Horror filled me. I cried out, “Kivan, stop!”
Fool, fool, fool! Surely they would kill him now.
“Nik, pyroth!” the horde king ordered his Dakkari when they raised their weapons. They halted immediately, though they didn’t lower them, just simply stopped their advance. The horde king’s hand flashed out, gripping the sword by the edge and he flung it out of my brother’s grasp with ease. He seemed to grow in size, his expression darkening, my brother’s actions yet again an insult to the Dakkari.
I swung on the horde king, stepping between them, holding my hands out in supplication. “P-please. I will go with you now. Please just do not…do not hurt him.”
His nostrils flared wide, but at least his attention was on me, not on my brother.
“Please,” I begged and I had never begged before in my life. I had no pride when it came to my brother, the only family I had left. “Please. Just take me. I promise I will serve you. I will do whatever you want, just do not hurt him.”
Long moments of thick tension lapsed. Even the Dakkari males seemed to wait for their horde king’s decision with bated breath.
He finally growled, “We ride out now.”
Relief made me sag, but my reprieve was short.
In one swift movement, all the Dakkari sheathed their gold blades as the horde king turned back towards the entrance. My lips parted when I saw the scars across his back, as if he’d been whipped. Brutally.
“Come now,” he barked over his shoulder and halted, waiting for me.
Kivan stood, still encircled by the Dakkari, frozen from shock, fear, disbelief. I went to him, embracing him, which I never did.
Softly, I whispered, “I will see you again. I promise.”
His arms were still at his sides. He didn’t want to accept this, but I wished he would return my embrace.
“Come,” the horde king commanded again. My heart squeezed in my chest, tears burning my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.
“Go inside,” I said finally, pulling back. “Be safe, Kivan.”
I looked at him, one last time, saw that his pupils were dilated, his face pale. He was in shock. I turned away before I started crying. I had to be strong now. For him. And for myself.
Halting just behind the horde king, I saw him look at me before ordering, “Vir drak!”
His Dakkari fell away from Kivan, the messenger falling into place beside him. We walked down the village road, their footsteps vibrating the ground beneath me. In a state of shock, I followed, clutching my ripped cloak around me, as if it would protect me like a shield from what was happening. I caught sight of a few faces peeking out from windows of homes we passed, usually small children before their mothers ripped them away. Otherwise, the village was drenched in night and darkness.
The entrance of the village, the only place I’d ever known, was in sight. I saw Polin standing there, watching with narrowed eyes. That was when I heard Kivan shout, “Luna! Luna, no!”
I looked over my shoulder, saw my brother running towards the Dakkari. Looking back to Polin, I pleaded, “Take him! Take him away!”
Polin didn’t move.
Desperation rose in my throat and I cried out, “You owe me, Polin. You owe it to me! Now take him back inside!”
Something came over Polin’s face. The horde never stopped moving, despite my outburst, despite the horde king looking back at me with an unreadable expression in those yellow-rimmed eyes.
Finally, Polin slid past the Dakkari, careful not to step in their path, and moved to intercept Kivan. Despite Polin’s age, he was still stronger and larger than my brother and managed to hold him back. I heard my brother’s struggles, however, the way he called after me, his voice clogged with tears and fury and sadness. It would always haunt me, I knew.
The entrance gates creaked open when the messenger pushed them aside roughly. And waiting at the entrance were the black-scaled beasts of my nightmares.
The Dakkari slid around me, each going to their respective monster, except for the horde king. He appeared at my side, grasping me around my waist and leading me over to the only creature that remained without a rider.
I knew it was his. It was by far the largest, most battle-worn beast of all of them. It was standing on all four of its legs, which were tipped in sharp, talon-like black claws. Its scales were painted in thin gold strips, looping up and around in the Dakkari way, similar to the tattoos adorning the horde king’s flesh. Also like its master, the beast had a plethora of scars—across its sides, the front of its legs, around its tall, thick neck.
And its eyes…they were red. A blood red. Like blood on ice. Like my mother’s blood.
Panic began to rise in my belly and I stumbled away from the beast, though the horde king’s chest prevented me from going anywhere. He stood behind me, a wall of unmovable strength.
He didn’t give me a choice. He gripped me around my waist, hauled me up high like I weighed nothing, and settled me on the back of the monster, my legs dangling over both sides of its massive, cold body.
It felt like a rock underneath me and when it shifted on its feet, I felt its tendons and muscles flex too. When I started to slide off, I placed my hands at the base of its neck, though the cool touch of its scales made me want to recoil in horror.
The horde king swung up behind me a moment later, not allowing me time to adjust. He scooted forward, until I was wedged between his strong thighs, until his groin was pressed against my lower back. The heat of him and how much stronger he was than I registered.
Strong, tanned hands appeared in front of me, grasping onto the thin, gold, metal chains that secured around the beast’s snout, looping up around its neck. The horde king fisted them in one hand and used the other to press against my belly, anchoring me to him.
I refused to cry out when he made a sound in the back of his throat, which set the beast into motion. Swallowing my panic, I held on as best as I could as it jolted in a high-speed run. I felt the horde king’s thighs tense around me, bracing, obviously comfortable being on the back of it.
But I was not. I didn’t think I ever would be.
That hand pressed tighter into my belly. It was so large that I felt it span across my ribs. I knew it wouldn’t be the last time those hands were on me.
My face burned, my throat tightened. I stared at the empty darkness of Dakkar in front of me, framed by the beast’s long, pointed ears, at the empty, wild lands beyond my village that not many dared to venture into.
What had I done? What would my life be like from this moment forward?
I’d sold myself to a horde king of Dakkar to save my brother’s life. I’d sold myself to a horde king to serve him…as his human whore.
That knowledge sunk in.
It sunk in deep and festered.
Chapter Three
It seemed like hours until I spied lights in the distance.
An encampment, I realized, as we drew closer and closer.
The moon was already sinking into the star-speckled night sky. It had to be the early hours of morning and though I was exhausted from the day’s events, I hadn’t been able to relax or sleep. The jostling, rough movements of the black-scaled beast had ensured my discomfort and it had been hours since I could feel my legs or my backside. Surely I would be bruised in the morning.
The camp was mostly quiet once we reached the perimeter, but I spied many Dakkari males still awake, huddled around tall, gilded cauldrons of fire. The Dakkari didn’t believe in burning the earth, but seeing that enclosed fire made my belly churn. I never wanted to see fire again.