Broken by the Horde King (Horde Kings of Dakkar #4) - Zoey Draven Page 0,139

me he felt the same.

“The priestesses must come,” I said quietly. “Or else I fear we are all in danger.”

Chapter Forty-Seven

The week that passed since Kiran’s departure was long and excruciatingly slow.

It was the early weeks of the frost, which hadn’t yet thickened and hardened across Dakkar. Soon, however, it would be so frigid that merely walking from the warm safety of one voliki to another would become a daily chore. Dakkari seemed more immune to the cold than humans, something I’d always been jealous of, especially since the frost had always kept me inside, away from my runs, away from the fresh air.

In Kiran’s absence, I filled my days in the mokkira’s voliki with Essir and Hinna—and, more often than not, Gabe. Twice a day, I checked in on Addie and the baby to ensure that she had not begun bleeding again, though the adiri seemed to do its job perfectly.

A week out from her labor, I was confident that her recovery would be smooth, something I thanked Kakkari for every single day.

It didn’t stop the nightmares, however. The terrible thoughts that somehow wiggled into my mind as I slept of a reality where Addie had died beneath my hands, of a reality where her baby would grow up without a mother, just as she had.

The relief when I woke, gasping for air, was so profound that it almost brought me to tears. The dreams seemed to be tapering off, however. And I knew that if Kiran slept beside me, they would be more manageable. But there was no indication of his return, no thespers from the hordes of the east, and no sign of Roon bringing his master home.

“This is very good,” I praised quietly, studying the pova potion that Essir had made in its entirety, tilting the small, dark bottle towards the light of the fire. The contents were thick but silky. There were no lingering remnants of pova root. The way the potion clung to the sides of the bottle before sliding down was a good indication that Essir had properly boiled, simmered, and thickened the mixture. “Excellent.”

Essir flushed with my praise. My apprentice might not have been confident enough to suture wounds—or deliver offspring—quite yet but he had a natural talent for potions and medicines. The former would come with time and experience.

Gabe was helping Hinna wash and dry cloths on the far workbench. I saw the way Gabe smiled at the Dakkari female, reaching out to touch her arm, murmuring something low that no one but they could hear.

In the last week, Essir had seemed resigned to the fact that Hinna would never see him as more than a friend. He’d listened as Hinna giggled at Gabe’s jokes and watched when she helped Gabe brush lingering frost from his hair whenever they came in from the outside, letting her touch linger. Her eyes glowed whenever she looked at him.

I’d asked Essir earlier if Gabe’s presence was a distraction. If he would rather that I send him away. Because he was my apprentice, not Gabe, and his well-being was important to me. Though Gabe had been a great help around the voliki now that he had retired from the crops for the frost, if Essir asked it of me, I would send him away to another task without question, though it would no doubt disappoint Hinna.

But Essir had told me quietly that he was thankful Gabe helped Hinna, thankful he helped us all. He asked me not to send him away, though he gave no further explanation. I didn’t bring it up again.

“We will need a healthy stock of pova through the frost. Especially once hunting season begins again,” I told Essir, handing the bottled potion back to him. “You should start on the next batch. And after the frost, I will teach you how to make a potion for expecting mothers to help with their nausea. We will need much of that, but I need to procure more hakin blooms first. I usually get them from hordes that come down from the north.”

His face drew into an expression of…tentative hope.

“So you mean to stay with the horde after the frost?” he asked quietly.

I stilled, my eyes flashing up to his in surprise.

I hadn’t even realized I’d said that.

Someone ducked under the voliki entrance. It was Kiran’s pujerak, I saw. I frowned when his eyes sharpened on me and he strode forward.

“Mokkira.”

A heavy sheet of ice hung from the tips of the furs around his