The Horde King of Shadow (Hordes of the Elthika #1)

Chapter 41

KLARA

I got dressed as Sarkin watched me, leaning against a nearby boulder next to a thick tree as big as a thalara trunk. He hadn’t taken off a single stitch of clothing during our lovemaking, the erotic thrill of that surprising as I smoothed my nightdress in place and shoved my feet back into my boots.

My body was humming with life from the memory of his touch.

But he was upset with me and he was demanding his explanation. Our lovemaking had perhaps softened his ire, but it wasn’t gone completely. I thought he might even be hurt by what I’d done. Which, yes, was understandable. I’d stolen his cuff and his dragon…all to claim an Elthika he’d asked me explicitly not to choose.

At my wrist, I unlatched the rider’s cuff and approached my husband. I reached for his wrist, sliding it over and replacing it where it belonged. I fastened the latch tight and then intertwined our fingers.

I brought our hands up and brushed my lips back and forth over his knuckles, thinking how best to explain. He watched me all the while, a dark curling lock of hair dipping low over his multicolored eyes.

“I won’t be a source of shame for you,” I finally said.

His brows furrowed. “What?”

“What your father did…” I began, sighing, “even though his heart was in the right place, his actions haunted you and followed you for so many years. You were challenged relentlessly. Even before I knew about what happened with your father and Tyzar…I know how important it was for the horde to accept me as one of their own. I was already an outsider—a Dakkari from across the sea. But to be an outsider who couldn’t claim an Elthika? To the Sarrothian, that was unacceptable.”

“And I told you,” Sarkin growled, “I didn’t care what they thought. I gave you the choice to claim an Elthika or not. Me. Not them. If you didn’t want to go through with the illa’rosh , I would’ve brought you back down myself that morning without a second thought.”

“It was more than that though, Sarkin,” I breathed, getting frustrated because he wasn’t understanding what I was trying to say.

“Then tell me.”

“I needed to prove to myself that I was worthy to claim an Elthika of my own!” I exclaimed, feeling my throat tighten. “I needed to prove it to myself and to you. That I was worthy to stand by your side in the eyes of your horde.”

His jaw tightened, his eyes flashing. He looked like he wanted to argue, but I brushed my other hand across his lips to silence whatever it was he was about to say.

“Ever since my mother died, I’ve felt like an outsider. Long before I ever came to Karak. I know what it feels like to be dismissed. Overlooked. I know what it feels like to be whispered about, for others to judge your worth before you ever even speak to them,” I said, thinking about all the years living in my father’s palace. Dannik had tried to shield me, but he’d only been able to do so much. “Then I came here, and I was on trial all over again in the eyes of your people. I will not live my life here feeling as I always have. I will not be ignored. I will not be made to feel small. And so, I would have been back at the Tharken cliffs, year after year, if that was what it took to prove myself. I needed to believe that. I needed you to believe that too. Your horde is your everything, Sarkin. I couldn’t disappoint you because it would’ve been a disappointment to myself.”

“You’re my everything now, you fool,” he said simply, so nonchalantly that for a second I thought I hadn’t heard him right. “Can’t you see that?”

I blinked. “What?”

Sarkin scrubbed his hand over his face. He looked tired , I realized. The first time I’d ever really seen him this tired. Worn.

“I felt fear today that I haven’t felt— ever ,” he confessed, those eyes burning into mine as the words dripped from his tongue. “Seeing you on that ledge, I was faced with the possibility that I couldn’t save you if something went wrong.”

“But I?—”

“No, now it’s my turn,” he rasped. I bit my tongue. “You scared me today, Klara. Scared me to the point that I was confronted with a reality in which I could lose you. And that frightened me. More than anything ever has.”

My heart went fluttery and heavy all at once. “Really?”

“I felt so fucking helpless ,” he said gruffly, raking his hand through his tousled hair. “This morning, I realized that you’ve somehow managed to steal this cold, shriveled thing I call my heart…just like you stole my Elthika, you little thief.”

