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

by Zoey Draven

  Something occurred to me just then and I asked, “Rath Tuviri…it’s his mother’s line, is it not?”

  Seerin had never known his father. He wouldn’t have taken his name.

  The pujerak didn’t need to answer for me to know I was right.

  “So, perhaps you are wrong,” I said, clutching my bow tighter, lifting my chin. I wouldn’t be cowed by his threats. “One female’s will helped create this horde. A female who was not of an ancient line, who may not have seemed important to anyone. But she only needed to be important to one.” The Dothikkar. “You believe that I will destroy this horde? I’m almost flattered you think I have so much power.”

  His laugh was bitter. “Make no mistake, vekkiri, his mother is as calculating and as ruthless as they come. She knew exactly what she was doing.” His head tilted. “Perhaps you are more like her than I first realized.”

  My lips pressed together at the barb. Calculating and ruthless?

  “Even still, you are not strong enough to be what he needs,” the pujerak said next, twisting the knife deep.

  Doubt crept into my mind even as I turned away from him, looking back to the target riddled with my arrows.

  “If you care for him,” his voice came from behind me, “then you will end it.”

  “I will do no such thing,” I said softly, nocking my arrow. But I was rattled, my hand shaking, and when I released, the arrow flew wide, nowhere near its intended mark. My first miss of the night.

  “You will leave this horde if you want what is best for him.”

  “Are you finished threatening me now?” I asked, whipping around to meet his gaze. A small ball of anger burned in my belly. I wasn’t used to anger. I steered clear from it, but it pinched hard right then.

  He was obviously pleased to see he’d struck a nerve and I hated that I’d given him that satisfaction.

  “You will see for yourself, vekkiri,” he said, turning, already walking away. “You are a mistake. He will realize that soon enough.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The Vorakkar of Rath Drokka was spinning a blade, the pointed end wedged into the Dothikkar’s wooden banquet table. Round and round, he twisted the handle until it made a deep notch into the wood, the blade flashing with each smooth rotation.

  I watched him across the table and he watched me. He was called the Mad Horde King for a reason, but I liked him better for daring to deface the Dothikkar’s property in his presence, no less.

  He had ink-black hair, which hung long over his shoulders and shielded half his face. His eyes were red and glowing. A deep scar ran down his cheek. It looked old, as if he’d received it when he was a child.

  Even the Dothikkar at the head of the table, who’d grown fatter since I’d last seen him, seemed wary of Rath Drokka. He pressed his lips together, staring at the blade for a brief moment, before he turned his attention back to the Vorakkar of Rath Dulia.

  Rath Dulia, on the other hand, I had never liked. He was an older male, one who’d been Vorakkar for more seasons than I’d been alive. His time was ending, but even still, he would do anything to please the Dothikkar, to extend that time on the plains a little longer.

  My lips pressed together in distaste when Rath Dulia said, “I have brought warriors with me here, Dothikkar. Three dozen of my best. I will send them to aid your fine soldiers in search of the Ghertun that were spotted close to the capitol.”

  “Very good, Rath Dulia,” the Dothikkar replied, before looking out at the rest of us seated at the table. “You see? He will do whatever it takes to eliminate this threat to Dothik, at a great personal cost to himself. Why is it that you will not do the same?”

  The Vorakkar of Rath Rowin, who sat to my right, spoke. “Because unlike Rath Dulia, we do not need three dozen of our best warriors to guide us to the capitol, Dothikkar. Nor would we take the best warriors away from our hordes in our absence.”

  My eyes connected with Rath Kitala, who sat next to the Mad Horde King. All the horde kings had come alone, with the exception of Rath Dulia.

  “Because I knew my warriors would be of service to the Dothikkar,” Rath Dulia growled in response.

  My patience was wearing thin. I had been traveling day and night to reach Dothik in time, battling the icy frost winds and running on next to no sleep. For what? To argue endlessly for hours in the Dothikkar’s hall? If I’d wanted that, I would’ve stayed in my horde and argued with my council. At least then, I could go to my female afterwards.

