Broken by the Horde King (Horde Kings of Dakkar #4) - Zoey Draven Page 0,58
many females had known its softness and warmth before I pushed the thought away, especially when it made my stomach sour.
And in front of the bed, in front of me, near the middle of the tent was a low table, laden with platters of food. It was there that Kiran was sitting. Eating. His gaze had flicked up to me when I’d entered and now he was watching me with those golden, knowing eyes.
He’d bathed, I noticed. The tips of his dark hair were wet, stray droplets of water trailing down his bare, wide, scarred chest. His legs were bare as well, though he was wearing a fur loincloth that covered his lower region.
I swallowed, flicking my gaze away from that part of him.
The expanse of his golden flesh was on full display, however, luminous and difficult not to appreciate. Slabs of muscles shifted, muscles that humans didn’t even possess, when he leaned forward, beckoning me closer, watching me from his place on the floor, seated on a cushion.
With such a large voliki, I would have thought it would make Kiran seem smaller. But I’d have been sorely mistaken. The voliki seemed smaller with him in it, not the other way around. His mere presence was…commanding.
The fire in the basin sparked and I nearly jumped out of my skin.
Thankfully, Kiran didn’t comment on it and instead asked, “Have you eaten?”
“Lysi,” I replied, coming forward though he hadn’t given me permission. The sooner I finished unstitching his wound, the sooner I could return to my own voliki. The sooner I could get away from him and his warm flesh and the quiet press of the air around us, making it difficult to breathe.
Kiran caught my wrist when I attempted to slide past him. The shocking warmth of his palm momentarily fizzled any thought from my mind, giving him time to pull me down next to him, so close that my knee brushed the fur of the cloth covering his cock.
I stiffened, beginning to pull away, but Kiran held me.
“Sit with me a while, seffi,” he murmured. I’d have said his tone was soft but Kiran’s voice was too deep and raspy to be anything but commanding.
I licked my lips, my shoulders sagging when I realized I wouldn’t be able to escape quickly. But I wouldn’t let him intimidate me either. If he wanted me to stay, fine. But I would make certain he knew it was an inconvenience.
“Will you look at me?”
I set my jaw. Mentally preparing myself for our next battle.
“Seffi.”
I bit my tongue and then leveled my gaze on him.
“I am looking at you,” I remarked.
On the table, I saw his hand clench. Something dimmed in his gaze and he shook his head. Frustrated?
“Not like you used to,” he commented, the words heavy, choking the air around us.
Suddenly, I realized how tired he looked.
How exhausted.
And I felt it then.
A little thread of worry slid like a worm through my belly, uncomfortable and unwanted…but there.
Kiran scrubbed a hand over his face, over the lines that pulled around his constant scowl, that never used to be there. If anything, the lines had been there before because he’d smiled and laughed too much.
“Have you been sleeping?” I couldn’t help but ask. I told myself it was the healer in me. Sleep was important, especially when the body was recovering from a wound.
“Some,” he replied.
“You need to rest more, Vorakkar,” I said. “Your wound will not—”
“I do not want to fight tonight, seffi. Lysi?” came that tired voice.
Swallowing whatever words had been perched on my tongue, I grew quiet. In my lap, I fidgeted with the strap of my satchel that contained my supplies.
When the silence stretched too long, I murmured, “I should check your back.”
“Nik, not yet,” he grunted. “I just want to look at you right now.”
I frowned and then stilled when his hand bridged the gap between us. We were already sitting close to one another, so he only had to lift his hand before I felt his hot palm clasp my cheek. His hands were so big that his fingers threaded through my hair as his thumb brushed the tip of my nose.
“Your face is as familiar to me as my own,” he murmured. “Isn’t that strange?”
Not really. I could draw Kiran’s face from memory, at least the face he’d had nine years ago. His features had sharpened over the years, his jaw widening, a few new scars covering his flesh.