Claimed by the Horde King (Horde Kings of Dakkar Book 2)

by Zoey Draven

  He nodded, though I thought I spied relief in his gaze. “Dress warmly,” he said before ducking out, giving me privacy, which seemed so unlike him.

  Inhaling a long breath, I found I was nervous as I pulled back on my fur-lined pants, a thick tunic, an even thicker fur sweater, and my pelt. My hair was still slightly wet from when I’d bathed in the common voliki earlier that evening and I stood over the fire, drying it as best as I could, before I pulled it back into a braid.

  I was still securing it with a piece of black cloth when I emerged from the tent and saw Seerin standing next to a pyroki. His pyroki, I realized.

  For a moment, I froze, remembering the last clear memory I had of the beast. Of Seerin astride him, looking down at me with a cold gaze as I wondered if he would kill me.

  It seemed like so long ago, but I was still jarred by the memory.

  “Lokkas,” he murmured, running his palm down the creature’s wide snout. Its hot breath came in heavy pants, silvering the air around it.

  Lokkas. It was his pyroki’s name. I wondered, briefly, if pyrokis’ given names were just as secretive as their masters’. Somehow, I thought it might be the case, and I wondered why Seerin would share it with me so easily.

  “Hello, Lokkas,” I said softly to him, reaching out hesitantly to stroke the side of his neck. Right then, I remembered that I’d been on his back before. I’d awoken on our way here from my village, bandaged and aching, and I’d felt the beast’s strength underneath me.

  I was all too aware that Seerin was close to me. How strange it seemed now that I’d slept beside him for over a week, yet just being within arm’s reach of him now sent a shiver down my spine.

  Perhaps that was why I couldn’t quite meet his eyes. And when I did, it wasn’t for long.

  “I will help you up,” he rasped. Before I could protest, his hands were around my waist, strong and sure, and he lifted me easily, settling me feet above the ground on the back of his pyroki, as if I weighed nothing more than a feather.

  A moment later, he swung up behind me and my face heated when his thighs clasped around my own. Though I’d touched his cock, bathed him, and seen him naked more times than I could count, just being cradled between his clothed, thick thighs was enough to make me question whether this had been a good idea or not.

  He took Lokkas’ reins in one fist, his hand coming around my waist to steady me as he urged his pyroki into a gentle trot.

  The entrance to the encampment came up quickly.

  Without hesitation, we went through the gate…and out onto the open plains of Dakkar.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  We rode on Lokkas’ back in silence beyond the gates of the encampment. An easy, gentle pace so the wind didn’t chill Nelle too much.

  We rode until the encampment was nothing more than a glowing speck, until the Hitri mountains grew sharper through the thick clouds.

  “Why did you want to come out here?” she asked.

  I’d felt starved for her voice and the way it wound through me, pulling away the tension that had been building over the course of the last four days and nights.

  “Because I feel less like a Vorakkar out here,” I rasped. “I am simply a Dakkari male on the back of my pyroki, as it should be.”

  “I don’t think you could ever simply be a Dakkari male, Seerin,” she said quietly. “You will always be a Vorakkar.”

  And therein lay the problem.

  “I knew who you were the moment I saw you in my village,” she added. “You were dressed no differently than the others. But I knew that you were one of them, a horde king we’d only heard about in legends and stories, because I felt it. You could be nothing else.”

  “Would you wish that I weren’t a Vorakkar?” I asked, my fist tightening on the reins.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she told me and I could hear the confusion in her tone, her confusion as to why I would ask such a question. “This is who you are. This is who you’ll always be.”

  I dropped my head, pressing my forehead to the back of her warm neck. My breath fanned out over her flesh and I felt a responding shiver rack her body.

  “Seerin,” she said quietly as I inhaled her soft scent, letting it fill my lungs. “You shouldn’t—”

  “I am yours, Nelle,” I rasped.

  She froze as a gust of wind whistled past us, rustling her braid.

  Then she turned in her seat until she met my eyes.