  “We have accomplished nothing here,” I growled. “We have been at this table for hours and what have we decided about the Ghertun? Nothing. Why? Because there is nothing to be done until after the cold season.”

  The Vorakkar of Rath Loppar, another older horde king, one I deeply respected, said, “Lysi. My encampment is situated closer to the Dead Lands than the others. I have sent out multiple scouts to monitor their movements and they have all reported the Ghertun have moved underground.” His eyes came to me. “I agree with Rath Tuviri. This meeting will lead nowhere, given the time of the season. We should reconvene after the thaw, after they slither out from their hibernation.”

  The Dothikkar leveled his cold gaze on me. I’d felt it multiple times throughout the long meeting. His yellow eyes narrowed as he asked me, “And what of the Ghertun sightings? You think seeking them out is pointless too, Rath Tuviri?”

  “I believe they are untrue reports.”

  “You call your Dothikkar a liar then?” the Dothikkar asked next, which was what he was always going to ask.

  I knew what he was doing but I wouldn’t play into it.

  My lips quirked as I responded, “Of course not, Dothikkar. I simply question the validity of the reports, since we all know Ghertun cannot survive above ground during the harsher season. Or perhaps you do not know, considering you stay within the comfort and warmth of your halls and have not traveled out to the plains as your father had done before you.”

  His father had been a true Dothikkar. He’d brought about a prosperous age on Dakkar during his rule and had incited deep loyalty among the outposts, among the Vorakkar roaming his plains.

  The outrage on the Dothikkar’s expression brought just enough satisfaction to make my words worth it.

  Rath Drokka began to laugh, deep and booming, still spinning his dagger.

  It was Rath Kitala that spoke up to try to diffuse the sudden tension. “Dothikkar, I suggest that we break for the night. We can resume in the morning, once all of us are rested. We have traveled a long way.”

  The Dothikkar didn’t even look at Rath Kitala. After he’d learned that he’d taken a human Morakkari, he’d hardly spoken two words to him.

  Rath Okkili, the last Vorakkar present, said, “Lysi. I need sleep, a good wine, and perhaps a female or two to warm my furs.”

  It was the perfect thing to say to the Dothikkar to ease the rising tension. I both appreciated and hated Rath Okkili for saying it, however.

  “Lysi. You will be shown your rooms,” the Dothikkar said. Though he knew three of the Vorakkars present—Rath Kitala, Dulia, and Loppar—had taken Morakkaris, he still said, “Then you can all have your pick of my concubines for the night.” His gaze came to me. “Except for my favorites, of course.”

  My lips pressed together. Rath Drokka’s gaze came to me, watching as my claws raked across the surface of the table. They all knew my mother was one of his favorites, naturally. They all knew the barb was meant for me and me alone.

  Rath Kitala scraped his chair away from the table, loud and echoing in the great hall built from stone, just one room in the Dothikkar’s stronghold. Rath Drokka did the same, but he immediately strode from the room, followed shortly by Rath Okkili and Rath Rowin.

  I stood, never taking my eyes from the Dothikkar. Rath Kitala rounded the table, clapped me on my shoulder and urged, “Come.”

  With a soft growl, I tore my eyes from the Dothikkar and walked from the hall, Rath Kitala at my back. I trusted him the most out of all of the
Vorakkar. He had my given name, after all, and I had his.

  We ascended the stairs of the stronghold, following one of the Dothikkar’s servants to our rooms. I’d never liked being so high up. I thought the Dothikkar’s ancestral home was unnatural. The heartbeat of Dakkar could best be felt through the earth, on solid, fragrant, rich ground. It felt confining to be away from it.

  After the servant showed us our rooms and assured us a bathing tub was already prepared for us inside, the Vorakkar of Rath Kitala stopped me in the long corridor.

  When we were alone, he said, “You seem different, Seerin. What has happened?”

  “I do not know what you speak of,” I rasped.

  “You have always been controlled,” Arokan said, studying me. “Unnaturally so.”

  Because I’d had to be.

  “Yet you openly challenge the Dothikkar and show your emotions to all,” he continued. “I saw you only a month ago and you were not like this.”

