by Zoey Draven
Last night, I’d found my face against his side, my lips brushing the hard edge of his pectoral muscle. I’d felt his heartbeat against my cheek—steady and strong and sure, everything he was—and I’d lain there longer than I would admit to myself, listening to it, imagining a life that I didn’t have as I smelled his skin before I pulled away. I could understand the appeal of bed partners and that knowledge made me uncomfortable.
“What’s east?” I asked, picking at a chunk of meat.
“The Dead Lands,” was what he replied, his eyes on his blade.
I frowned. “I’ve never heard of them. What’s there? What happened last year?”
He met my gaze then, his lips slightly quirked at the corners, and I knew what would come before he said, “More questions? You know our arrangement.”
Pressing my lips together in annoyance, I returned, “So the Dead Lands must be important. If you don’t want me to know the answers, you always bargain with me for them.”
Ever since the night in the training grounds, he’d been doing it. If I asked simple questions, safe questions, about horde life or what a word meant in his language, he would answer me easily and without hesitation. But for other questions, about his scars or about whether he’d been raised in Dothik—which I assumed he was, considering he spoke the universal tongue—he threatened me with more time as his alukkiri, whatever that meant.
“And I know what you’re doing,” I continued. “You bait me with the Dead Lands, knowing I need to know more, and then you won’t tell me anything. It’s simply cruel.”
“You gave me the title of demon king, yet you are surprised when I act like one, thissie?” he returned.
“Fine,” I said. “Will you at least tell me of Drukkar?”
He set his sword to the side, giving me the full weight of his stare, and suddenly, I wished I could take the words back. Whenever he looked at me this way, I felt pinned in place, wanting to move, but also wanting to stay completely still.
“The only thing you need to know about Drukkar is that he will punish any who threaten or harm Kakkari,” he said, his voice low and soft, “in any way.”
“Why?”
“Because he loves her,” he replied simply. My chest jolted at the word, longing shooting through me with a sharpness that stole my breath. “He is bound to protect her at any cost and to seek vengeance on those that wrong her.”
“As are you,” I reminded him softly, knowing that it was his duty to punish those that harmed Kakkari, who embodied the earth, who embodied life itself for the Dakkari. Whispers had recently come to our village that another human settlement had set fire to their land…and that the nearest Dakkari horde had gone to execute the one responsible.
“The Vorakkar are extensions of him, lysi,” he said, but his voice held something strange I couldn’t place.
“And is that what you did, or one of the other Vorakkar? Did you punish those that wronged Kakkari in the Dead Lands last year?” I probed. “Or was Drukkar still not satisfied and that was why the winds came so strongly?”
He knew what I was doing and he stood, his hands going to the tied leather belt that held his fur pelt in place over his groin. I held his eyes, not about to be frightened into submission as his pelt dropped to the rug and he was standing nude in front of me.
I could see his cock at the bottom of my vision, though I kept my eyes glued on his. It was large and seeing how it was almost fully erect—a state I’d grown so used to the past few nights that I wondered if all Dakkari males were like this—it made it near impossible to miss.
However, unlike other nights before, my eyes dipped, seemingly on their own because surely, I would never look intentionally. My eyes widened when I saw the thin golden markings, similar to the tattoos covering his flesh, around the thick base and head of his cock, glimmering in the low light.
The astonished words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. “Surely those aren’t your Vorakkar oath as well.”
He made a sound in the back of his throat—low and deep and amused—even as his cock twitched. My head swam, my face heated, and I jerked my gaze away, that strange sensation of warmth prickling my skin again.
“Nik,” he rumbled, walking around me, his bare thigh brushing my shoulder. “They are my oath to my future Morakkari.”
I stared across the domed tent at the bed of furs, hearing the demon king enter his bath. I waited for his small groan and when I heard it, my lips parted and my breath hitched in response.
His Morakkari. His queen. His wife, he’d told me.
“Why is it that you haven’t taken a Morakkari yet?” I asked next, itching to know exactly what the oath said, yet too cowardly to ask that question. Something told me he would tell me, too, if only to watch the tapping on my wrist increase in rhythm.
“Would you like to add another week, rei alukkiri?” he replied, his tone almost lazy, and I knew it was another answer he didn’t want me to know.
When I was certain he was safely cocooned in his bathing tub, with only his broad shoulders and the top of his chest visible, I turned to regard him.
“Is it required that you take one?” I asked, squeezing my fist together when my fingers started twitching. “Perhaps there is a time limit for that sort of thing once you become Vorakkar.”
“A time limit?” he repeated slowly, his lips quirking again into that maddening smirk.
The ends of his hair darkened into brushed gold as it pooled in the water. Disappointed, I licked my lips and asked him quietly, “Will you answer none of my questions tonight?”
Something in his face softened, but I thought that surely it was just a trick of the light.
“Come here and I will answer your question, thissie,” he murmured, looking over at me from the edge of the bathing tub.
For a moment, I stayed completely and utterly still. His voice was deep and quiet, but somehow, both panic and calmness infused my veins at his command.
