Broken by the Horde King (Horde Kings of Dakkar #4) - Zoey Draven Page 0,3

in place, even though I struggled in his hold.

He grunted when my elbow caught him in the abdomen. Hot embarrassment and a sense of deep betrayal made familiar tears well up in my eyes. Frantic, panicked sounds were bubbling up in my throat. I needed to get away from him before he saw.

“Stop,” he growled, a tone I’d never heard him take with me, catching me by surprise, momentarily stilling my struggles. In that moment, he turned me, holding me in place.

He was tall, even for a Dakkari male. He towered over my smaller frame, completely engulfed my form with his bulk and strength. A sea breeze threaded between us and even still, I could smell my sister on him—she made her own soaps for bathing. Fragrant and floral. I imagined I smelled the same.

“I’m sorry,” he rasped, his voice quiet, but I didn’t look at him. “I know she’s your sister. And you’re my friend, Maeva. I shouldn’t have…”

Friend.

That word unstuck my own.

“Is that all I am to you?” I whispered, my vision blurry, the words sounding pathetic even to my own ears.

His friend. Ever since he’d told me his name, I’d never been far away from him. For seven years, he’d been kind to me. Laru had often scolded me for nipping at his heels, following him around, but he never made me feel unwanted. He made me feel less lonely. He let me near him and his friends and ever since, no one dared to try to make me cry again. I felt protected, I felt safe when I was with him.

That was when I had the courage to look up. My question made him frown, made discomfort cross his features, while I waited with dread curling in my belly.

Finally, he murmured, “You know I care for you, Maeva. I always have.”

Hope welled up in my breast and a small smile lifted my lips.

“But you’re young,” he rumbled, holding my gaze, his words firm. “I want you to understand that. You’re young, Maeva. There is much that still awaits you. There is much to learn and experience from this life. The same for me as well.”

I shook my head, deaf to his words. “So when I’m older, you might come to care for me the way you care for Laru? When I’m of age?”

The edge of his jaw ticked. He seemed impatient with me at first, his eyes going over my head to peer out at Drukkar’s Sea. His eyes always went to the sea, as if he could see something that I couldn’t.

“Maybe,” he finally said, his shoulders sagging a bit even as I felt like I could soar. Suddenly, finding him kissing Laru didn’t seem so terrible. Then he sighed, bringing me into him, embracing me. “I will miss you, seffi. That much I know for certain. As much as I know nothing will ever be the same.”

“I’ll miss you too, Kiran,” I whispered, seeing Laru tentatively come up the hill from the cliff ledge, her face drawn—and guilty—when she saw us.

Looking back on that moment, I could recognize how selfish and single-minded I’d been. Kiran had been on the cusp of a whole new life. He would be leaving home for the unknown, for pain, for anguish, for the Trials. Nothing would ever be easy for him…and I’d been elated that he’d said he could care for me like Laru. That maybe one day, he would want me the way I wanted him.

Then again, I’d been young, just as he’d said…and hopelessly in love with a boy who might never love me back.

Chapter Three

Once, I told my mother that my love for the Rukkar seemed more intense when he was gone. To be young and in love…I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

The days dragged but everything reminded me of him, so I tried to fill my days with things that didn’t. The answer to my restlessness came one afternoon when I heard screaming coming from the mokkira’s home.

There were two healers that served our saruk and the mokkira was the master healer, overseeing them with his combined experience.

That afternoon, I peeked inside, eyes wide, and saw a Dakkari female, one of the seamstresses, giving birth. She’d been due for quite some time.

The mokkira had seen me watching. His face was drawn and the seamstress’s face was pale, leached of color. Her mate was nowhere to be seen and no other healers were present.

“You,” the mokkira barked at me, gesturing over to the water basin