Текст книги "The horde King of shadow"

Автор книги: Zoey Draven

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Chapter 29KLARA

The sun was lowering in the sky, and I felt like I was out of my own skin. Like it was just something that had kept me contained my whole life.

My hair was wild. My skin sensitive and stinging. There was a ball of determination nestled deep in my belly. And I felt like I wasn’t myself. I felt like this other thing. This wild being who threw herself off the backs of dragons, who’d looked at death as it had risen up to approach her.

My bones and joints were aching from the impact of Zaridan’s catches. A permanent fluttering had taken root in my stomach, the force of the fall, and I wondered if it would ever go away.

There was another aching, wild thing in me though. An intertwining of frustration, anger, want, and gratitude. It mingled with the adrenaline, and I found that every time Sarkin caught me after another fall, it grew and grew.

His touch set me on fire. My body felt like it was a string, tightening and tightening, and I wondered what would happen when that string finally snapped.

I didn’t know if Sarkin felt it too. The adrenaline. The building and mounting sensation of fierce need. I wouldn’t have believed it, but in the last two falls I’d taken…I’d felt the fluttering in my belly move between my thighs.

When Sarkin caught me that final time, I knew I’d had enough. I’d willingly jumped off Zaridan over a dozen times that afternoon. I had been dismantled and then rebuilt with every last one until I was someone I didn’t quite recognize anymore.

Sarkin’s hands on me were as familiar as the sturdy, unyielding harness between my thighs and the sound of Zaridan’s great wings.

That string of tension finally snapped when Sarkin murmured into my ear, “Good?”

A breath, or a gasp or a sob perhaps, escaped me, and I turned in his arms, swiveling in the leather mount.

My kiss was a desperate, aching, wild little monster. The thought of it—of him, his lips, his touch, his taste—had consumed me. He was a monster, one who cared about me, one who had pushed me off Zaridan’s back to free me.

His kiss was immediate, his grip tightening on my waist. I was tugging at his clothes, fumbling with the clasps near the hem of his pants.

“Get them off,” I pleaded, my voice husky and raw from the wind. I needed to feel his skin against mine. I needed to be grounded to something, or else I feared I would fall into nothingness. “Kakkari, please!”

Sarkin’s growl was both a warning and a demand. He leaned over and thumped his fist along Zaridan’s side three times. She veered, aiming for the nearest flattened ledge along the cliffside.

I moved my mouth, biting at Sarkin’s neck, making him hiss, followed by a groan that had me squeezing my legs around the harness all the more forcefully. I couldn’t find the relief I needed though. If I didn’t have it soon, I was almost afraid of what would happen.

As sunset painted beautiful pastel colors over the Tharken cliffs and I heard the crash of waves from a faraway ocean, I felt a maelstrom of fierce need storming through every vein, rushing with every throb of my heart.

Sarkin timed our jump onto the ledge perfectly, and Zaridan left us, flying freely through the pass and disappearing from view. The stone was solid beneath my feet as Sarkin tore at my clothes. It was like a race to get us both undressed as quickly as possible. When we were naked, I crashed into him, crying out in relief at the warm stretch of his body against me, all solid muscles and tantalizing, arousing strength.

His mouth was hot like a brand on my neck, marking me with his teeth and tongue. My hands dove into his hair, keeping him there. He kissed and nibbled downward, seeking, before sucking my nipple between his lips. My moan echoed through Tharken.

“Need you now,” I pleaded. I didn’t want to be teased or kissed or petted. I needed him inside my body. I needed to feel the stinging stretch of him, the thickness of his cock keeping me rooted to the earth. “Sarkin, hanniva!”

“Take me in your hand,” he growled. My fingers curled, my grip tight, and his hips bucked forward when I slid my hand down. “Fuck, aralye. I never thought…”

“Thought what?” I breathed, my eyes going half-lidded at the feel of him in my palm.

“Never thought it would be like this with you,” he admitted, his brow furrowing in an almost angry expression. But I knew better now. “I thought Lishara’s blessing was behind us.”

I thought I understood what he was saying.

“This need feels almost worse,” I confessed, running my fist down his cock again, my thumb swiping over the sensitive head, smearing his pre-come, making him grit his teeth. “How do you want me?”

He laughed, but it was low and humorless. “I want you in every way, Klara.”

A shiver dragged its way up my spine like a slow touch.

