Madness of the Horde King - Zoey Draven Page 0,5

him, darkening his features, pouring from his flesh.

His hands dropped from me. They delved into his hair as a short bellow tore from his throat.

I whimpered when he hit the wall behind me with such force I felt it vibrate across my back.

His teeth were bared, his red eyes glowing more brightly in the darkness. A demon’s gaze.

I’d been right to fear him, came my frantic thoughts. He’s unpredictable. Like a wild beast, an animal.

He hissed, “Never ask me that or I will give you something to fear.”

His words were filled with such hate, with such malice, that I reacted on instinct. I pressed the small gathered energy into his mind, swallowing back the bile that rose in my throat when I felt the depth of the darkness boiling inside him. Never had I felt anything like it, even within the Ghertun.

With a sharp slice of pain that threatened to split my skull in two, I pushed back that rage and, in its place, I planted peace. Or, at least, I tried to. The rage was so pure that I could only momentarily soften it, sculpt it into something less fearsome, if only for a little while.

His body slackened, his head dropping a fraction above me so that I felt his dark hair trail across my exposed neck.

Nausea roiled within my belly and I pressed my trembling hands to the wall behind me to steady myself. The stabbing pain behind my eyes was blooming, spreading like spilled ink across parchment.

The Dakkari male’s heat reached me. His bared chest radiated it in rolling waves. He smelled rich and earthy, like the fragrant, dark soil I’d delved my palms into back at our village before the Ghertun had come.

“Who are you?” he rasped again, his voice quiet. When I managed to lift my head to look at him, I saw he looked…drained. Exhausted. I almost felt pity take root inside me, but I extinguished it. He was dangerous. He didn’t need my pity.

What he really meant was: what are you?

Though I knew the Dakkari were strange about names, humans were not, and I hoped it would distract him.

“Vienne,” I told him, clenching my jaw through the pain. I wanted to curl up somewhere and sleep it off. I would be useless for the night. I would find the Dothikkar in the morning. Already, my vision looked fissured, cracked and wavy. “I am Vienne.”

His jaw clenched. His firm, full lips pressed together.

The heavy thud of footsteps were coming down the stone stairs just outside the alleyway. Only this time, I heard the tinkling of metal, of the plated armor that the Dothikkar’s guards wore. There were two of them, making rounds on their patrols. I’d already managed to slip away from them before, twisting my leg in the process. Would I be so lucky again? Especially when the pain made it hard to think, to breathe?

The male heard them too. His gaze flickered and then he commanded, roughly, “Leave. Go back to where you came from. Before the guards find you and throw you in the Dothikkar’s dungeons. I promise you will not like it there. You will not find mercy in the Dothikkar.”

My gaze dragged up to his, pausing for a moment. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him for help, but I knew better. I would not be able to influence his emotions again until the pain passed, perhaps even for days, and I would not risk it.

“Go,” he growled, “before I decide to keep you for myself.” Shock rippled through me. “I will distract the guards.”

Before I could say anything more, he pushed away from me, leaving a rush of cool air to take his place.

I didn’t hesitate. As he intercepted the guards, speaking to them in Dakkari, blocking them from sight with his wide shoulders and broad back, I slipped from the alley, sticking close to the shadows, scurrying away like a rodent in the night though my feet felt sluggish and my mind felt like it was cracking wide open.

When I was far enough away, I slipped between two tall buildings, clenching my jaw as a wave of dizziness pulsed through me. I hunkered down among a stack of dirty barrels that smelled like piss, pulling my cloak around me tightly, squeezing my eyes shut.

When my vision faded, when my body went slack, it was a welcome mercy.

Rough hands woke me and I cried out immediately, thrashing and hissing like a spooked, feral animal.

My

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