Captive Of The Horde King

by Zoey Draven

  When I was finished scrubbing at the scales, I stepped back, dropping the reins. My feet carried me until there was a healthy distance between us and the pyroki eyed me before tossing its neck and then sauntering over to the trough of meat.

  I squealed when I felt a cold nose brush the back of my neck and I wheeled around to see another pyroki had snuck up behind me. A curious one, a pyroki not claimed by a horde warrior, considering it had no golden paint flanking its hide.

  I brought up my hands to him as I backed away again, this time going all the way to the fence of the enclosure. The pyroki followed and every step it took ricocheted my heartbeat.

  “Alright,” I said to it. “That is close enough.”

  “He will not harm you, kalles,” came Arokan’s voice, right behind me.

  I whipped my head around, to see that he’d come up to the fence, was draping his arms over the metal, his tail flicking behind him.

  “You don’t know that,” I said. “They are unpredictable.”

  “Nik, they are not.”

  I bit my tongue, turning my face to the side when it nudged against me, sniffing my cheek.

  “Arokan,” I hissed, sliding closer towards him.

  He caught me through the fence, holding me in place, even though I struggled to escape.

  In my ear, he rasped, “You just groomed a pyroki, Luna. You can handle this one. Just stay still and let him explore your scent.”

  “Why is he doing this?” I hissed again.

  “He is curious.”

  I pushed further back into Arokan, just moments from climbing over the fence, but he held me still. It took me a moment to realize that I’d turned to him for safety. It took me a moment to realize that he must truly think I was safe, or else he would never let the pyroki near me.

  That knowledge made me blow out a breath, made me try to relax as I kept still and let the beast sniff me.

  Something cold and wet and slimy touched my cheek and I realized it was the snot from his nose. Gross.

  But after a few long moments, the pyroki finally lost interest and slowly backed away, trotting over to another pyroki, who it smelled too.

  A deep sigh of relief left me, but it didn’t last for long. Soon, Kailon came over, sensing that his master was near. Unlike the other pyroki, Kailon didn’t take an interest in me, only had eyes for Arokan and seemed to marginally tolerate my presence.

  “Why do you fear them so much?” Arokan asked softly, reaching out his hand to stroke Kailon’s neck.

  I looked into the pyroki’s red eyes, remembering that red peering at me in the ice forest on that cold night—

  “A pyroki killed my mother,” I told him, the words tumbling out of me and I couldn’t look away from Kailon.

  Arokan’s arms tensed around me.

  Or, rather, I killed my mother because a pyroki had mauled her in such a viscous way that there was no hope left for her.

  “So, you see, I will always fear them,” I told him softly, “because I know what they are capable of. I’ve seen it.”

  “Kalles—”

  “Don’t,” I whispered. “Please.”

  Arokan took my hand and pressed it to Kailon’s snout, though my whole body tensed.

  “I am sorry about your mother, Luna,” he said in my ear. “But know this…Kailon is loyal to me. Kailon has saved my life many times. Now, he is as much yours as he is mine. He will serve you if you ask him, he will be bound to you if you ask him. He will never harm you so you never have to fear him. They are intelligent creatures, sometimes more intelligent than we are.”

  Kailon’s scales felt cool beneath my hand, but Arokan’s hand felt hot.

  “I know you fear them. I feel your body shaking, feel your heart thundering in your chest,” he whispered, but I never took my eyes away from Kailon’s. “You make me proud, kassikari.”

  My breath hitched, surprise washing through me.

  “You fear them, but you are here. That should make you proud too,” he told me.

  He was being kind again. And just like last time, I didn’t know if I liked it. Because it made me feel things I shouldn’t.

  Finally, I turned my head to look directly into Arokan’s eyes. They were so black that I saw my reflection in them, that I saw Kailon’s reflection in them.

  I thought about what Hukan said—that I would never be strong enough to stand at Arokan’s side—and I thought about what she’d offered me to leave him—my old life.