“I’m afraid it will never be enough,” he growled, glaring. As if it was my fault alone.

I kissed him again, and his tongue swept into my mouth. It felt like he was devouring me. Tingles started all over my body until I was trembling. The adrenaline was still pumping through me, still making me feel like I was flying.

“We’re talking entirely too much,” I said against his lips, the raspiness and urgency in my tone sounding like a little growl of my own.

He groaned, his hands threading through my hair. He pulled me back with a fist in my hair, my throat exposed to him, as our eyes connected. My breathing went shallow.

“Do that again—give me your little growl. Tell me what you want, princess, and I’ll give you whatever you need.”

“Make love to me, Sarkin,” I pleaded.

His expression flickered. I saw his molten determination bloom, his hot, burning eyes roving down my body, as if he was envisioning everything he would do to me.

“Beg me with your little Dakkari word,” he commanded, his thumb dipping between my legs, gentle and teasing over my sensitive clit. My thighs trembled.

“Hanniva,” I said. His eyes closed, and in my grip, I felt his cock pulse and harden even further, if that was even possible. “Hanniva!”

He pushed me up against the cliffside, my back against surprisingly smooth stone. The expanse of the Tharken cliffs was before us, a breathtaking view in itself, but all I had eyes for was my husband.

He moved me bodily, hitching me up as my legs wrapped around his hips. Reminiscent of our first time in Lishara’s temple, only instead of a heartstone pillar, my back was against the cliffs.

We both groaned in satisfaction and relief when he slid deep inside without warning. I was open to him like this. I took him easily, with no resistance, my body wanting, needing. A desperate little thing, and it was hungry.

Our lovemaking was quick. Like falling off Zaridan, this moment felt like I was out of my body. I felt only sensations. I felt the drag of my hand across his shoulders. The tightness between my thighs, the pleasure rising with every bump of his dakke against my clit, rubbing against me with perfect friction and pressure.

I felt his lips at my neck. I felt his hot breath explode against my skin with every powerful thrust. I felt my legs tighten in time with the muscles flexing in his backside. My heartbeat was so loud it sounded like the great rush of Zaridan’s wings.

When my orgasm hit, it blinded me. The whole world burst into starlight. My scream echoed throughout Tharken long after I’d unleashed it. Relief and ecstasy came. I wasn’t aware that I was crying until after the most powerful wave of it was over. When I opened my eyes, they were blurry with unushered tears. Belatedly, I realized that Sarkin was groaning, his thrusts jerky and slowing as he gave me the last of his strength, as the lashes of his come filled me.

When it was over, I hugged him to me as tears dripped down my face. Again I felt the rapidness of our hearts against one another. Soon, as they slowed, their beats began to match.

Sarkin maneuvered my legs to the ground.

“What are you doing?” I whispered, not trusting my voice as I watched him slide to his knees before me.

I was shy when he parted my thighs, though I was curious. His thumb traced over my sex, and I jumped, biting my lip, anticipation curling in my belly.

In disbelief, I watched him lean forward, his tongue darting out as he lapped between my thighs. My lips parted, tingles exploding across my skin, my scalp prickling. When his tongue curled around my sensitive clit, I sucked in a sharp breath. He was gentle, rubbing his soft lips against the bundle of nerves, and I started to pant. He was holding my gaze, those molten, multicolored eyes watching every expression that flickered over my face.

He liked to see what he did to me.

My eyes closed as I felt desire bloom deep. This time it felt different. It felt slow, but it felt endless. It wasn’t rushed or desperate. He licked and kissed between my thighs, lapping at our combined mess, the mess we’d made together, and he didn’t seem to care at all how perfectly wicked that felt.

“Sarkin,” I breathed, wanting him again, not thinking it was possible so soon. We’d barely caught our breath.

He rose and captured my lips. I sucked at his tongue, tasting what he had. My fingers dug into his shoulders, and his hands came up to my breasts, pinching at my nipples, making me arch into him.

“Again?” I gasped.

“Again,” he growled. “We’ll make camp here tonight. I’m nowhere near done with you yet, wife.”

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Chapter 30KLARA

I’d only ever read about what it felt like to fall in love.

But as I sat between Sarkin’s legs, looking out over the quiet darkness of the Tharken cliffs, with bright stars and a silver moon creating a kaleidoscope of beauty overhead, I wondered if this was what it felt like.

