Madness of the Horde King - Zoey Draven Page 0,121

her. “Vok!”

“It is a plant the Ghertun use to control their slaves,” the Killup said.

“A plant?” Rath Kitala asked, incredulous.

“A poison,” the Killup corrected, eyeing the other Vorakkar curiously, cocking his head to the side. When he saw the Vorakkar still had a hand on his sword, the Killup’s lips pressed together but he didn’t say anything about it.

“How do you know about this?” I rasped.

“Some time ago, one of our own escaped from the Dead Mountain, one that had been taken by the Ghertun, and returned to us,” the Killup said. “The first two weeks, they were well. Healthy. Relieved to be home, among their own.”

I counted the weeks in my head but the days blurred together. Vok, how long had it been since I’d been in Dothik? Since I’d first stumbled upon her late that one night?

“Then they started getting tired. Cold. The blood began to darken in their veins. Then came the pain. For many, many days.”

When I connected eyes with the Killup, I saw within him what I feared.

“How long does she have?” I grated.

“Without a dose?” the Killup asked. “At this stage, a few days. Maybe four. Then again, that is what happened to a Killup. She is human. It may be different.”

“How long have you known about this?” I growled, glaring at the Killup as Hedna subtly shifted between us. “You didn’t think to tell us about the vovic before this?”

My rage was misplaced. Even I knew that but it felt good coursing through me. An old friend.

The Killup never even blinked. With a calmness that I knew I would never possess, he pointed out, “Killup and Dakkari are not allies.” His gaze shifted to the Vorakkar of Rath Kitala briefly. “Nor are we enemies. We have an arrangement, one befitting both of us. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

“We have a common enemy,” Rath Kitala reminded him, his tone gruff.

“That is true,” the Killup amended, tilting his chin down. “Which is why I am here.”

That was when I remembered. Our agreement. The one I’d made with him in that dark forest after they’d ambushed Vienne and me on my return to the horde from Dothik.

The Killup had their own poison. One that paralyzed the Ghertun the moment it entered their bloodstream and prevented their wounds from clotting. The Killup had used it on me after all, though I’d responded to it differently than a Ghertun would.

The Killup sought a new home, far from the eastlands. In exchange for passage and protection, they would supply us with this poison to help in fighting the Ghertun if and when war came between us.

“If you have a poison that affects the Ghertun, perhaps you have a cure for this,” I rasped. “Or know of one.”

The Killup’s gaze flickered to my female. He’d been curious about her in the forest that night. It was perhaps why he’d called off his warriors…because of her.

“If we had a cure, we would have used it to save our own,” he said quietly. For the first time, I heard an emotion enter into his voice. Regret? “She died.”

My throat closed up, my nostrils flaring.

“What do you want from me?” I asked quietly. I saw Rath Kitala’s gaze cut to mine in surprise, a frown turning down his lips as he studied me. “I will give anything to save her.”

Rath Kitala stilled as the Killup’s head cocked and he regarded me carefully.

“You want my advice, Dakkari?” the Killup asked softly, stepping towards me. Dropping his voice, he murmured, “End her suffering now before it becomes too great.”

Rage whipped inside me like a lash across my insides. I’d been whipped and tortured and used before but I would gladly experience those things again if it meant never hearing those words from the Killup again.

“Step away from me before I kill you where you stand,” I hissed.

The Killup did as I asked, the tension spiking high in my voliki.

“The female who escaped the Dead Mountain,” the Killup said, “was my mate, Dakkari. I watched her die a painful death because I was too much of a coward to give her mercy. I could have eased her suffering,” his voice changed, going gruffer, his gills flaring, “had I been stronger.”

I stilled.

Everyone in the voliki did.

“We have something to ease her pain,” the Killup said after a long moment, his face unreadable once more, his voice evening out. “But there is only so much pain it can mask.”

I met his eyes.

I inclined my head.

“Thank you,” I rasped.

“If you

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