by Zoey Draven
I let out a small breath when I cramped and breathed through it. I hadn’t missed this when I’d stopped bleeding, but now I remembered the pain well.
“What is it, thissie?” came his husky, sleep-roughened voice.
“Nothing,” I replied, not daring to meet his eyes. Something had changed last night. A line had been crossed that I couldn’t come back from.
I wanted more. I wanted to run. Whatever happened last night, I had the strange sense that it was only a matter of time…
Before what though?
I didn’t know. Yet time ticked by in my head regardless.
I sensed him shifting in the bed, moving furs. When his hand tilted my face up, his eyes narrowed on me, his features sharpening.
“You are in pain?” he asked, his voice losing its drowsy edge. “Where? I will call the healer.”
Could I hide nothing from him?
“It’s nothing,” I insisted, gritting my teeth. Jana had always told me to hide my bleeding time from men, though I didn’t know why.
He scowled. “Tell me now, Nelle.”
I let out a small, even breath as my cramping peaked again. His voice was sharp, the same tone he used with his warriors, the same tone that was both a warning and a command.
I swallowed and chanced a look at him. When my eyes strayed to his lips—remembering that now I knew the feel of them—I said quietly, “It’s just my bleeding time. It will pass.”
His shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, his muscles shifting under the expanse of his golden skin. I saw him daily, slept next to him during the nights, and somehow I always managed to forget how big he was.
“Why did you not just say?” he rumbled.
“Because…” I whispered. “I’m supposed to hide it.”
“It is natural, kalles,” he murmured. “There is no shame in it.”
I didn’t answer him as another wave of pain came and went. He rose from the bed, going to his cabinet on the far side of the tent. I couldn’t help when my eyes perused his body, glancing over the plethora of dark scars on his back that did nothing to hide the evidence of his strength and physical power.
I watched as he mixed together something in a goblet, filling it with the pitcher of fresh water that was always present in the voliki, before he brought it over to me.
“The kerisa left it here for you, if you felt any pain,” he explained, returning to me. I recognized the black liquid in the goblet and I took it from his hands, sitting up in the bed.
“Thank you,” I said quietly and drank it down. My eyes met his as he took the goblet away and set it beside the bed. I cleared my throat and asked, “My voliki will be ready today?”
His expression didn’t change. “Lysi.”
I nodded. He stood from the bed and began to dress.
The sudden silence between us felt different, charged and thick, and I wasn’t sure I liked it. To fill it, I asked, even as I began to tap on my wrist, “What is it that you do all day?”
“Today, I meet with my pujerak and the elders again,” he told me.
“About what?” I asked, grasping onto my curiosity as more cramping clenched my abdomen.
“I ride for Dothik soon,” he informed me, casting me a glance out of the corner of his eye as he shrugged on a fresh, thick tunic that molded to his flesh.
“What?” I asked, shocked, my fingers stilling. “But…but it’s the cold season. Surely you can’t travel now.”
“Worried for me, thissie?” he rasped, giving me the full weight of his attention.
I stilled under that gaze, pinned.
I licked my dry lips then I was reminded of his own. How they were impossibly soft yet firm, how I’d felt his heat through those lips. How his growl and his groan had reverberated inside me and awakened something fierce and aching.
Clearing my throat, I asked, “Why are you going now?”
“The Dothikkar requests his Vorakkars’ presence in the capitol when the moon is full,” he told me.
That was in less than two weeks’ time. Depending on how far away Dothik was, he would leave within the week.
“Are you taking the warriors with you?”
“Nik,” he said, fastening his pelt over his shoulders. “I go alone.”
I didn’t know what was bubbling up inside me—all I knew was that I didn’t like it. Biting my lip, I told him, “It’s foolish for you to go. It’s dangerous.”
“I will not be gone long,” he told me, studying me closely as he approached. “I will stay in Dothik for as long as I am required to be there and then return.”
Something sharp in his voice made me look more closely at him.
“You do not like Dothik?” I asked.
His eyes narrowed on me.
“But you grew up there, didn’t you?” I questioned, shamelessly trying to pry.
The corner of his lips quirked, but I sensed there was no amusement behind his smile. His expression was fierce, watchful, and dark.
“Do you like where you grew up, kalles?” he threw back, his voice mocking.
I sobered, but didn’t let him deter me. “What’s it like? The capitol?”
“Full of beings who only worship their gold, a stiff drink, and a good fucking,” he replied easily.
“Careful, Seerin,” I murmured, watching him, so strangely fascinated by his words that I didn’t even realize I’d used his name for the first time, “or else I might think that you’re bitter.”
“If you live in Dothik long enough, rei thissie,” he murmured, reaching out to brush my lips with his claws, making my breath hitch and my scalp tingle, “you are nothing but bitter.”
“Then I am glad you left,” I told him, the truth soft in my voice, “and sad you must return.”
His lips quirked again, but this time, I was relieved to see a familiar softness. His fingers left my lips and he pulled away. When he stepped towards the entrance of the tent, my shoulders sagged and my breath left me in a rush, released of his eyes.
It took me a moment to realize my heart was pounding in my chest and my pain seemed lessened.