I was exhausted. The wild swings in my emotions that day were so vast that I wasn’t even sure I believed them. All I knew right then was that we had a fire going, my belly was full and fed, we had a warm fur blanket draped over us, and Sarkin’s arms were around me.

“Do you hate me for what I did today?” came his quiet question, his lips pressing against my shoulder.

We’d barely spoken in the aftermath of our lovemaking. We’d been ravenous for each other, to the point of obsession. Even after the moon had begun to rise, we’d still been going. Only after I’d begged for a reprieve, sore between my thighs, my eyelids drooping and my stomach rumbling with hunger, had Sarkin relented. He’d called for Zaridan with the black band on his wrist and retrieved his leather satchel. Supplies for our night, including a leather band that he would use to tie our ankles together before we slept.

“No,” I answered, though I did take time to think about it carefully. He’d created a terror in me I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to forget. But he’d also given me a great gift. A gift of freedom.

He’d taught me what it felt like to defy death. He’d untied every last thread I had knotted inside me. He’d made me new.

I felt…powerful.

Was this what he felt like, bonded to an Elthika? This knowing, this sense of invincibility?

“You were worried about that?” I asked, turning my head to look at him.

“Don’t misunderstand me,” he told me carefully, reaching up to trace the curve of my face, his fingers running over my scar. “I will never regret what I did to you today. It was necessary. But I never wanted to hurt you.”

My entire body hurt, but somehow I felt weightless.

“I meant what I said. When I first saw you in Dothik…I never imagined that it would be like this,” he admitted.

Together? Was that what he meant? Us, naked, on the edge of a cliff?

“You knew who I was,” I murmured, “when you saw me in the market.”

“I had scouts on you, yes,” he told me. “But I only knew you were part of the royal family, one of the Dothikkar’s daughters.”

“Was it always your intention to marry one of us?”

My gut churned, thinking that he could have easily demanded Alanis. Or Lakkis, the beauty of the family. I would have never known him like this.

If not for the scar that Zaridan had marked me with.

A sharp breath left him. His eyes darted back and forth between mine before dropping to my lips briefly.

“No,” he answered. “I never had any intention of taking a Dakkari wife. You were a surprise. One I didn’t foresee.”

I turned more fully in his arms so we faced one another, placing my legs underneath his drawn-up knees.

“You mentioned that…Elysom gave you something called mysar commands. That marrying was part of them.”

Sarkin’s gaze flickered. “Are you asking me something specific? Or making a general observation?”

I thought he well knew what my question was, but I could actually feel a barrier being placed between us. I was desperate to stop it. I didn’t think I could stand his retreat after today of all days.

“You are very rarely open with me,” I said quietly, uncertain how he would take the words. His brows lowered, and I felt the way his muscles tensed, like he was on the verge of retreating. I gripped his wrist before he could move away, feeling his heat. “Is it so bad that I want to know you? That I want to learn about you? But this wall you keep up…it makes it nearly impossible.”

Sarkin’s shoulders lowered. He looked away from me, his jaw pulsing, his eyes scanning the darkness of the Tharken Pass below us.

“It’s self-preservation, aralye,” he told me. “And it is habit and has very little to do with you.”

“But I’m your wife, Sarkin,” I argued. “This, between us, is still so new…but I bonded myself to you. Doesn’t that mean something?”

“And who is your loyalty to?” he asked.

“This again,” I breathed, shaking my head. “We talked about this.”

“If given the choice, would you not return to Dakkar? At this very moment? Leave all this behind?”

“Of course not!” I cried out, staring straight into his eyes. “And if you don’t believe me, that’s more of a testament to your loyalty than mine.”

His expression shifted darkly with the words.

“How can we ever build anything if you believe I’m always looking for a way back home?” I asked. “I don’t know what else I can do or say to make you believe me.”

But I am keeping something from him, I couldn’t help but remember. And if I told him, would it only create more of a divide?

“Maybe I’ll stop thinking that when you stop thinking of Dakkar as ‘home,’” he said.

A sharp breath escaped me.

I didn’t see a choice. If I kept it to myself, he would only have more reason to mistrust me.

I bit my lip. But then I gathered my courage.

“I had a dream last night. I lied to you. I didn’t dream of my mother,” I said.

His eyes sharpened on me. “What, then?”

