a prick at the back of my neck, the tendrils of his throbbing anger. Then the reddened heat of arousal, of wicked desire, made me dizzy as it lingered, as it touched and caressed me.
And his eyes…those eyes were making me drown as desperation crawled its way up my throat. I was about to beg him to stop whatever he was doing, whatever he had done.
With a rough growl and a curse, he shoved the tunic over my head, pulling my arms through. I noticed he was careful not to touch my flesh and only when I was covered did he bite out, “Go eat.”
I rose on shaking legs, eager to retreat, limping over to the table in a hushed daze. I’d never met another being that could do what I did. I’d never given my gift much thought because it was something that I’d always had. Were there others with similar power? Was he one of them?
It certainly felt that way as I lowered myself onto the cushion, blinking down at the food, confused by how I’d gotten there.
The food looked decadent. I’d never seen so much in my life, all laid out in one place. Even the wealthier sibi under the Dead Mountain did not eat this much.
Across the room, in the corner, within arm’s reach of his sword, I saw the Vorakkar take a seat in a wide chair. It creaked under his weight and bulk as he rested his forearms on his knees, regarding me. The fire was warm on my back as I reached forward, selecting a cube of something unidentifiable. It was beige, however, and I’d eaten a lot of beige food in my lifetime.
When I popped it into my mouth and chewed, my eyes widened as flavors burst on my tongue. It was smoky and soft. Delicious. I had never had anything like it before.
I reached for another, just as the Vorakkar rasped, “Leikavi, we need to talk.”
The food turned to ash in my mouth.
Chapter Six
“I came to say only what I told the Dothikkar,” the human kalles said softly. “I can say no more.”
“Under this Ghertun king’s order?” I asked, leaning back in the chair, spreading my legs wide until I was comfortable.
“Lozza?” she whispered, her gaze shuttering. “Yes.”
“You will tell me everything,” I said, trying to keep my voice soft but failing.
I lived on the harsh and unforgiving plains of Dakkar. I trained horde warriors, I protected my people, I kept my gaze away from the shadows, and I fucked when the need grew too great. That was my life. I knew few comforts and certainly could not offer any to this wisp of a kalles, one so delicate she seemed like she could float away at any moment. I had been made into a horde king, forged in rage and sculpted by pain and hatred. It was all I knew.
I didn’t think I could be gentle or soft, even if I tried.
And this leikavi, this white-haired beauty with sad eyes…I feared I could destroy her without meaning to.
“Are you loyal to this king?” I asked, watching her closely, rubbing at the edges of the scar on my cheek.
She remained silent on that subject, but I spied the tightening of her lips. Nik, not loyal. Fearful.
“Were you…were you ordered to interrogate me for your Dothikkar? Is that why I’m here?” she asked, making my brows raise and my tail flick near my ankles. Her eyes strayed to the tip of it and she couldn’t hide the morbid curiosity in her gaze as she watched it twitch. “You—you could have just kept me in the dungeons. You didn’t have to bring me up here.”
“Asking me questions now?” I grinned at her and heard her small intake of breath. “There is the brave kalles I spied before. The same one who struck me across the face without thinking about the consequences.”
Her gaze dropped to her lap. A servant’s gaze, I knew. A slave’s gaze. One crafted from submission and, more than likely, punishment.
If I needed to scare her into giving me the answers I needed, I would. Undoubtedly. If the message she’d brought was true, Dakkari lives were at stake. Hundreds, thousands of lives could be lost if a war came to Dothik, not only lives in the capital, but across the hordes, across the outposts.
The Dothikkar would call them all to war if necessary. And they were duty-bound to answer. I needed to determine if the threat was legitimate or not.