That was when I knew he was truly a paranormal entity—a demon or a god, I couldn’t be certain—because right then, with that voice, with those eyes, I thought that surely he could make me do anything he wished.
Curious, though my hands trembled and a shiver raced down my spine, I drew closer. With a heavy gaze, he watched me inch over to him. Only when I was kneeling next to the bathing tub, when I was within arm’s reach, did he say, “It is not a requirement to take a Morakkari, but no Vorakkar has led a successful horde without one for very long.”
“Why is that?” I asked, my voice edging towards a whisper, my gaze rapt on his own. Though the winds outside the domed tent had picked up in intensity, I still felt the need to whisper.
“A horde is only as strong as its Vorakkar,” he told me. “And a Vorakkar is only as strong as his Morakkari.”
Lips parting, I heard the truth of it in the reverence of his voice. His grey eyes bore into mine and I sensed him shifting closer towards me.
“So why is it that you haven’t taken one yet?” I asked. “If she would make you stronger?”
“Because there is much I wish to accomplish as Vorakkar. I have great plans for this horde, for myself. And when I take my wife, I want to be certain.”
“Of what?”
His jaw set and I watched his throat bob as he swallowed. “That she will have the strength, the determination, and the will to stand with me, at my side, to see those plans through, no matter the cost.”
He was weaving a thick spell around me, pulling me in deeper and deeper. His voice threaded down my throat, into my chest, looping around my ribs, until it tangled in my belly, filling it, warming it.
“Stop,” I whispered, my brows furrowing, my voice clogged in fear. “Please.”
He knew what he was doing. I saw it in his eyes, but I also saw his lips set in a firm line.
I heard the trickle of water as he lifted his hand. My eyes closed briefly when the roughened pads of his fingertips made contact with my cheek. His hand was warm from the water
and his actions held no hesitation or doubt as he traced my face.
Eyes opening, I felt the tip of his claw brush my bottom lip and I sucked in a small breath, the sensation startling, goosebumps breaking out over my flesh.
“You do not have to fear me, thissie,” he murmured softly.
“I still think I should,” I said back. Because whatever he was stirring within me, whether they had been dormant or nonexistent before, were certainly fearsome things.
He pulled his hand away and rested it on the edge of the bathing tub. I stared at it like it was a lethal weapon, even though I felt warm from his surprisingly gentle touch.
Just then a loud, violent, echoing crash sounded from somewhere in the encampment and I let out a startled squeak. My heart stuttered and the demon king cursed, jumping from the bathing tub with lightning quickness.
Worry clogged my throat when I heard cries of alarm follow the crash and the horde king was already dressing, though he was soaking wet.
“I can help,” I said, trying to calm my racing heart, already reaching for my boots at the end of the bed.
“Nik,” he growled, hastily securing the heavy pelt of fur over his wide shoulders. “Stay here. Stay warm.”
He was storming from the tent before I could get another word in and the chilling wind that blew inside after his departure made my bones freeze.
Still, I heard the echoing shouts from outside. They sounded like they were coming from the front of the encampment and I didn’t want to sit around and wait if help was needed.
Mind made up, I disregarded the demon king’s order and snagged his spare pelt quickly, looping it around my shoulders, though it dwarfed my small frame and my muscles grew tired under its weight.
Without a second thought, I ducked through the entrance of the tent, straight into the beginning of the cold season, straight into Drukkar’s wrath.
Chapter Thirteen
“What happened?” I growled, intercepting a warrior who was racing towards my voliki.
“A portion of the fence failed,” he shouted over the wind. “It collapsed inwards on three volikis.”
My lips pressed together. “How many were injured?”
“Two warriors,” he said, keeping up with my rapid pace as I raced my way through the camp. “But they are not fatally wounded. The healer is with them now.”
Relief only made my pace quicken, but grim realization swiftly took its place once I reached the front of the camp and saw the extent of the damage.
It was chaos. Freezing rain had begun to fall and it pricked my exposed flesh before turning to ice on the ground. Through the rain, I saw five posts of the towering fence had fallen, just as the warrior had said. Three of the voliki were crushed in, the hides soaked from the rain, the wood splintered into fragments.
The wind was fiercer there, now that there was no protection from that portion of the fence. Funneling inside, it whipped its way through the front of the camp and I heard shouts from warriors, from families, from females and children, as they tried to keep the protective layer of hide from tearing off their homes. Without it, the wind would tear through the volikis like they were made of parchment.
I saw Vodan across the way as more of the horde rushed from their homes, roused by the commotion.
Over the wind, I shouted, “Keep the hides tied down! Get these posts up and brace them!”
I joined the group of warriors hefting up the heavy posts. They would need to be placed back one at a time, given their weight and the ferocity of Drukkar’s winds.
I met Vodan’s eyes across the clearing and I bellowed, “Get the steel braces from the reserves!”
He inclined his head and ordered a group of warriors to follow him as we lifted and fought to reposition one of the posts. By the time Vodan returned, we had it in place so the other group could hammer the heavy steel braces into the remaining post at its side and secure another brace behind the post to give it strength against the winds.
We worked methodically through the freezing rain, our muscles shaking from the cold and the strain.