I dragged in a sharp breath. But I figured this was the perfect place to tell him, away from the horde, trapped on a ledge, so we could actually talk about this without disruption.

“The heartstones,” I said, meeting his eyes. “I know where they are.”

His body went still. I didn’t even think he breathed.

“Where?” he asked sharply.

“Back…in Dakkar,” I said. I’d almost said home.

He dragged in a full breath, his shoulders rising. “What?”

“If my dream was true…but I believe it was,” I added. “They are in Dakkar.”

“Tell me,” he said. “Everything.”

The bitter thought in my head was, But you never tell me anything.

Still, I relented. I told him about the dream, about what I’d seen, the thalara tree in the middle of a forest near the Dead Lands.

“These heartstones were different,” I finished. “They seemed dulled. Like the one in King Arik’s sword. They’re losing power.”

“The tree is dying,” Sarkin said, raking his gaze over my face. “The heartstones will die with it if we don’t reach them in time.”

“I figured as much.”

“Why are you so certain that your vision is true? Have they ever been wrong?” Sarkin asked.

“Yes,” I said, eyeing him. “Sometimes they’re just dreams. The difficulty is dissecting which parts are true because sometimes my dreams and my visions can meld together. I know this one is true because…there have been stories circulating in my family’s line for centuries. Ever since Vienne. Stories about a bleeding, whispering tree that gifted her a heartstone when she needed it most.”

I took in a deep breath, wondering if he would be angry.

“Its location had been long forgotten, or perhaps purposefully kept secret, but the stories have always persisted. My own mother told me them, who heard them from her mother. She said it was an ancient family secret, that only those in the Rath Drokka line would know the truth of how Vienne found the heartstone that night.”

“Why did you lie to me?” he asked next, after a brief lapse in silence.

“I don’t know,” I said quickly.

“That’s not true. Tell me, Klara.”

I took his hand in mine. His expression was intense, but he was willing to listen to me. “I feared what it might mean.”

“And what is that? War?”

I inhaled deeply. “My own mother died—was murdered—trying to create these rocks. Seeds. Whatever you want to call them. I’ve watched my father give free rein to the priestesses in our North Lands. For greed. For power. The heartstones have done great things—twice that we know of, they’ve saved my people. But they’ve also created terrible things…and I know the Karag want them desperately. With the Elthika at your side, with the ethrall, I wasn’t…I wasn’t certain.”

“And you think the Karag would fly to Dothik and slaughter your entire people for the heartstones? Without a second thought?” Sarkin asked, narrowing his eyes on me.

“No! But you did unleash ethrall on my family to get me to do what you wanted,” I argued, frowning. “Was it so inconceivable for me to have the passing thought that you might do it again, especially when the heartstones are involved? What you want most?”

Sarkin reared back, turning his head to the side, a scoff escaping him. I kept a solid grip on his hand, but I didn’t need to fear him leaving. Instead, when he turned back to me, he pressed closer, cupping my face in his palms. He lowered his head until we were eye level.

“There is an enemy nation in the northeast of Karag. They called themselves the Hartans. A decade ago, only a year after I took over rule of my territory, Elysom called us to war. It took six months of battle until they bent a knee to us,” he said. “Many died. On all three sides, since it was also a war against the Elthika. But war had been the last resort with the Hartans. We tried negotiations. Treaties. Trade pacts. We gave them a supply of heartstones for their own use, to progress their technologies.

“But they wanted Elthika. They wanted eggs, to raise them as battle-bred beasts, to control them, to use them. It’s nonnegotiable for the Karag. The Elthika are not to be owned. The Hartans never understood that. Only after they attacked one of the outer villages in Grym, destroying a hatchery and attempting to steal the Elthika eggs there, did we declare our war against them.”

I processed this information carefully and then asked, “Why not use the ethrall on them?”

“Because they used the heartstones we gave them to develop a new technology. It acted like a shield against the ethrall. We couldn’t pierce it—and not all Elthika have the ability to use ethrall, only some of the Vyrin. Elysom’s offering toward peace ended up prolonging a war that lasted months, one that could have been won in moments and saved countless lives.”

“Then wouldn’t you argue that the war with the Hartans taught the Karag to trust less, to not be so merciful?”

