Captive of the Horde King (Horde Kings Of Dakkar #1) - Zoey Draven Page 0,23

heat and his tongue between my thighs.

He was dressed as he was yesterday, in nothing more than a heavy cloth that covered his genitals, held up by a golden belt, and thick boots. His exposed shoulders and chest were bronzed from the strong Dakkari sun, those intricate, swirling designs of gold ink glittering as he moved towards me.

He looked every bit the barbarian Dakkari warrior I’d heard from rumors. Only now, I knew his scent. I knew his warmth and the feel of his body against me as he slept.

Arokan of Rath Kitala.

Feeling flustered, I looked from him, past him to the horde settlement spread out across the land.

In the sunlight, it was even larger than I’d originally thought.

Dozens and dozens and dozens of domed, hide tents were spread across the settlement, slightly smaller than Arokan’s. I saw smoke rising between them with mild alarm, but I saw that the fires were contained, raised off the ground in golden barrels so it didn’t scorch the earth.

Some Dakkari were working the pyroki pens, hauling in meat and fresh water for the black-scaled beasts of my nightmares. There were over a hundred of them enclosed in the pen, just a short distance away.

“You ate the broth?” Arokan asked me when he was within arm’s reach.

My eyes flashed up to his and my spine straightened ever so slightly. “I said I would, didn’t I?”

“Every last drop?” he asked softly, those yellow-rimmed eyes on me.

“Yes,” I said. “Although if you made the portion any bigger, I wouldn’t have been able to.”

“Come then,” Arokan said, seeming satisfied with my answers. “My horde will see you now.”

He turned and began walking, those scars across his back pulling. I looked behind me, saw that Lavi and Mirari remained in the tent, and hesitantly began to follow Arokan.

When I caught up to him, I asked, “What do you mean?”

He didn’t answer me. Yesterday, Mirari had said something about Arokan ‘presenting me.’ Was that what this was?

Letting out a small sigh, I simply walked with him because I didn’t know what else to do. Slightly behind him, actually, because his legs and strides were much longer than mine.

At least I’m outside, I thought, deciding to enjoy it. The air was fresh, the sun warm. Every so often, I caught a stray whiff of pyroki, whenever the wind changed. Sometimes, I even caught Arokan’s scent.

Within the settlement, it seemed like a flurry of activity. I spied many Dakkari milling between the spaces of each tent, hauling baskets of wood, or food, or cloth. I heard the distant, strange laughter of Dakkari young, saw some dart between the tents as we walked, peering at us curiously. I heard metal clanging together, like a blacksmith shop, of swords being forged. I saw what looked like a training ground, with young Dakkari males sparring with spears and blades.

The further we walked into the settlement, the larger notice we drew. Every Dakkari we passed stopped and stared at me, though I noticed that whenever I returned their gaze, they darted their eyes away. It didn’t matter if it was males, females, or children…no one would look at me directly.

Many had already seen me. I remembered that first night, when Arokan’s horde had greeted him, touching his pyroki, his legs and mine, as we rode through the camp.

But perhaps in the light of day, it was different.

It was intimidating.

I was the only human in a camp full of Dakkari. And I stuck out like one.

It didn’t help that I was practically naked. The clothes covered my breasts and my collarbones and my lower half, but not much more.

I did notice, however, that many Dakkari females also wore revealing clothing, despite their age. Some females were even topless, baring their large breasts to the sun. Most of the males only wore a cloth over their sex, just like Arokan.

It was something else I would need to get used to, a difference, of which I was sure there were many, between Dakkari and human culture.

We made multiple passes throughout the entire settlement, so many that by the end of it, my thighs were rubbed a little raw again.

Arokan had said his horde would see me and he’d been right. I didn’t think a single Dakkari hadn’t by the time we were finished.

Throughout it all, Arokan didn’t look at me once. Whenever I tried to ask him a question—about something we passed, about how many Dakkari lived in his horde, about the training grounds, about the bustling cooking