  “And you are mine,” I said. “You know this.”

  “Yet you denied it,” she answered.

  “I am sorry for that,” I murmured, reaching out to cup her face. “I am sorry for pulling away and for hurting you, thissie. You do not know how much. I have thought about it every moment of the day, every moment of the night.”

  It was what she wanted. It was exactly what she wanted to hear, I could see that in her expressive face.

  But still, she demanded more. “Then why did you do it?”

  “Because you frightened me,” I told her honestly. Her lips parted. “I have lived my life a certain way for a long time. Even when I was young in Dothik, I had a certain freedom. I did not have to answer to anyone, not even my mother. As Vorakkar, one would think I would have more freedom, but there are certain things to be considered and sometimes it leaves me shackled, not free.”

  “You…” she trailed off, her eyes flickering between my own. “These things you have to consider…is one of them your choice of Morakkari?”

  My lips pressed together. It was here I had to tread carefully.

  “Lysi,” I rasped, running a hand through my already disheveled hair. “I…I will not lie to you, Nelle. I cannot make you promises, not the promises I wish I could make to you, but I will try. For us.”

  “You’re still frightened,” she observed softly, frowning.

  “Aren’t you?” I returned.

  Her gaze dropped to my chest as she pondered my question.

  “You’re offering me not a ‘yes’ or a ‘no,’ but a ‘maybe.’”

  I inclined my head, my nostrils flaring, my heartbeat ringing in my ears. Because truthfully, I didn’t know what I would do if she rejected me—if she rejected this.

  The past few days had proven that she’d found her way into every part of me. I’d barely eaten, I hadn’t slept, and when I’d tried, I’d found myself reaching for her throughout the long nights.

  “I’ll need to think about it,” she said softly, meeting my gaze.

  It wasn’t the answer I wanted to hear, but it was better than a refusal.

  I swallowed, nodding. “Lysi. I understand.”

  “You’ll be leaving for Dothik soon,” she said next.

  “I leave the morning after the frost feast. I have lingered too long here and the moon is almost full.”

  Its light shone over her even then, growing with each passing night.

  She let out a small breath and nodded. “You’re still my friend, Seerin. No matter what. I’ll still worry for you. I’ll still miss you.”

  I brushed her cheek once, but then my hand retreated.

  “And I will miss you, rei thissie.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The night of the frost feast came quickly yet slowly. During the days, time seemed to speed up because I spent my time between the weapons tent and in Avuli’s voliki, helping her with the seemingly endless amount of repairs that had flooded in over the past two days.

  At the end of the day, I was exhausted, my hands cramping and aching. Truthfully, I was thankful for it, because it meant I was distracted.

  But even that distraction didn’t last long and lying in my bed of furs at night, time slowed because all I could think about was Seerin. After the night out on the plains, I’d seen and spoken to him briefly around camp, but nothing more. As if he was giving me space and time to decide what I wanted to do, he hadn’t attempted to come to my voliki after dark.

  Truthfully, I’d already had my answer for him that night. I’d felt it deep in my
chest. However, I hadn’t wanted to be too impulsive. I deserved the time to think, to weigh the possibilities and risks, but when the night of the frost feast came, my answer remained unchanged.

  And I was all too aware that he was leaving for Dothik in the morning.

  I’ll tell him tonight, I thought, a fluttering sensation of anticipation and excitement flowing through me as Avuli helped me lace up the back of my dress.

  Only a slight hesitation remained within me, a warning, but I ignored it. If I was going to do this, I decided, I would give it my all. I didn’t want to regret anything. I remembered my vow to take advantage of my time here and if that meant having Seerin as mine, I would do it.

  “All done,” Avuli said, turning me so she could inspect the front of the dress. I’d never worn one before, unless my night shift counted, but it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever donned.

  It was fur-lined on the bottom half of the dress, yet the material swayed and pleated as if it was made of the lightest silk. The color was an inky blue, as dark as the night sky. Despite the chill, the neckline was low-cut, but Avuli assured me that I wouldn’t be cold that night.