“I’m trying to make you understand that war only happens in extreme circumstances and usually on the heels of a horrendous act that cannot be forgiven,” Sarkin answered, more passionate than I’d ever seen him, his cheeks flushed, a scowl on his face. “There are those in Elysom who believe that as long as the Dakkari have possession of the heartstones, there will always be a threat of war. That is why we’ve been watching you for the last few decades. Your people do not yet have the technologies that would be a great threat to us…but with time, you will.”

“So you will take the heartstones away,” I answered, his hands falling away from my face. “Now that you know where they are. You hoped they were here. But maybe there was a reason Zaridan marked me, a descendent of Rath Drokka. To lead you to the thalara tree, where my ancestor had once found a heartstone.”

“Perhaps,” Sarkin said, and I didn’t know why I felt such a stunning throb of disappointment at the word. I couldn’t help but rear back, but Sarkin took my hand, not allowing me to pull away. “But I like to think there was a greater reason.”

A little pinprick of hope had me raising my eyes to his.

“And what is that?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He shook his head, a slight smile lifting the left side of his mouth. He wouldn’t tell me. Instead, he sighed and leaned forward, brushing his lips against mine. I met his kiss hesitantly, but I met it nonetheless.

“The Karag have more honor than swooping into another territory and stealing something infinitely valuable, like common thieves,” he told me when he pulled back. I felt the words across my lips as his eyes dipped to them. “I will need to take this information to Elysom. There will be negotiations. To destroy a thalara tree is a dire choice, but Dakkar will get their share. And yes, after my showing of the ethrall, your father might think twice about trying for more.”

“And if he doesn’t?” I couldn’t help but ask. “If he argues that the tree grew in Dakkari soil, then it wouldn’t belong to you and you would have no claim to it. You cannot deny that truth.”

“There is the possibility, yes,” Sarkin said. “Technically we have no claim to the heartstones. But we do need them. To create more. And we won’t be denied them.”

My belly dipped with realization. “Then it is very beneficial to you that you have a Dakkari wife, who is a daughter of the Dothikkar. Elysom will realize the gift you’ve given them even if they believe you’d first married me out of spite.”

Sarkin scowled. “That’s not what this is about, Klara.”

“Isn’t it? Will you use me in your negotiations to get what you want?”

“If I must, but no harm would ever come to you.”

“But you would make my family believe that it might. My father might not care. But my brother would,” I told him. “If you use me as leverage in your negotiations, then where is your loyalty to me, Sarkin? Or does it only matter when my allegiance is to you and only you?”

His expression was thunderous, the muscle in his jaw ticking.

“I’m not going to get into an argument with you about hypotheticals, Klara,” he finally said. “It’s pointless.”

He didn’t understand what I was trying to say, did he?

I shook him off. Suddenly I felt sad, a deep despair blooming in my belly. I still felt the heat of his touch on my skin, but I’d never felt colder.

We lapsed into silence. The night that had once seemed so magical and lovely now felt suffocating.

“Can we go back to the horde now?” I asked. “I don’t want to stay here tonight.”

I could feel Sarkin’s frustration. “Klara.”

“Hanniva,” I said softly. Please.

Earlier I’d used that word to beg him to touch me. Now I used it to get away from him.

Sarkin’s lips pressed together, but I saw his hand move. It went to the black cuff on his wrist, pressing a button on the side, one that he’d told me let out a sound we couldn’t hear but Elthika could.

A moment later, I heard Zaridan’s response, a muted roar, somewhere nearby, followed by the rushing sound of her great wings.

“Whatever you wish,” Sarkin told me.

When he turned to pack up our supplies and put out the fire, I caught movement along the opposite cliff. My heart jolted when I saw the silvery scales flash in the light of the moon. An Elthika had been watching us.

It was him.

The one from my dreams.

I recognized him instantly, like a bolt of lightning had speared through me, sparking in my veins, making me straighten.

His great body moved gracefully as it flew in the pass, sticking close to the side of the cliffs. He was silent, I realized. Like a ghost. Like he had never been there at all.

With my heartbeat in my throat, I watched him disappear from view, diving deeper down in the rocky ravine until the darkness swallowed him up.

Gone. As quickly as I’d realized he was there.

When Sarkin turned, already dressed and hitching the pack up his shoulder, I thought about telling him what I’d seen.

“You should get dressed,” he told me softly, handing me the clothes I’d fallen in over a dozen times. How long ago that seemed now.

With one last look down the darkened pass, I decided to hold my tongue.

Maybe I had seen a ghost.

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