The demon king ducked his head out, but then paused. He turned to look at me and then ordered, “Come here, kalles.”
Curious, I rose from the bed, feeling blood soak into the cloth between my legs underneath my clothes. I clutched at Blue’s feathers around my neck as I approached him.
He pulled back the flaps of the tent ever so slightly and my eyes widened.
The first frost.
A sprinkling of white shimmered over the land, not yet the blanket of heavy snow and ice that would come later. The air was dry and frigid. Even then, I felt it sting my cheeks.
Another cold season had come, but looking out over the land right then didn’t fill me with as much dread or fear as it had before.
I knew why he was showing me.
A reminder. Of our first wager, the one I’d lost. That with the first frost, my duty as his alukkiri would begin, though I was still uncertain what that meant.
I will find out, I thought.
“I will see you tonight, rei alukkiri,” he purred.
Then he was gone.
Chapter Eighteen
Irritation was making my temple throb as I looked around the voliki, at the three elders, Vodan, and my head warrior.
“The reports from the Dead Lands prove nothing,” I said, keeping my tone even and calm despite the rising heat within my chest. “We all know that during the cold season, the Ghertuns go underground. None are seen for months.”
One of the elders argued, “Which is why our Dothikkar wants to attack soon. We strike them. It is why you are meeting in Dothik, is it not? To formulate a plan of attack?”
“We are meeting in Dothik because of the Dothikkar’s whim,” I replied. “Nothing more.”
Vodan cut me a sharp look. I locked eyes with the elder across the high table we stood around. It had been a long day, a wasted one, because I felt we’d gotten nowhere.
�
�I am not eager to send my warriors to battle during a season where even the elements can kill them,” I told him slowly. “The Dead Lands are two weeks’ ride away, if the frosts do not slow us. It is madness to even attempt.”
“The Dothikkar—”
I cut him off with a growl, “Is not responsible for this horde. I am.”
Silence permeated the tent. My lead warrior, a male named Ujak, shifted on his feet to my left.
“I agree with the Vorakkar,” Ujak said quietly. “We are unprepared for a battle during the cold season. We do not even know where the Ghertun hide underground, where to even attack. They will not resurface for months.”
“And what of the rumors that they tunnel beneath the earth? That they create a network across the planet?” another elder asked. “Kakkari demands retribution for that alone.”
“Those rumors came directly from Dothik,” I said. “Speculation and nothing more. Our scouts, as far as I know, have never gotten close to their stronghold in the Dead Lands, so how would the scouts get underground? It is a rumor to strike fear in the hordes and those in the capitol and that is its sole purpose. I will not sacrifice my warriors for a mere rumor and you are a fool to believe it.”
The elder pressed his lips together but remained quiet. Tension permeated the tent, thick and heavy.
“I am not saying the Ghertun are not a threat,” I started quietly, looking around at my council, “because they are. A terrible threat that has grown with every passing year. But I am certain that the other Vorakkar will agree that the hordes will not attack now. No Vorakkar would agree to that. I go to Dothik with the sole purpose of making the position of Rath Tuviri clear.”
“And if the Dothikkar does not see our way?” Vodan asked quietly, looking at me from across the table.
My fists clenched. Vodan knew as well as I that unrest among the Vorakkar had been rising, unrest directed at the Dothikkar. It could be considered treason, going against the king’s orders.
“We will sway him,” I said, my voice hard.
“As your mother did?” the first elder scoffed. His anger was palpable and I didn’t miss the way every Dakkari in the voliki froze.
“I will ignore that you just said that, terun,” I rasped, my eyes darkening, “because you have been on my council since the beginning. But make no mistake, I will not be disrespected in that way again or else you may join the Dothikkar in Dothik instead of here in my horde. Do you understand?”
The elder held my eyes. He’d always possessed less control than the others. Though we’d disagreed many times, he’d never taken his insults to such a personal level before.
The terun dropped his eyes in respect. “Lysi, Vorakkar. Forgive me.”
“We are done here,” I announced to the council, my jaw ticking. As the council began to file out, I leaned against the high table with both hands, staring down at the letter that had come straight from Dothik through a messenger just two days ago.
I stared at the words scratched out in dark ink. Words that at one time I wouldn’t have been able to read. The letter had brought a report of Ghertun sightings close to Dothik, though I didn’t believe a word of it.
Only Vodan remained once the council left.
“He is an old fool,” Vodan murmured to me, knowing any mention of my mother brought me to the cusp of rage. “Angry that he cannot have his way, like a child.”
“He spoke the truth,” I said, “though he was a fool to say it to my face.”
“The Vorakkar of Rath Kitala will stand with you. Certainly,” Vodan continued. “He has a mate now, a child on the way. He would not welcome war during this time either.”
“That is the problem,” I murmured, looking up at my pujerak. “Would he avoid war because of his own needs? Am I avoiding war because I am weary of it? Vorakkar are always meant to place their horde first, not themselves. Am I doing that?”
“You have doubts?”
I thought of Nelle, of things I wanted and craved, yet held myself back from. “It is hard not to.”
