night, as if he couldn’t stand to be with me a moment longer.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Come.”
His voice pulled me from my thoughts and I blinked as the stream of golden morning light filled the voliki. He’d only ducked his head inside, the first I’d seen of him since he’d left during the night.
I pulled on my pants, tying the lace tight at my waist. I kept on the tunic he’d given me last night, tucking it into the waistband. The material was no longer transparent now that my hair no longer wet it. After pulling on my too-large boots, I joined him outside.
He regarded me carefully when I met his eyes. He was still bare-chested, his golden tattoos on full display. For the first time, I wondered how the Dakkari inked the designs onto their skin. I wondered if it hurt.
In the light of day, he looked…better. His face was no longer contorted in blind rage. He simply looked tired.
Which wasn’t surprising considering he’d barely slept. I wondered if he had slept during our journey to his horde—I didn’t remember a time when he had. He’d always been awake when I had been. Except last night…that was the first time I’d seen him sleep. His face had been relaxed, though his lips had been turned down into a frown.
I’d joined him in sleep shortly after, only to be awakened with him on top of me, his hand at my throat, fury in his gaze.
Last night hung between us.
Heavy.
Knowing.
He knew I had some sort of power. He could sense it, which had stunned me. Even when I’d used my gift to feel the emotions of my family members, they’d been oblivious. Yet, he could feel me?
How?
“Did I scare you last night?” he asked.
Breath whistled through my nostrils when I looked up at him.
“Did you want to?” I asked him in return.
“Lysi,” he murmured, scraping a hand down his face. “I did.”
He’d wanted to scare me?
“I…” he trailed off. He shook his head. He appeared…so incredibly tired. “I needed you to be as scared as you make me feel sometimes.”
His confession left me bewildered.
I scared him?
I almost wanted to laugh.
“I’m—I’m not a sorceress, horde king,” I whispered, wanting him to know that, at the very least. “I don’t have the power to destroy a horde. I would never do anything like that.”
I didn’t know why it was so important to me for him to know that. But that word had echoed in my mind long after he’d gone. It made my mind go sour.
His jaw tightened. “You have more power than you think.”
My brow furrowed.
“Come,” he growled, his tone hardening, like he already regretted saying that. “We will go see Lokkaru now. She is awake.”
I nodded wordlessly, following him when he turned from me and walked towards the bulk of his horde.
It was still early in the morning, the sun so bright I had to use my hand to shield it from my eyes. Not many Dakkari were awake. The volikis were quiet with sleep and rest and those that did roam around stayed to themselves, only inclining their heads to their horde king in respect before regarding me with suspicious interest. Then they continued with their morning duties.
The voliki we stopped in front of was like all the rest, situated towards the middle of the encampment. Reaching out, I stroked my finger over the hide that covered the domed home. It had grown impossibly soft with the passing years.
“How old is she?” I whispered, studying the hide, not wanting to meet his eyes.
“One hundred and five years.”
The oldest living member in our village had been seventy before they’d passed on. Could the Dakkari really live this long?
I didn’t doubt it.
“Nevretam terun,” Davik called out.
A soft voice came from within and the horde king held the voliki flap entrance open for me. Taking a small breath, I ducked inside. I felt his heat behind me when he followed a moment later.
The voliki was brightly lit, a fire roaring in the golden basin. The home was much smaller than the Vorakkar’s, which was to be expected, but was comfortable and warm. A high bed of furs was in the center, though the elderly female we sought was on a cushion on the floor, seated before a table which was covered with her morning meal.
At first sight, I thought surely Davik was mistaken. This female was not one hundred and five years of age. Her hair was silky and black, hanging to the middle of her