  I thought about telling him about Hukan’s betrayal, but I kept my mouth shut on that subject. She was still his family and I would need to tread lightly.

  “Stop being nice,” I whispered.

  His grin made my belly warm. “I forget that you do not like it, kalles.”

  He released me then and I let my hand glide away from Kailon’s snout. Arokan said something in Dakkari—a command—and his pyroki obeyed, wandering off to eat.

  When I felt like I could breathe again, I realized that many eyes were on us. The pyroki master, Mirari and Lavi, the two guards assigned to me, the two Dakkari males who’d been speaking with Arokan, in addition to members of the horde that had been wandering by at the time.

  My cheeks flamed, wondering if they’d seen my fear, hoping they hadn’t.

  When I looked at Arokan, he was back in Vorakkar mode, looking down at me with his stoic expression, so unlike the teasing warmth of his voice a moment before.

  You make me proud, kassikari, he’d said.

  I nodded up at him and whispered, “Thank you.”

  He inclined his head and a moment later, he turned and left.

  I watched him go, watched him return to the Dakkari males and they resumed onwards towards wherever they’d been going. I bit my lip, swallowing, before turning back to the pen.

  The pyroki master called out, “You have many to groom still, Morakkari, before the sun falls!”

  I sighed, set my sights on the next pyroki—one that seemed more docile and quiet than the rest—and slowly made my approach.

  It was going to be a long day.

  I was squirming in the bathing tub as my husband petted my body at his leisure.

  For once, he’d finished with his duties around camp early and had come to wait for me at the pyroki enclosure around dusk, seemingly content to watch me interact with the creatures. Afterwards, he’d led me to our tent, where a hot bath and a hot meal had already been waiting.

  I’d scarfed down the dinner in record time, ravenous after my long afternoon with the pyroki, and then he’d promptly stripped me and carried me into the tub with him.

  And after a thorough washing of us both, Arokan now seemed content to simply run his clawed fingers up and down my body, touching me in places that made my sex quiver, but doing nothing more.

  Though he was hard and aching against my backside, he simply caressed me. Teased me.

  And I bit my lip through it all, not wanting to give into him, not wanting him to know that I wanted something more.

  Frustration and my arousal grew hand-in-hand and I made a small sound in my throat when he threaded his fingers through my hair, my eyelids fluttering at how good it felt, at how gentle he was being.

  But I kept still, though he was slowly driving me to madness. A part of me was wondering why he hadn’t wedged himself inside me already, right there in the bathing tub. I was wet for him, aroused, though I would never admit it.

  I felt him take a deep breath, his chest rising against my back, and his wandering hand slowed to a stop, resting on my hip.

  My eyes flew open, waiting. But he did nothing and I swallowed the frustrated sound rising in my throat.

  “I am told you visited the injured warrior and his kassikari. That you returned a second time and brought them a meal while I was gone,” Arokan said softly.

  I stiffened. He’d told me I couldn’t see the warrior, but I’d done it anyways. Was he angry?

  “I needed to see him for myself. To apologize for what happened,” I replied
.

  “A Morakkari does not apologize.”

  “This one does,” I told him.

  Arokan huffed out a sharp breath. “And why did you go to the stalls for hji?”

  I turned to look at him over my shoulder. “You’re keeping tabs on me?”

  “Your guards report to me.”

  I pressed my lips together and said, “Because the warrior said that the pyroki master enjoys hji. And since I’m sure my guards already told you, I did not want to shovel pyroki shit for the rest of my life, which I did yesterday.”

  Arokan grunted, but didn’t reply.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t have,” I mused. “I think I liked yesterday better, shit and all.”

  “You did well today,” Arokan rasped. “It will get easier.”

  I didn’t know if that would happen.

  But what he said next made me still.

  “Tell me what happened, kalles. How your mother got attacked by a pyroki.”

  Even though my mother was dead, some part of me still feared for her. She’d been trying to hunt, after all, outside the village walls. If a Dakkari had come upon her then, she would’ve been killed on sight.