After the second post was secured, I looked behind me at the horde and saw groups at the affected volikis, struggling to keep the hides tied down.
For a moment, my stomach dropped because I spied Nelle among them. Despite my orders for her to stay inside, she was gripping one of the ropes in her small hands, leaning back as she fought to keep it from lifting. Two warriors and another female were securing the same voliki, and even from that distance, I saw her strain and fight to keep the rope in her grip.
A growl rose in my chest when I saw the end of the rope whip across her cheek, her face jerking to the side…but she never let go.
“Vorakkar,” Vodan shouted through the rain. When I looked at him, I saw they were ready with the third brace and I forced myself to look away from Nelle, refocusing my attention on the task at hand. The sooner we repaired the fence and stabilized it, the sooner we would all be out of immediate danger.
It took us a chunk of the night to repair the damage. I ordered every last fence post to be braced so none of the others were in danger of falling, depleting our stores of spare steel. I would need more delivered from Dothik or from one of the outposts after the cold season.
Throughout it all, I saw Nelle a handful of times when I turned to look for her. Always, she was helping the horde, helping with the volikis, though I saw the strain it put on her.
When the half moon was beginning to sink in the sky, once I was satisfied that the fence would last through a dozen cold seasons, once I was certain that no more homes were in danger from the winds, I went to look for Nelle.
When I found her, she was next to a young warrior named Odrii and a barrel fire, which barely flickered with flame. The warrior wore a worried expression on his face, which made my pace quicken.
“What is it, thissie?” I rasped when I reached her.
In the low light of the fire, I cursed when I saw she was pale and shivering violently. When I touched her cheek, it felt colder than the rain. It was then I noticed that she was soaked through to the bone. Even my furs around her shoulders did little to keep her warm.
“Vok,” I growled. Turning to the warrior, I bit out, “Bring hot water to my voliki immediately.”
“Lysi, Vorakkar,” the warrior replied and rushed off.
I scooped Nelle up, ignoring the stares of the horde members I passed, and raced to my voliki. Once we were inside, I drew her over to the fire, which still burned, and threw on more fuel, growing it until it roared and flickered in its gold basin. In the light, I saw her skin looked a little blue, her veins more noticeable under her translucent flesh.
She hadn’t spoken and that was enough to make me worry.
“I told you to stay inside, thissie,” I murmured, ripping my furs from her shoulders. Her clothes were dripping on the rugs and though my own were soaked through, Dakkari could withstand colder temperatures. Humans, apparently, could not.
A violent shiver racked her body just as the young warrior ducked his way inside the tent, followed by another, each carrying bucketfuls of steaming hot water from the common bathing voliki.
Once they filled the bath to the brim, replacing the cold water from earlier, they left, though Odrii threw a worried glance at Nelle on his way out.
Quickly, I stripped her of her clothes, throwing them near the fire, and steam curled off them.
“What is this?” I rasped down to her, still worried that she hadn’t spoken. “You will not fight me when I undress you, kalles?”
When she was naked, I scooped her up again and she hissed when my wet clothes touched her bare flesh.
“I am sorry, thissie,” I murmured to her, slipping her into the hot bath.
A startled cry escaped her and I gritted my teeth, knowing the hot water was probably painful against her freezing flesh.
“It will pass,” I tried to soothe, kneeling next to the bath. “It will pass, kalles.”
Her eyes were dil
ated when they met mine. I dipped my hands into the water, warming them so they wouldn’t startle her, and I ordered, “Dunk your head under.”
She was still shivering, but did as I said. I helped her resurface as she sputtered.
I rose and went over to one of my chests, pulling fermented wine from my stores. I brought it over to her in a goblet and had her sip it.
“This will help warm you from the inside,” I told her, having her take another sip, though a rattling cough rose from her chest after the first.
Another shiver ran down her spine and finally she spoke, through pale lips, “I c-can’t get w-warm.”
My jaw clenched. “Just give it time, rei thissie.”
There was a harsh mark across her right cheek and I knew it was from the rope. I remembered the way she’d fought to keep the hides tied down and my chest squeezed with a familiar sensation, the same one I’d felt when I saw Kakkari’s light in her eyes.
“You were brave tonight, Nelle,” I murmured, my voice low, as I skimmed the backs of my fingers over the mark. “Thank you for helping.”
She blinked at my words, her pale lips parting. Outside, Drukkar’s winds still raged and for a brief, startling moment, I was furious with him. For putting my horde in danger, for putting Nelle in danger. For injuring two of my warriors.
Let it go, I ordered myself, like all fierce emotion I experienced. I didn’t let myself feel it for too long. I couldn’t.
A drip of water ran down my arm from the furs around my shoulders, into her bath, and I was reminded that I was still soaked.
After I gave Nelle another sip of the fermented drink, I rose and went closer to the fire, undressing quickly to warm up. I stood there, nude, for a brief moment, feeling the heat flicker across my skin. But it didn’t take long for my body to return to its normal state, even as my thissie continued to shiver in the hot bath.
When I returned to her, she had dragged her knees up to her chest and hugged her arms around them, folding in on herself in an attempt to get warmer.