like silk in my grip as I tugged her head back, exposing her throat, and I glared down into her widened eyes. Her throat bobbed with her swallow, her lips parted, a red mark from my teeth adorning her delicate flesh.
Like this, the sight of her almost made me come in my trews, especially when I saw her tightened nipples pressing into the hide of her tunic.
“Vok,” I cursed. Potent anger, mind-numbing desire, and that familiar hatred that swarmed my veins when I saw her hesitance rode me hard. I lashed out with, “You would whore yourself to a Vorakkar for this Ghertun king?”
She flinched and something faded from her eyes.
“I—” she started, her nostrils flaring.
I held her in an uncomfortable position, her back arched slightly, her chest straining towards me, the column of her neck exposed. She was vulnerable, completely at my mercy. And she knew it.
“I would do whatever it takes,” she whispered, suddenly as furious with me as I was with her.
She held my gaze as she spoke the words.
My jaw clenched. Then I asked her the one question that had been on my mind since she delivered her message.
“Why did he choose you?”
Why would a Ghertun king send a weak, malnourished, fearful little thing like her from the Dead Lands with an insurmountable task of infiltrating Dothik and delivering a message to the Dothikkar?
Before she could answer—not that she would, I knew—a fist slammed hard on the door of the room and it didn’t stop.
After a moment, the telltale sign of the lock being crushed vibrated the wood. And a moment later, a furious Vorakkar stepped through, his sword drawn. My sword was on the opposite end of the room and I cursed my own lack of foresight.
Rath Kitala leveled his blade at me and growled, “Release her now, Rath Drokka.”
My only response was a grin I didn’t feel.
Chapter Seven
Dizziness made me want to squeeze my eyes shut—but when I did, it only made the sensation worse. The only thing keeping me from toppling over was his possessive hold, which only tightened when the other Vorakkar came rushing inside the overheated room.
“Leave us,” the horde king beneath me drawled almost lazily, a grin on his features as he taunted the other male. “Can you not see we are busy?”
I sucked in a breath when he leaned forward and brushed his lips across the bite he’d given me. As he did, his eyes never left the other Vorakkar, the one who’d given me his furs when I’d been naked in the washing tub.
That spot on my neck tingled.
The other male was furious. I heard it in his tone when he rasped from the doorway, “They call you the Mad Horde King for good reason and now I finally understand why.”
Mad Horde King? I thought, my mind flashing to the darkness I’d felt swirling within him, the remnants of unfathomable agony.
Yes, I could believe the Dakkari called him that.
I felt the way the male underneath me stiffened, though that smirk never slid from his face. Did he not like to be called that? Did it insult him? Hurt him?
Then his eyes refocused on me and up close, I saw inky strands of black threading through the red of his irises. He leaned forward, his lips brushing my ear as he said, “Maybe I will take your tempting offer, leikavi.”
Before I could react, he released me, standing up and sliding me down onto the cushion.
He would help me?
Is that what he meant?
But for a price...
I knew exactly what he wanted, what he expected if he helped me.
I shivered, sitting sprawled in the hide tunic he’d given me, one that reached my knees.
“Finish eating, kalles,” he ordered, every bit the male who expected to be obeyed. Then his gaze trailed to the other Vorakkar, who still held his sword outstretched between them. “Then sleep. I will return later.”
Though I’d been exhausted before, I wasn’t tired now. Not in the least. Stepping past the other Vorakkar, he snagged his sword from its resting place next to the chest and stepped from the room.
As for the other male, the one who’d given me the furs, he seemed to trust the Mad Horde King enough to show him his back as he asked me, “Are you…injured, kalles?”
Injured?
I frowned but then lowered my head, looking down into my lap. “No.”
I sensed that the male hesitated. Only for a moment. Then I heard the whispering of a blade as he sheathed his sword and then