  “Tell me, Luna,” he said softly, as though sensing my hesitation.

  “It was during the cold season,” I said. “Our rations were low. The Uranian Federation couldn’t get a supply drop to us because of the weather. We were all hungry.”

  His hand tensed at my hip.

  “My mother was desperate. My brother was barely ten at the time, a child, and he cried and cried all day and all night. She went beyond the walls. She took a blade and I was scared that a Dakkari might find her. So I followed after her.

  “I don’t know what she was trying to do. She’d never killed anything before in her life. But like I said, she was desperate. She would do anything for us. So, she ventured into the ice forest nearest our village. I trailed behind her because, even though I was afraid for her, I was also hungry. I kept hoping that maybe she would find something. Anything, so that we could eat. I should have stopped her.”

  That fact hurt most of all. That my own selfishness and my own desperation got her killed.

  “I remember seeing red eyes through the trees and before I knew it, she was screaming. A pyroki was on her, attacking her, biting her stomach and her arms…and I ran into the clearing, not even thinking. It bolted when it saw me, but the damage was done.”

  “Luna,” Arokan murmured, turning my face so he could see me. His lips were pulled down into a frown, but his eyes were soft.

  I swallowed, blinking back tears as I looked at him. “It was awful,” I whispered. “I was in shock and she was still alive, but in a tremendous amount of pain. There was blood, so much blood. Black on that ice. And I kept thinking the pyroki would return. But my mother saw me and told me to protect Kivan. Always. I promised her that I would.

  “Then she handed me the blade. It was slippery with her blood,” I said, though I wasn’t even sure I was talking to Arokan anymore. “She asked me to…to…and I did. I had to. I didn’t want her to suffer and I knew she was beyond help. But—,” my lip trembled as I admitted, “I fear I made it worse. I was clumsy with a blade, didn’t know how to use it and I—I—”

  “Kalles, look at me,” Arokan said gently. My eyes found his and I’d never felt more vulnerable and exposed, sitting there in the bathing tub with him, with only the light from the candles illuminating our eyes, as I spilled my darkest memory. “You were brave. Not many would have done that, but you were brave and you loved her enough to want to end her pain. Do not be ashamed of that.”

  “But I am,” I said. “I’d never felt weaker.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Fifteen.”

  He made a sound in his throat, his eyes closing for a brief moment. “Not more than a child yourself.”

  “I was old enough,” I whispered. “And if I’d been strong enough to call her back, if I hadn’t wanted to eat, she would still be alive. It was my fault.”

  Arokan ran his hand down my wet hair, fresh from washing. He was quiet for a moment and then said softly, “Pyrokis give birth in the cold season and the wild ones build their nests in the ice forests across Dakkar.”

  My brow furrowed. “What?” I whispered.

  “They are fierce creatures when their young are threatened. I am certain that was why your mother was attacked. She accidentally came across a wild pyroki nest and the mother was defending what she believed a threat to her offspring. Just like your mother, she was desperate to save her young.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut as that knowledge sunk in.

  “They are not normally vicious creatures,” he said gently. “But they form strong attachments to their offspring and protect them at any cost, just like humans, just like Dakkari. Your mother’s death was a tragedy, kalles. She was in the wrong place at the wrong moment. Do not ever think that it was your fault, Luna.”

  A part of me would always know the truth. That I could’ve prevented her death. Nothing would change that. I had internalized it so deep, that guilt, that I had thrown myself into doing what I’d promised her: protect Kivan. I had forgotten myself in doing so. I had worked long hours and slept little. I had snuck portions of my food into his so he wouldn’t go as hungry. I had defended him against the village, to Polin when he’d wanted to exile him to another settlement for another one of his failed mishaps.

  I had bargained with a horde king to save his life, although right then, that didn’t feel like a hardship. Not when I was fed, clean, and protected. Not when Arokan’s warmth felt like a luxury. Not when his deep voice sent shivers down my spine and he touched me like I was a gift.