  Because I had not known my thissie a month ago. When I’d last seen Arokan, it had been to congratulate him on his human bride and I’d been on my way to Nelle’s village, to punish the hunters responsible for the kinnu herd.

  It had seemed so long ago now.

  “I am simply tired,” I told him instead of the truth. “I need rest. And you know I always hate coming to Dothik. It sets my teeth on edge.”

  Arokan nodded. “Then rest, my friend. Let us try to persuade the Dothikkar quickly tomorrow, so that we may all return to our hordes.”

  Nothing sounded better to me. The Vorakkar of Rath Kitala no doubt itched to return to his pregnant mate. And I could feel Nelle’s absence like it was a tangible thing.

  I nodded and then we went into our separate rooms. Mine was richly appointed, with a high bed, plush carpets that covered the entirety of the floor, and tall windows.

  I went to them. Looking out, I saw the glimmer of the capitol below. Of winding, stone roads, square, tall buildings, and alleyways that connected the city like veins in a body. There were no domed voliki here. There was no sense of community. There was only loyalty to gold and riches.

  I knew every inch of the capitol. I knew every hidden, ugly secret. I knew timetables and routines. I knew which elders and council members liked to visit the brothels and which liked their brew strong. I knew that from afar, the capitol seemed like a glittering possibility of hope, but up close, it was covered in grime.

  Then I looked beyond the capitol, towards the plains. I could see the mountains of the Hitri and from there, I knew which direction my horde lay. I knew where my female was and I wondered if she slept right then, or if she was awake, thinking about me as I thought about her.

  Turning from the window, I went to my steaming bath, undressed, and stepped in. My body ached from the long journey and I tilted my head back, closing my eyes as the heat helped soothe my muscles.

  A small sound came at the door and I watched as it opened.

  My mother didn’t say anything as she stepped inside the room and closed the door behind her.

  I hadn’t seen her in over a year, since I’d last been summoned to Dothik. She looked older, deep creases beginning to form around the sides of her mouth and through her forehead.

  But her golden hair still shimmered in a soft wave down her back and her light grey eyes met mine and held them.

  She was dressed in a rich gown of maroon velvet and a heavy, gold necklace spanned wide across her throat like a collar. It was the only thing I was grateful for…that as one of the Dothikkar’s favorites, she was treated well. She had her own room in the stronghold, she ate the best foods, she dressed in luxurious things she’d only ever coveted as a brothel prostitute. She never had to worry about poverty, or earning enough gold, or forgoing another meal so I could eat instead.

  My gaze went to the necklace she wore and I mused that it had more gold in it than she’d ever made during her time at the brothel.

  She came to kneel next to my bathing tub and she reached out to cup my face.

  “How I’ve missed you,” she whispered to me, looking into my eyes. For all my mother’s faults, I’d never once doubted her love. Not ever.

  I pressed my damp forehead to her own. When I’d been younger, this was how she’d always greeted me. Sometimes, I wouldn’t see her for weeks on end, other times just a few days, but regardless, she always acted like she hadn’t seen me in decades.

  She pulled away, her eyes running over my face, studying every change in me as only a mother could. I wondered if she sensed something different in me, as Arokan of Rath Kitala had.

  “How far did you come?” she asked softly, still keeping my face in her hands.

  “From the east,” I told her. “Four days’ travel on Lokkas.”

  She nodded. “Tell me everything that’s happened since I saw you last.”

  I did my best. She sat beside the bath as I told her the events of the last year. How, shortly after the thaw, as we tracked a pack of ungira to our new encampment, we were ambushed by Ghertun. We’d lost two warriors and three pyrokis in the attack but managed to eliminate every last Ghertun. One of the warriors who fell had been the seamstresses’ mate and I’d always carried guilt that I could have foreseen the events of that day, that I could’ve stopped them.

  I told her of the waterfalls of the Trikki, a place we’d made our second encampment for the year, during the warm season, towards the south. I told her that the wrissan herds there were so plentiful that we’d managed to dry enough of their meat for two cold seasons.

  I told her of the journey east, as we sought a new encampment to base at for the approaching cold season.

