he stood next to his pyroki, which was freshly painted with gold lines, whose reins he held in his large, six-fingered grip.
My palms went sweaty at the sight of the beast.
A part of me, the cowardly part, wanted to turn and dart back inside the tent, to hide there for the remainder of the night and bolt from the camp at my next opportunity, to try and brave the wild lands to navigate my way back home.
That was suicide, I knew, but I was afraid enough to want to try. At least, the unreasonable and emotional part of me wanted to try.
I’d made a promise, I reminded myself.
With that thought, my feet—which were bare and unprotected—guided me to Arokan, though I stumbled a bit. The clearing in front of the tent was empty, the whole camp was quiet, though a gentle yellow glow emanated over it, which seemed strange. Silently, Mirari and Lavi slipped away, threading around the quiet tents, disappearing from view.
Until it was just Arokan and I. And his beast.
He didn’t speak. He held out his free arm, extending his hand towards me, and with a final breath, I took it. His hand was warm and mine was cold. My whole body trembled though I desperately tried to stop shaking.
Arokan gripped me to him, pulling me close so that I felt the fur cloth covering his genitals brush against my bare belly. The fur tickled, it was so soft.
But I was beyond laughter when I looked up at him.
“Are you frightened, Luna?” he asked me and I stilled when I heard my name fall from his lips, so unexpected that for a moment, I forgot my nerves. Forgot everything.
Then I remembered. Remembered who I was, why I’d come here. Remembered the young girl that had been forced to grow up too soon, remembered the years of hard work, of hard struggle, to provide for Kivan in an unfair universe.
I was strong.
I was Luna. Not kalles or Missiki or Morakkari. At least not yet.
Luna.
Bright stars shone down, glimmering in the absence of the moon light. Some of the stars I didn’t recognize. Some of them only made their appearance when the moon was dark.
“I am,” I whispered, which was difficult to say. I was frightened. I wouldn’t pretend otherwise.
I’d grown up trying to put on a strong front, trying to lie to myself that everything was alright, for Kivan’s sake. But right then I realized I didn’t need to lie anymore. I didn’t need to protect Arokan from the truth and I certainly didn’t need to impress him.
It was…freeing.
I could be strong and still be frightened. That night, I just needed to be brave and I would be.
Arokan inclined his head in acknowledgment, but didn’t say anything in reply, which I was surprisingly thankful for. Instead, he made a clicking sound in the back of his throat and his pyroki inclined his head, bowing so that it would be easier for me to climb on.
Remembering the unforgiving hardness of riding a pyroki, I hesitated. Truthfully, I would rather parade myself naked around the entire camp than get on the back of the intimidating creature again, but Arokan was watching me, studying me.
So I climbed on with the help of the horde king, though I surely flashed him in the process. The short skirt barely concealed my lower half and with my thighs splayed wide over the pyroki’s back, I felt exposed and on display.
With a grace and experienced ease, Arokan swung himself up behind me, those thick thighs bracing on both sides of my body, encasing my own.
Stiffening in the seat, I gasped when Arokan reached around and pressed his hand to my bare sex, cupping it. Warmth from his hand heated me, registered, and my cheeks flamed when I asked, “What are you doing?”
“No male will see you here,” he growled. “This is only for me.”
“Then maybe you should have given me a longer skirt,” I returned, though my voice sounded a little strangled.
Arokan made a grunting sound and curled his fingers, making me straighten, making my nipples tighten even further, if possible. “I did not want to.”
My eyes narrowed—maddening male—but I bit my tongue when he urged the pyroki forward.
The jolting, rocking motion of the pyroki was both familiar and strange, but every step it took pushed Arokan’s hand against me more, making me swallow, making me aware of my shallow breathing.
Perhaps it was best that I focused on that hand, as opposed to everything else that