I thought it inappropriate to smile, but he sounded so damned grumpy about it that I couldn’t help the small one that slipped.

“Really?” I whispered, my eyes going watery.

Sarkin closed his eyes, breathing in deeply. I watched them shift beneath his lids, going back and forth, and I reached forward to place my other hand on the center of his chest. To my surprise, his heart was rapid, a pounding drum beneath my palm.

“Zaridan would do whatever you asked of her,” he finally said. His eyes flashed open to regard me. “And I would too.”

A bloom of realization, soft and gentle, spread like warmth from a fire. Something I’d only ever dared to wish for.

“You love me,” I declared.

He inclined his head. “On Muron, I do. I love you, aralye .”

I grinned, feeling like sparks of joy were sizzling in every vein of my body. Sarkin might never be the type of male to express exactly what he felt. He was a Sarrothian, after all. A king. He could be brooding and detached, internalizing many of his emotions—out of necessity and stemming from his old wounds. But he could also be passionate and sensually bold. Cutting yet charming. They were all the facets that made him who he was, and I wouldn’t change it for anything.

“I love you too,” I breathed, smiling though my vision blurred, “in case it wasn’t completely obvious.”

I reached up to wind my arms around his neck. He was comforting and warm, a solid presence against me and an unyielding pillar of support. How could I not have fallen in love with him?

He breathed in deeply, embracing me back.

“I should’ve listened to you, Klara,” he said softly. “When you told me about Lygath.”

I pulled back so I could meet his eyes. “Please know this, Sarkin. I would have never risked my life, knowing how you would feel, if I believed Lygath would reject me again. I wouldn’t do that to you. I was as certain about him as I am about you.”

“How did you know?” he asked.

“I found Lygath in my dreams. Early this morning. He was in the meadow where we watched the starfall. I think he might’ve seen us there, that night. I think he called me to him, leading me there, like a beacon.”

“You can dream walk,” he said. There was a prick of awe in his tone.

I swallowed. “It’s possible. My ancestor, Vienne…she could speak to others in her dreams, even if they were dead. She saw things. It’s possible part of her gift is now mine, passed down through bloodlines.”

“And what happened with Lygath?”

“I just talked to him,” I said. “He was so…lonely. He’s not vengeful or full of rage. He’s sad . He felt the bond though. He started to give me his sy’asha . I knew what I had to do after you told me about your father. I was never going to rest until I could be seen as an equal in your horde’s eyes. And Lygath gave me that gift of a bond. He’d already made his choice when he came to Tharken. So, you see, I was never in any danger.”

He brought his forehead to mine. “Never sneak away like that again, Klara. Please. I should’ve listened to you, yes. You felt you couldn’t tell me what you needed to do, and I will forever feel the guilt of that. But from now on, we never hide anything from each other. Lysi? ”

I didn’t like that he felt guilty , but I knew that he wouldn’t hear otherwise. And so, I nodded against him. I pressed a kiss to his lips.

“ Lysi, ” I whispered in agreement. “That I can promise you.”

His relief was palpable.

“Sarkin?” I murmured.

“Hmm?”

“ Lo rune tei’ri, ” I said, meeting his eyes, seeing all the strings of different colors in them. Greens and golds and browns. My heart was beating out of its chest as I grinned. “It means I am yours in Dakkari.”

He started to chuckle, the sound like a reward in itself, but then an Elthika swooped low overhead, a loud roar shaking the forest, making us part.

Sarkin frowned up at the canopy.

“A rider?” I asked, turning to track the dragon. It was a glittering deep red in color, unlike any I’d ever seen even after the illa’rosh .

“A Karath . From Grym,” Sarkin corrected. “That’s Samryn, his Elthika.”

“Another Karath ?” I breathed.

“Likely here to congratulate you, my Sorrina. It’s not every illa’rosh a Vyrin is claimed,” he said. And it made everything in me sing to hear that small thread of quiet pride in his voice, despite his complicated history with Lygath. “Come. We should return to meet him. Oh, and Klara?”

