“Except one, no Dakkari knows my given name among my horde,” he told me. “None ever will.”
“I’m not Dakkari,” I pointed out.
He made a sound in the back of his throat. For a moment I thought it sounded amused. “Nik, kalles, you are not.”
I waited for a long time, but eventually decided that I would have to call him Vorakkar. Just like everyone else. A strange part of me found disappointment in that.
Which was why I was surprised when he finally said, “I will offer you my given name on two conditions.”
Curiosity and wariness made me ask, “What are they?”
“You never speak it where it can be overheard by my horde,” he said.
“And the other?” I asked.
“You will eat once you wake.”
I inhaled a small, surprised breath through my nostrils.
Logically, I knew I couldn’t go even another couple days without eating something. But I still felt an incredible guilt weighing on my shoulders when I thought of eating fresh meat and having a full belly. What did that even taste like, feel like?
Softly, I said, “I will have the broth.” The horde king made a noise of protest and I said, “We have broth in our rations. I will eat that and nothing more.”
“Stubborn kalles,” he murmured. But he let out a deep sigh. “You will eat the entire portion I give you?”
“Yes,” I whispered. “I promise.”
The horde king pressed his hand to the back of my head and I felt his lips brush my ear, felt his tail curl around my calf.
“Arokan,” he rasped softly, sending goosebumps over my arms. “My given name is Arokan of Rath Kitala. Now, sleep, kalles.”
Arokan.
I did as he asked with his name ringing in my mind.
Chapter Eight
When I woke, Arokan was gone again. Only that time, I hadn’t heard him leave the bed.
In the light of day, some of which filtered through the very top of the domed tent, casting little pools of light on the furs, I was even more confused than I’d been the previous night.
The furs tickled my bare legs since my shift dress had ridden up during the night. I could distinctly remember the heat of his tongue running up my body, the feel of it between my thighs.
The absence of it when he stopped.
I exhaled a sharp breath through my nostrils.
Whatever thoughts I had about the horde king, however, I didn’t need to dwell on so I pushed them from my mind as I pushed up from the bed I’d shared with him.
As if waiting for any sign of movement within the tent, my two piki entered without hesitation. Mirari was carrying another tray of food and Lavi had her bundle of supplies they would no doubt use on me again that morning.
Was this what my life would be like until the horde king tired of me? To sleep beside him and stay sequestered in a tent during the day, to be bathed and clothed and coifed for no reason at all?
“The Vorakkar sends you this,” Mirari said with a slight incline of her head in greeting. She set the tray down onto the same low table as yesterday. Except this time I saw that instead of numerous bowls of food…there was a single bowl filled with steaming broth. “He says you are to eat it all and if you do not…then we must tell him.”
It was a giant bowl of broth.
I pressed my lips together, remembering our agreement. He’d said he would give me his name in exchange for eating the entire portion he would give me. Only, he hadn’t mentioned that the portion would be four or five times larger than what it normally would be in our ration packs.
“Right,” I said softly, pressing a hand to my empty stomach. Then I sighed as I walked to the low table and sat on a cushion.
Mirari watched me out of the corner of her eye as I picked up the bowl in both hands and brought it to my lips.
Flavor burst on my palate, delicious and savory. It was possibly the best thing I’d ever tasted and I only felt a slight twinge of guilt as I swallowed the mouthful I’d taken in. I could feel how the broth traveled to my waiting belly, how it warmed a path inside me.
Closing my eyes, I drank more and I hated that it tasted so good, nothing like the bland, watery soup we were given in our rations. It was rich and fatty and delicious.
It took me only a few moments to finish the entire bowl. By the time I was done, I felt…full. A strange, foreign, even uncomfortable sensation. I felt like my stomach would burst.
But the hunger was gone. That was something.
After my meal, I let the piki do what they did yesterday without a fuss. From their bundle, they dragged a fresh outfit—two different outfits in two days when I’d had two in total for the past couple years—just as revealing as the last.
It was a gold-collared top, just like yesterday, that showed my naval and left my arms and most of my back bare. The skirt was asymmetrical, long on one side, while short on the other, so short that it barely covered my backside. The same pair of sandals were strapped to my feet and Lavi did what she did yesterday with my hair.
Thankfully, Mirari didn’t touch the cosmetics, nor did she try to convince me to use some.
I stayed silent through the whole process. Even when Mirari put some salve on my inner thighs.
However, she hesitated as she asked, “Would you like some for inside?”
Inside? I thought, my brow furrowing in confusion.
It took me a moment to realize what she meant and when I did, my cheeks flamed.
She assumed Arokan mated me last night, seeing as how she’d prepared me for it the previous night.
She thought I was sore, or perhaps that he’d been too rough or too large.
I cleared my throat and shook my head. “He didn’t…we didn’t do that.”
Mirari blinked. “He will wait until the black moon?”
Black moon?
“I don’t know,” I answered, because it was the easiest answer to give. Arokan had told me little about my purpose there. And what he had told me…scared me.
Yesterday, he’d told me again that I would be his queen, that he would fill my belly with his seed and get me heavy with his heirs.
He must think that humans and Dakkari could procreate. Was that my purpose? To be his breeder? Why didn’t he sire heirs on a Dakkari female? Surely that would be easier.
Mirari didn’t say anything in reply but she murmured something in Dakkari to Lavi, who stood and left the tent.
“Do the Dakkari often take humans from their settlements?” I asked softly.
Mirari jerked her head to look at me.
“You speak the universal tongue,” I commented. “So do others. For what purpose other than to speak to us?”
“To communicate,” Mirari said, as if it were obvious. “Most who have lived in Dothik can speak it. It is not just humans who live on Dakkar now. Even beyond our planet, the language is useful.”
“Dothik?” I asked.
“Our capital. Where the Dothikkar lives, our king.”
My lips parted. “I thought the horde kings ruled over your lands.”
“They do,” Mirari replied. “The Dothikkar stays in the capital. He handles…other matters, political matters. Our king was born into his rank. The Vorakkars earn it. They are our protectors and providers, celebrated kings in their own right.”