  My bath was growing cold when I finally told her about the human settlement to the east, that I’d gone there on patrol with my warriors shortly after making camp and had to punish a female for hunting. Recounting the memory left a sour taste in my mouth and churned my gut. I remembered Nelle, kneeling on the earth because I’d ordered her to. I remembered seeing the flash of the whip.

  With a growl, I rose from the bath water, drying off quickly and dressing. My mother was looking at me, still kneeling next to the bath, and I helped her up, pressing her palms into mine.

  Her gaze was always knowing. “You feel guilt for this? For doing your duty as Vorakkar?”

  “Lysi.”

  “Why? The vekkiri know our laws.”

  “You did not see what I saw, lomma,” I told her. “They are duvna in their own way, only there is no wealth in the settlements to take. They are all hungry. They are all just trying to survive.”

  Her gaze narrowed. It was then she seemed unfamiliar to me. It was then I realized she’d long forgotten our own struggles. Had she forgotten the piercing ache of hunger? Had she forgotten the chilling fear?

  Looking at her now, one would think she’d grown up in this stronghold, in the wealthiest place in all of Dakkar.

  “What happened to the female, Seerin?” she asked slowly.

  “I took her,” I told her, setting my jaw, knowing that she already saw the truth in my eyes. I’d never been able to hide anything from her.

  “What do you mean you took her?”

  “She is of my horde now,” I said softly.

  Her expression didn’t change, but her voice was firm when she said, “Nik.”

  “Lysi.”

  Her nostrils flared. Her claws curled into my palm where I still held her hand.

  “I did not make you Vorakkar so that you could pollute our line, Seerin.”

  My mother had aspired to greatness all her life, though she’d been lowborn. I knew that my status of Vorakkar brought her more pride than being the Dothikkar’s favorite concubine. She’d worn that pride like a badge ever since the Trials.

  “Look at how far Rath Kitala has fallen already,” she hissed quietly. “I hear his vekkiri mate is pregnant. Can you imagine a hybrid leading a horde? Nik. No Dakkari would follow, no matter how ancient Rath Kitala’s line is. The Dothikkar would never allow a hybrid to
enter the Trials.”

  No one would have followed a prostitute’s bastard son either, I thought.

  “Yet he allowed me in,” I pointed out, disturbed by the hatred I heard in her voice.

  “Because of me,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “Nik. Take the vekkiri as your whore if you must, but nothing more, Seerin. I forbid it. Your Morakkari will be pure, from a noble line. It will solidify your place as Vorakkar. It will allow your heirs to enter the Trials. That is what we have worked towards.”

  My jaw ticked.

  “You try so hard to erase your past, lomma,” I said softly. “You try so hard to erase who you were, to build the life you want through me. Does it even matter what I want?”

  She exhaled a sharp breath. “Do you think your council and your pujerak will stand behind you if you take a vekkiri as your queen? Nik, of course not.”

  Rath Kitala’s did, I thought to myself. And Vodan was my oldest friend. He would always remain loyal to me. With him at my side, the horde would remain strong.

  “If they leave you, your horde will fall. Everything will be for nothing.”

  “I am Vorakkar of Rath Tuviri,” I said. “It is not you who controls my horde, lomma. And I will always do what is best for my horde.”

  Relief entered her gaze at my words. “And what is best for your horde, Seerin, is a strong Morakkari. One who understands our ways, one who the horde will accept and follow without hesitation.”

  What she didn’t know was that Nelle had the will of a Vorakkar. I had known that since taking her from her village.

  When I didn’t reply, she must’ve assumed that the matter was settled, that she’d gotten her way, just as she had with the Dothikkar.

  She touched my jaw. “Come, Seerin, I do not want to argue over this. Not now. I very rarely see you. We will put this behind us, lysi?”

  Her words left me in a darkened mood. I detested the way she spoke of Nelle, as if she was soiled, when in reality, she was the purest being I’d ever encountered.

  A part of me felt guilty, knowing that if given the choice, I would rather be with Nelle right then rather than in Dothik at all, though it was the only time I got to see my mother.