return tonight, I will have what you promised to me. It is obvious you have recovered your strength and I will not wait another night to claim your cunt.”

Glaring up at him, I felt my heart racing in my throat.

The horde king turned and stalked out of the tent, letting in a brief, blinding chunk of sunlight, before it closed. Then it was dark once more. Outside, I heard him bark something in Dakkari before his footsteps retreated.

Alone, I stared at the cold food on the low table in disbelief, at the dried meat I’d spit out, which had landed on the plush rug. Slowly, I picked it up and placed it back in the bowl.

My body was still humming from his touch. My body felt like a stranger’s.

I may have won that battle between us, but I felt like I’d won nothing at all.