Broken by the Horde King (Horde Kings of Dakkar #4) - Zoey Draven Page 0,35
the position of mokkira in his horde for the frost, that I would be leaving for many moon cycles, he’d been close to tears again.
It had shaken me. My father and I had always been close. It had been him that had found me in a wooded area of the wild lands, after all, when he’d been out hunting with his party. He’d heard me crying from the forest’s edge and he’d tracked me. He always told me it had been Kakkari that had led us to one another.
To know that my decision hurt him, to know that he would be alone in the soliki he had built with my mother, almost made me reject Kiran’s offer. I had told my father so, that if he wanted me to stay, I would.
A few nights ago, however, he had told me he wanted me to go.
He told me that it wasn’t for long.
That it would give me the opportunity to learn as mokkira, a title that would never be mine in the saruk.
That he was proud to call me his daughter and that Kiran’s horde would be lucky to have me, if only through the frost.
It had been all the blessing I’d needed.
Which was how I found myself on the back of Roon, coming to the realization that nothing about the wild lands was familiar, and that I already missed my father, Laru, Rasik, Nevir, and Drukkar’s Sea desperately.
“What are you thinking of?” Kiran suddenly murmured behind me. “I can almost hear your mind turning.”
Kiran perhaps understood the sadness that washed over me. For he had loved the saruk and the sea when we were younger. Before he’d left for his training in Dothik, he’d confided in me how much he hurt at the mere prospect of leaving.
“Does it ever get any easier?” I asked softly, hearing the gentle plod of pyroki hooves over the earth from his darukkars behind us. “Being away from home?”
Kiran straightened.
“Don’t you ever miss it so badly that your whole body aches?” I asked next.
In that brief moment, I needed to hear that leaving had hurt him as badly as it’d hurt me. I didn’t know why. Maybe I needed some sort of recognition. Perhaps I needed to hear a little bit of regret. That it had been hard for him to turn his back on our friendship, regardless of the fact that he’d rejected me romantically.
Because our friendship had still been real, hadn’t it?
Kiran didn’t answer for a long time.
Finally, he grunted, “My horde is my home.”
Something hardened further in my chest.
I nodded but it was almost to myself. The throbbing of hurt that I felt at his words surprised me. I thought that by now I would have long been indifferent to him. I thought that by now he wouldn’t be able to hurt me anymore.
Perhaps it was proof that Kiran of Rath Okkili would always have the power to hurt me, no matter how much I tried to forget him.
I drew in a long inhale.
I looked out across the runiri-covered field. A forest was far in the distance, to the north. Beyond that, I could see the shadowy peaks of mountain ranges but they looked weeks away.
I can do this, I realized, a jolt going through me, followed by a sense of peace.
Just as I told Laru, Kiran only had the power to hurt me if I let him.
I liked to think I had thicker skin than I’d had back then. And I knew that I’d matured. I’d grown up, moved on.
I knew I could be civil with Kiran—I would have to be, considering he was a Vorakkar and I would be a member of his horde. I didn’t have to let old pain settle deeper into my bones. I didn’t want that.
I just wanted peace.
But I would never be able to have it unless I looked beyond our past.
Could I?
Could I look at Kiran in a different way? Could I see him for the Dakkari horde king he was now—and not as the boy I’d fallen in love with, who had broken my heart not once…but twice?
I will need to, I realized.
A stronger breeze was starting to blow across the southern plains. They quickened the lower the sun drooped in the sky. It was a beautiful sunset with swirls of purple and gold. The light made the runiri stalks shimmer as they swayed.
Just then I thought I felt the earth tremble.
A moment later, I knew it wasn’t my own imaginings because Roon’s