  He was strong and brave and he made the decisions that no one else wanted to make, just like Hukan said.

  I admired him for that, though it also frightened me.

  I remembered feeling weak after my mother died. I remembered being afraid. I never wanted to feel that way again.

  “Arokan,” I said softly, remembering what Mirari had said about the Dakkari females.

  “Lysi?”

  I took a deep breath and asked, “Will you teach me how to fight? How to wield a blade? How to be strong?”

  He cocked his head ever so slightly, studying me, his lips still pulled down into a frown.

  “Knowing how to fight with a blade does not make you strong, kalles,” he said, his tone gentle.

  “Before you left, you asked me if I would kill the Ghertun scout myself if he threatened the horde,” I said. “And that scared me because I haven’t touched a blade since…since my mother. I’d never needed to, back at my village. I stayed inside the walls and lived.” I licked my lips. “But I’m not in the village anymore. I’m here and this is my life now. And if you think there’s a possibility that I will have to protect myself or the horde one day, then I’m asking you to teach me how.”

  “I will protect you, kalles,” he said.

  “I know,” I whispered. And I did. I knew he would protect me at all costs though I didn’t understand why. “But if you’re not around? What then? It couldn’t hurt for me to know some basics. My piki told me that Dakkari females know how to fight. Why shouldn’t I?”

  He blew out a rough breath, considered my words for a long, tense moment.

  Finally, he nodded and I felt relieved.

  “I will teach you,” he said. “We will begin tomorrow.”

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  “Simply because you are my queen,” he said, “does not mean I will go easy on you, kalles. You wish to learn? You will. Just like all other Dakkari do. With blood and sweat and fatigue. Lysi?”

  His words sent a chill down my spine, but I set my jaw and whispered, “Lysi.”

  But I couldn’t help but wonder what I’d gotten myself into.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Again,” Arokan commanded roughly.

  I was panting and my legs and arms were shaking from the seemingly hours of exe
rcise that Arokan was putting me through.

  When he said he wouldn’t be easy on me, he’d meant it.

  I’d asked for this, however, so I would take whatever he gave me. I wouldn’t complain. I would learn.

  I got back into position, across from him, about arm’s length away. His expression was unreadable as his hand flashed towards me. My stomach dropped and I ducked, the underused muscles in my thighs straining from the repetitive motions.

  I popped back up, sweat dripping down my back, just as his other hand whipped out towards me, so fast it was a blur. It was too late. I’d been too slow and his hand connected against my shoulder, not hard enough to throw me off my feet, but hard enough to sting.

  Making a sound of frustration in my throat, I prepared for his next strike and managed to block it with my forearm, though there would be a bruise there in the morning.

  “Good,” he praised. “Again.”

  It was dark already. My day—which had started in the pyroki enclosure—had been long. I was exhausted and aching and hungry…but I felt strangely calm. The exercises Arokan had made me run through made me focus, made all other thoughts and worries drift from my mind until I was centered on nothing but him. My opponent. My husband.

  Though we’d been training since before the sun set, he hadn’t given me a blade or a sword or even a small dagger. No weapons, he’d told me, until I strengthened my body, until my muscles reacted instinctively, until I would know how to use them.

  So, I got into position again, trying to ignore the warriors and any passing members of the horde that had gathered to watch. I even saw Lavi watching, with her warrior, though I’d dismissed her before I’d finished in the pyroki enclosure.

  When Arokan ran through the set again, I didn’t block a single one, though I’d managed to shuffle away and pivot on the last strike.

  “You grow weak,” he commented and I hated that he didn’t sound out of breath at all, while I was dragging air into my lungs like it was water and I was dehydrated. “Your movements grow loose. We are done for tonight.”

  “One more,” I said, hating that word. Weak. Pulling in a long pull of air, I exhaled slowly, looking at him. “Just one more.”