“I was not asking,” he informed me gruffly, obviously annoyed, and it took everything in me not to break his gaze. If I ever questioned the Ghertun sibi I’d been assigned to serve, they would ensure my punishment so that it never happened again. I was tempted by those instincts to cower, to submit.
I was seated across the back of his pyroki already, looking down at him. The smallest of movements reminded me how uncomfortable the pain was. While the uudun salve had helped through the night, my skin hadn’t magically healed—it was still raw and red, though the salve had helped numb the area—and my muscles were still aching. Screaming, really. Muscles I didn’t even know I had.
The Vorakkar swung himself up onto the back of his pyroki after ensuring we left nothing behind. I almost winced when he settled his weight behind me, my thighs rubbing across the merciless hardened scales of the beast below us.
“We have two full days until we reach my horde,” he rasped, lifting me as if I weighed nothing. “You cannot last another day if you continue like this.”
Then he promptly placed me across his lap. His left arm braced my back, my buttocks were cradled by his groin, and my legs were draped across his right thigh, my booted feet dangling in the air, occasionally thudding against his pyroki’s side.
“Vir drak,” he ordered his pyroki and we darted into motion again, though the pace was slower. The Vorakkar realized this too and said, “Perhaps even three days.”
My lips pressed together. I held myself tensed and tight. My arm was squished against the broad muscles of his chest and I could feel them shifting with every rocking movement of the pyroki’s trot.
“The faster the better,” I said. “We don’t have to take it slow for my sake.”
He grunted, studying me. That was when I realized how close our faces were. Again, I could see those inky black tendrils shooting through the red of his eyes. I could see the puckered skin of his scar up close and for the first time, I wondered how he’d received it. It looked very deep, very old.
There was another scar I hadn’t noticed before on the opposite side of his face. His bronzed skin made it gleam golden near his strong jawline.
I realized, with a start, that he was strangely handsome—in a dark, cutting way. Looking at him was equally pleasing and terribly frightening.
I turned my head to regard the open plains in front of us, if only to break his gaze for a moment.
“Looking a Vorakkar in the eyes is a sign of disrespect, you know,” he told me, his tone sharp.
I froze, tensing even further in his lap. “I—I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.”
Yet, he’d let me look at him multiple times before this and said nothing? I didn’t understand him.
“The Ghertun did not teach you that?” he questioned. “Though they taught you some of our language? Though you know to fear a Vorakkar, as you should?”
“They didn’t teach me to fear a horde king,” I told him. “I’d already learned that for myself.”
The muscles in his arm tightened across my back. “Lysi? How did you learn that?”
I didn’t respond.
He let his question slide.
“What else did the Ghertun teach you?” he wondered, his tone softening.
I sensed him loosen the reins and the pyroki’s pace sped. Suddenly, I realized I was thankful. I felt pain from my thighs and buttocks, but not nearly as much as I would have had I been riding the way I’d been yesterday. And this way prevented further injury as I healed, though the position made me extremely uncomfortable.
Inhaling sharply, I felt him turn my face, though I kept my gaze on the wide, strong column of his throat. His neck was probably bigger than my thighs, I mused.
“Look at me, leikavi,” he commanded.
Surprisingly, a flare of annoyance shot through me and my gaze shot to his, narrowing.
“You cannot berate me for looking you in the eyes and then order me to in the next moment,” I said. The words felt good tumbling from my lips, though I didn’t know how he’d react to my insolence. “You choose one or you choose the other, horde king. So tell me what you prefer.”
What I didn’t expect was for him to laugh. It was a booming, loud laugh that seemed to echo across the wide, quiet plains. It was still early morning, the sun was still