  “Between the wine and the barrel fires,” she said, smiling, “you will hardly feel the chill.”

  I wrapped my white pelt around my shoulders, a little uncomfortable that my breasts were so…on display. Regardless, I was grateful that my friend had taken the time to alter one of her gowns for me, though she was already so busy.

  “Thank you, Avuli,” I told her, smiling. “It’s beautiful.”

  I watched as she helped her son, whose name I now knew was Arlah, pull on his best tunic. I would go with them to the feast, which I was thankful for. Despite my excitement and my curiosity for the night, I was still incredibly nervous.

  Once Arlah was finished dressing, Avuli said, “Shall we go? My father and brother are already there. They do love their wine.”

  In the distance, coming from the open space next to the training grounds, I heard what sounded like drums reverberating around the camp. I nodded and we set out from the voliki.

  Even the energy of the horde was different. Dakkari were pouring in from all directions of the encampment, laughter and excited voices following in their wake. When the frost feast came into view, I was surprised to see most of the horde was already there and I was stunned by the beauty of it, the picture it made in my mind.

  The Dakkari were a race of physically beautiful, physically overwhelming beings. The females had their hair long, black and silky down their backs. Their dresses were in different colors, ranging from the palest of blues to almost darkened blacks. Some were even in dresses of silver and white, showing off their generous, voluptuous curves. They were all in silks, which were so different from the garments of fur and hide they usually wore around camp.

  As for the males, I was surprised to see most were bare-chested. Bare-chested, only wearing thick-soled boots and fur-lined hide pants.

  Almost all the barrel fires from around the camp, along with familiar golden basins, were placed through the feast. Roaring and hot, they made the space glow, reflecting off golden skin and golden markings.

  When we drew near, I understood why the males could go bare-chested and why Avuli had told me the cold wouldn’t be a problem. The plethora of fires heated the entire space, even thawing the ice on the ground below. Once we entered the feast, I could feel the flames licking against my skin and I knew I’d have to remove my pelt before the night’s end.

  Next to the tall, broad Dakkari females, I felt small and out of place as we wound our way through the growing crowd.

  “I see my father,” Avuli said. “Let’s go join him.”

  I nodded, but she didn’t see. Arlah grabbed my hand, his small palm enveloped in mine, as we followed his mother and stopped in front of a small table where the weapons master sat, happily chatting with another older male to his right, a goblet of wine in his hand.

  He saw his daughter and greeted her jovially in Dakkari, as if he hadn’t seen her in weeks. When his eyes turned to me, he grinned and said in the universal tongue, “And here is my favorite apprentice.”

  “I am your only apprentice, mitri.”

  “She crafted a near-perfect arrow today,” he told the older male before taking a healthy swallow from his goblet.

  The older male, one I recognized from around camp, one of the elders, narrowed his gaze on me. I felt a decided chill from him and the smile died from my face.

  He stood, saying something to my mitri in Dakkari, inclining his head at Avuli, ignoring me completely, before he departed the table.

  I looked after him, swallowing, but Avuli ushered me to sit and my mitri was pressing a goblet into my hand before I had time to think about the elder’s abrupt and cold departure.

  The table was circular and high. I was so used to the low tables and sitting on my cushions to take meals that it seemed strange now, though the height and design were very similar to my table back at my village.

  Now that I was sitting, I felt less uncomfortable, less out of place, and observed the feast at my leisure as Avuli and her father talked in the universal tongue for my benefit. I half-listened, taking a small sip of the wine, feeling it burn down my throat.

  There were fifteen tables I counted, including a smaller table on a raised dais at the front of the feast. Each table was packed with Dakkari, with warriors and families and unmated females and children.

  At the far corner, a group of older males and one female played four sets of drums, beating out a primal rhythm I felt deep in my chest. Groups stood next to the barrel fires, packing in all available space. I spied a group of females next to one, a few I recognized because they’d delivered Seerin’s meals once or twice. Females who vied for his attentions, females who’d made their distaste of me known.

