My head went foggy as he continued his caress over my other nipple but when I tried to squirm away, his tail wrapped around my waist, holding me fast and firm, surprising me with its strength.
“What…what is that?” I asked, trying to focus.
“I will claim you in the old way, in the old Dakkari tradition,” he told me, which only confused me even more. “You will not be my whore, kalles. You will be my queen.”
Chapter Five
When I woke up the next morning, the horde king was gone.
Emerging from a restless sleep, I felt even more exhausted than I had the night before. And when I shifted my legs, turning over in the wide bed, I hissed. The pain was even more severe as well.
I sat up gingerly, looking around the empty, dark, domed tent. I already knew he was gone, had woken briefly when he’d roused from bed in the early hours of morning, but it didn’t prevent me from scanning the quiet space warily.
When I was convinced I was truly alone, I blew out a small breath, pushing my wild, still-damp hair away from my eyes, my mind replaying the events of last night.
I picked at the fur blanket covering my thinly dressed body.
He’d told me I would be his queen.
His queen.
Not his whore.
Though truthfully, perhaps to the Dakkari, they were one and the same. He still expected access to my body, as evidenced by his admission last night. But he’d also said something about claiming me in the old Dakkari tradition, whatever that meant.
And he hadn’t allowed me to question him afterwards.
After he’d told me I’d be his ‘kassikari,’ he’d brought me to his bed, covered our bodies with the furs, and told me to sleep. I’d been tense, wanting answers, but he remained mute on the subject, had simply laid next to me, his long, bare side touching mine. Then he slept, his breathing evening out in a slow rhythm. Awake one moment and dead to the world in the next.
Now, he was gone.
I had no knowledge of what a horde king of the Dakkar did during the day. Was he gone on another ‘patrol?’ Was he somewhere in camp? Was he raiding another innocent settlement, taking treasures like the ones he had stored in his chests? Was he with one of his other whores?
Questions and more questions piled up in my mind until I thought I would scream. The events of yesterday were finally catching up with me and in the light of day, on the first day of my new life…I felt despair. I felt hopelessness. I longed to see my brother, to walk the quiet road of my village to the head seamstress’ home where I worked, to see the familiar hills just beyond the village gates.
Yet, I was there. Alone, in a domed tent of a horde king, among a people I knew almost nothing about.
Pushing off the furs, I looked down between my thighs and saw they were even redder than the night before, the sensitive skin chaffed and rubbed raw. When I touched the flesh, it stung and I prayed to all the gods and goddesses in the universe that I wouldn’t have to ride one of those beasts again.
It was a blessing in disguise, perhaps, I admitted to myself. After all, the horde king said he wouldn’t demand my body until I healed.
I didn’t know how to take his unexpected reprieve. Begrudgingly, I was thankful for it, though I knew it was only a matter of time before he expected my repayment in full.
I jumped when the tent flap pushed open, my head snapping up.
A female appeared, the one from last night, the one who’d spoken to me. She was followed by the other, the one who had not spoken to me. Both were still dressed in their gray shift dresses, their hair neatly plaited down their backs. One of them balanced a white bone tray, inlaid with gold, filled with small, steaming bowls of fresh meat and broth.
My mouth watered, my stomach growling. I hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning, before Kivan had set our crop field on fire.
Had that only been yesterday? It seemed like weeks ago.
“Come and eat, Missiki,” the Dakkari female said, setting the tray down on a low table near the horde king’s chests. There were no chairs, only cushions on the floor. “Gather your strength.”
Desperate hunger filled me when I eyed the food. Five separate small bowls filled the tray. One bowl held braised meat, another dried meat. One held a creamy, steaming broth that filled the tent with a delicious aroma. Another held some kind of root vegetable and the last was filled with a fluffy grain, a deep purple in color.
It was more food than I’d eaten at once in years. I hadn’t had meat since the Uranian Federation had included it in their rations, but it had ceased two years prior. Fresh meat…I’d never had it. It was a luxury we were not allowed on Dakkar. We were not allowed to hunt their game.
My own mother had died in an attempt to give us fresh meat. We’d been starving and she’d been desperate. The memory of her, lying in the icy snow, mauled but still clinging to life made nausea churn in my gut.
“I’m not hungry,” I said, blocking out that memory, looking away from the food.
The two females exchanged a look. “The Vorakkar will be displeased if you do not eat. You must eat, Missiki.”
“I don’t care,” I said. I knew I was being petulant, but the thought of eating meat, of eating such a lavish meal, when my own brother, my own village, was hungry made me sick.
I’d obviously stumped them because the female changed tactics. “You can eat later. Let us get you dressed.”
For what purpose? I wanted to ask. I might as well stay naked in the horde king’s bed. That was where he wanted me, wasn’t it?
Stop, I told myself. I was sulking, feeling sorry for myself. They were only trying to do what they’d been tasked with. Would they be punished if I didn’t obey?
Nodding, I swallowed the sharp, sore pain that made it difficult to move as I swung my legs over the side of the bed.
“Oh, Missiki,” the female said, her features contorting when she saw the redness between my thighs. In Dakkari, she said something to the other female, who immediately left the tent. “Do you wish to bathe? Will it help?”
My brows furrowed. “I just bathed last night.” It seemed like a lavish waste of water to bathe again so soon. But of course, the Dakkari probably had endless resources at their disposal. It was their planet, after all.
The female frowned but didn’t say anything. Instead, she went to the bundle the other female had been carrying when they’d walked in and unwrapped it.
“This will not irritate your flesh,” she said, holding up a short skirt, followed by a top that looked entirely too short.
My cheeks heated, thinking how revealing the clothing was. “Er, I would prefer the clothes I came in.”
The female scrunched up her nose, blinking. “You want those rags over this?” She shook the top and the gold beads that adorned the front jingled musically. It looked heavy but well-made. I couldn’t imagine how long it took to sew those beads on.
“Yes,” I said bristling. I’d made those ‘rags’ myself, a long time ago.
“They are being cleaned, Missiki,” she said simply. “You must wear this until they are returned.”
I was about to protest but the other female, the silent one, returned with a small jar of a white, milky substance.
“What is that?” I asked warily.