“You are right in this, Seerin,” Vodan rasped. Twice I’d heard my name today. “The Dothikkar is mad to send warriors to the Dead Lands now. You know this. The warriors do too. Just because the elders, who have not wielded a blade in decades, cannot see that does not mean you are wrong.”
I reached out with my fist and crumpled the parchment the messenger had left before tossing it into the fire burning in the basin. The words blackened and hissed as the letter caught fire.
“The cold season is a time for peace,” Vodan said. “Even the Ghertun know that. Once the frost thaws, we can make plans for battle.”
“Lysi.”
We both left the voliki and spoke no more of it that night. It was dark outside, the encampment was quiet. Vodan lived with his mate towards the back of the camp, where my own voliki was, and we wound our way through it in silence.
When we neared my pujerak’s home, Vodan finally broke that silence with, “I saw you with the vekkiri last night.”
I stilled and turned to look at him. Next to a barrel fire, I watched my oldest friend’s face glow yellow.
“In the training grounds,” Vodan added. He met my eyes. “Are we never going to talk about her?”
“I do not want to do this tonight,” I rasped.
“The council has been talking. I thought you should know.”
“Vok,” I cursed, temples still throbbing.
“You assigning her a separate voliki has calmed them somewhat, but it is only a matter of time before they will confront you about her.”
I wondered if Arokan of Rath Kitala had needed to deal with his council in this way when he chose to select a vekkiri as his Morakkari. Or had he simply done it without fear of the elders? As far as I knew, Arokan hadn’t even informed the Dothikkar of his choice of a bride.
“I am not taking her as my Morakkari,” I told Vodan, though the words felt heavy falling from my tongue.
The horde always comes first, I reminded myself.
Arokan could do whatever the vok he pleased. He’d come from a long line of Vorakkars. His father had been one, his mother a Morakkari herself. His blood line was strong, unbroken.
I, on the other hand, could not afford such luxuries. There were those in Dothik still waiting for me, a whore’s bastard son, to fail. I could not show weakness in anything I did.
Vodan’s expression revealed his skepticism at my words, yet he said, “Then choose another and be quick about it.”
He clasped my arm and then disappeared into his own voliki a short distance away. I heard his mate greet him inside and right at that moment, I envied him fiercely.
Inhaling the piercing, icy air, I scrubbed a hand over my face. Then my eyes seemed to find her voliki straight away. Newly constructed, it was small…and it was the closest voliki to my own.
Longing built in my chest. Just the thought of seeing her, of looking into those dark, solemn eyes, eased the tension that had been building throughout the day.
Of their own accord, my feet carried me towards her voliki. I’d had a warrior escort her there earlier in the afternoon, as promised, but hadn’t heard anything since.
I am not taking her as my Morakkari.
Vodan had said, Then find another and be quick about it.
When I reached her voliki, I knew that I should walk past it. I knew that I should go to my furs alone, that I should never kiss her or touch her again, though just the thought made me mourn the great loss. It would make letting her go so much easier, when she’d already clawed her way inside me with her demon eyes.
Leave, I told myself. Go.
Before I could, I saw her. Her head popped out from the voliki’s entrance, peering at me with a frown.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her soft, strange, accented voice like a balm on the stresses and irritations from the council meeting.
That was when I knew I was weak. When it came to her, I was so damn weak. Though the council disapproved, though
Vodan disapproved, though she risked everything I’d built, I didn’t know if I had the strength to stay away from her.
I walked towards the voliki and ducked inside, forcing her back in. She was shivering, though she’d barely been outside for a moment. Within, I saw her small fire was going and it was warm. The whole voliki smelled like her, soft and clean.
There was a small bed of furs in the middle, where it was warmest. She had a low table for her meals, one chest, and a small cabinet. On top of the cabinet, I spied the dagger I’d given her and a shimmering rock next to it.
“It’s lovely, isn’t it?” she asked me, smiling with pleasure as she looked at her voliki, obviously very pleased with her modest home.
My chest throbbed. I wanted to give her everything. I wanted to care for her, to protect her, to shield her from this life.
Yet I couldn’t.
She seemed to notice I hadn’t yet spoken and she peered at me, tilting her head to the side. “What’s wrong, Seerin? You look strange.”
I felt my lips lift of their own accord but instead of answering her, my hands went to my pelt, sliding it off before I pulled my tunic over my head.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked, her eyes going wide.
When I kicked off my boots and my pants shortly followed, I crouched and slid, naked, into her furs. I sighed, her bed plush and comfortable, and the warmth from the fire flickered over my skin.
“Seerin,” she snapped. She was in a long tunic that reached her thighs. Her legs and feet were bare, her hair curling around her shoulders and down her back wildly.
“You can begin your duties as rei alukkiri tomorrow, thissie,” I murmured. “I need sleep.”
“That is what your own bed is for. This is my voliki, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“I like this one just fine,” I rasped. Her expression was baffled and I couldn’t help but say, “As Vorakkar, I can sleep wherever I please within the horde.”
She paused, nibbling on her bottom lip, hesitation playing over her features. “You can?”
My irritation from the meeting slid away in an instant, replaced with amusement and affection for the little thissie, who was slowly driving me to madness.