  I swallowed and looked away, searching the crowd for Seerin, though I knew he had yet to arrive. I didn’t feel that prickle of awareness whenever he was near.

  However, it was only a short while later when he appeared. The crowd hushed and the drums died down when he entered the gathering and my heart picked up at the sight of him. I imagined every female’s heartbeat did the same because how could they not?

  His golden hair was half tied back, revealing the hardened lines and edges of his jaw and nose and cheekbones. He wore his black pelt that night, but once he ascended the dais, he took it from his shoulders and draped it on the back of his chair, leaving him as bare-chested as the rest of the males.

  He wore his golden cuffs on his thick wrists, his scars and markings on full display, reminding all present that he had earned his right to be Vorakkar, that he had earned his right to sit on that throne.

  Seerin dropped into his seat as his horde watched him. I wondered if he felt every single pair of eyes on him—if he felt mine.

  He looked into the crowd, searching. When his eyes connected with mine, they held, and I heard his voice clearly, as if he spoke directly into my ear, as he rumbled out, “Delni unru drikkan kussun bak.”

  Cheers rang up into the night sky and in a flurry of motion, females suddenly appeared with heaping, massive plates of food. They deposited them on every table. When one of the females came to ours, the platter thudded down and it was the most meat I’d ever seen in my entire life.

  I caught Seerin’s gaze again, noticing that an older bikku had brought him a specially prepared platter.

  “Eat, Nelle,” Avuli said to my left. When I looked over at her, I saw that Arlah was already eating, plucking chunks of meat from the platter happily and stuffing them into his wide mouth.

  My friend had a knowing expression on her face and I knew I’d been caught looking at Seerin. I nodded and began taking some meat, though my stomach was now fluttering.

  After a while, I noticed that the tables began passing platters and our mound of meat disappeared, only to be replaced by one of my favorites: precisely cut squares of the purple bread I now knew was called kuveri.


  Avuli’s brother, Odrii, who’d shared his given name with me during our last shooting lesson, appeared, sauntering over to our table from a group of warriors he’d joined. In his hand was a goblet and he wore a wide grin when he saw me.

  He collapsed with a deep sigh into the chair across from me and reached out to take my hand, leaning towards me.

  “How pretty you look tonight,” he murmured, his eyes glittering.

  I shook my head at him, chuckling slightly because it was obvious that Odrii was slightly drunk off the fermented wine, which spilled from his goblet. His hand was heavy and warm.

  “Will you dance with me later?” he asked next, his gaze intent on me.

  His father replied, “Leave her alone, you fool. You will only embarrass yourself if you force her to dance with you.”

  Avuli’s hand covered her brother’s and peeled it away from my palm. “If you wish to keep this hand, brother, you would be wise to keep it to yourself.”

  Shock at her words made me regard her, but her lips were pressed tightly together. I wondered why she would say that, but it only took another moment to realize why.

  Seerin looked thunderous from his place on the dais. His eyes were on Odrii and I could feel his displeasure on the opposite side of the feast. It rolled off him in waves.

  He was jealous.

  Intensely so. But his jealousy seemed deeper, as if what Odrii had done was an insult.

  Odrii didn’t seem to comprehend his sister’s words. Instead, he grabbed some kuveri, placing it into his mouth, chewing happily, gazing around at the females that swayed past.

  I, on the other hand, turned to look at Avuli. She met my eyes and held them.

  She’d never asked me directly about my relationship with her Vorakkar. But I knew she was no fool. Even Odrii had heard the rumors around the encampment, so of course Avuli would’ve too.

  I didn’t know what to say so I ate another kuveri square, half-listening as my mitri drew his son into conversation about learning to shoot the bow and arrow.

  “She is a good instructor,” Odrii said, grinning over at me. I forced a smile, all too aware of Seerin’s gaze. “I did well last time, did I not?”