Captive of the Horde King (Horde Kings Of Dakkar #1) - Zoey Draven Page 0,44

tragedies? I wondered. Did Arokan experience the same tragedies too?

That didn’t make me feel any better. She’d known Arokan’s given name, which meant that she was close to him. I’d known that. Still, she’d gotten under my skin, she’d managed to hurt me. I told her something that I’d never voiced out loud before.

She thought I was weak, that I wouldn’t be able to do my duty when it came to the horde. In a way, I suspected she was right. I was out of my element, thrown into a life I wasn’t prepared for. I’d never even wanted to be queen to Arokan’s horde and I sure as hell didn’t ask for it.

But now, it didn’t matter. I was queen. It was done. Arokan had chosen me for reasons I still didn’t understand and his aunt hated me for it.

“Is she the only relation the Vorakkar has within the horde?” I asked.

“Lysi,” Mirari said. “She is the last female of their line. He is the last male. Unless you bear the Vorakkar a daughter and a son.”

I went quiet, processing her words. I couldn’t force Hukan to accept me. She merely tolerated my presence because of Arokan.

Whatever needs to happen will happen, I decided. It was best not to dwell on it.

A cracking branch made me stiffen and our heads jerked towards the sound. But through the density of the forest, I could see nothing or no one.

Memories of my mother rose, though I tried to push them back. Suddenly, I was fifteen again, alone in the icy forest during the cold season, desperately looking for my mother, a tangy, metallic smell permeating the air. Something had been watching me, something had been following me.

“We should turn back now, Missiki,” Mirari said, breaking me out of that particular memory. “We have gone far enough.”

I nodded, my heart beat drumming in my chest, and we turned around, heading back towards the camp. I heard another branch snap behind us and we picked up the pace, none of us talking until we reached the edge of the camp again. Even the Dakkari feared the beasts in the wilds, it seemed.

A small burst of relief made me exhale a sharp breath when I saw the busy camp, much busier than it had been that morning. A short distance away, I saw my tent, but the thought of returning filled me with restlessness so I turned away.

“Missiki,” Mirari called, questioning.

“Let’s walk through camp and see if anything needs to be done,” I said in return.

She sputtered, protesting, and hurried her pace to keep up with me, as did Lavi. “Missiki, you are Morakkari now. You do not help with these things. The Vorakkar would be most displeased if—”

“What am I expected to do here?” I asked, stopping to turn towards her. “I need to do something.”

“I do not know what the Vorakkar’s plans are for you but I do not—”

I cut her off by saying, “Well, let me go ask him. Where is he?”

Mirari’s gold painted eyelids fluttered in shock.

“What do Morakkaris do exactly?” I asked instead when she didn’t reply.

“They—they keep the Vorakkar pleased, so he can lead effectively.”

My eyes bulged and I choked out a small laugh. Then I realized she wasn’t joking.

“You can’t be serious,” I said. “Any female could ‘please’ him, if that was the case.”

“Not any female could provide him heirs,” Mirari returned.

My lips pressed together. So was I nothing more than a breeding vessel, a whore with a queen’s title?

I thought of his treasure chests lined against the wall of the tent, remembered that they were filled with female adornments and pretty things, chests I assumed were for the females who ‘pleased’ him.

Something cut me at that thought. Something that confused me. Something that felt an awful lot like jealousy, like possession.

So this is how it is, Luna? You have sex with him once and now you think he’s yours?

But he was, wasn’t he? By all rights, he was my goddamn husband, whether I’d asked for it or not.

“That doesn’t work for me,” I said, my spine straightening. My eyes went to the guard, still hovering behind Lavi. “Take me to the Vorakkar.”

The guard’s eyes met mine. A scar slashed across his face, across his cheekbone, the bridge of his nose.

His gaze went to Mirari, though she stayed silent.

Finally, he said, in clumsy, unpracticed universal tongue, “He is training now, Morakkari.”

“Then take me to where he trains.”

The guard’s jaw clenched but then he inclined his head in