“Yes?”

“ Lo rune tei’ri, ” he repeated, brushing his lips against the sensitive shell of my ear as he whispered the words. A shiver raced down my spine. He sealed his words with a kiss at my temple.

I thought my face would crack apart with my smile as he took my hand. I made sure all my clothing was in place before we ventured from the forest. I was acutely aware that I still had Sarkin’s release inside me and that we both looked a little worse for wear. But it couldn’t be helped.

And I was too deliriously happy to care.

When we emerged from the forest long moments later, I saw the red Elthika—blood red, human -blood red—perched on the landing space. He was even bigger than Zaridan, and I couldn’t help but notice that the Sarrothian kept their distance even though the Karath appeared to have come alone. I couldn’t see him from this angle, for his Elthika’s head was shielding him from view, but when Sarkin pulled me forward, I saw him sitting on dragonback, waiting.

I only got the impression that he was an imposing figure, spying a flash of silvery-gray hair before he was sliding off his Elthika, landing onto the stone in a crouch before rising.

Then he approached, and I felt the rake of his gaze over me, sizing me up. Perhaps he’d never seen a Dakkari before, unless he’d been one of the Karaths on patrol in our homeland.

My first impression had been correct—he was imposing. He appeared only slightly older than Sarkin, and he sported a silver scar that almost matched his hair, curving down his sharp jaw and onto his neck. Human hair silvered and grayed like that with age, but he wasn’t physically old by any means—though the glint in his eyes belied a soul that struck me as ancient .

Eyes that were piercing blue, like the glow of a powerful heartstone.

He stopped in front of me, and I had to crane my neck to look up at him.

“ Sorrina ,” he murmured in greeting. “I have come to pay the respects of the Gryms as we congratulate you on your claiming of Lygath.” The edge of one lip curled, and he never took his eyes off me, despite Sarkin edging forward. “You must be a fearsome creature to claim such a Vyrin, Klara Dirak’zar.”

I swallowed, my tongue heavy in my mouth. He was intimidating and slightly cutting, just as Sarkin had been. I couldn’t get a read on him, and so I settled on what I had always done when meeting members of my father’s court, who I knew were trying to get a read on me.

I smiled. Soft but detached.

“ Kakkira vor, ” I said in Dakkari. Thank you. “You know my name.”

“Of course,” he said. “You have been the topic of much conversation for quite some time among all of the Karag.” His eyes flickered to Sarkin. “Even in Elysom.”

I was still on a high of claiming Lygath, of knowing that Sarkin loved me. Nothing would dull it, not even this male.

“Then I feel like I’m at a disadvantage because I don’t know your name, Karath ,” I replied.

The edge of his lip curled, the side that held his scar.

“I am Alaryk Arn’dyne, rider of Samryn,” he said, stepping away so that I could meet his Elthika’s vibrant red gaze, nearly stealing my breath, “and the Karath of Grym.”

To the east, I knew. The territory that shared a border with the Hartans, if I was remembering correctly. Where the last war had taken place.

The Karag were onto something that the Dakkari didn’t yet realize.

Names should be feared, not hidden. And this Karath had a fearsome one, just like my husband.

“Alaryk Arn’dyne, I’m pleased to meet you,” I replied. My eyes went behind him, and I added, “And your Elthika, Samryn.”

“Our horde is departing soon,” he said, his gaze going to Sarkin. “But there is another matter I had wished to discuss with you. I met with a messenger from Elysom shortly before we departed for Tharken.”

I thought I knew what that message pertained.

Sarkin jerked his head further toward the forest, highly aware of the eyes of his own horde, ever watchful. We went to a more private place, and when we were out of earshot and protected by Samryn should anyone venture too closely, Alaryk asked, “Is it true that there is a living thalara tree in Dakkar?”

Sarkin gestured to me. Alaryk’s responding gaze was piercing.

“Yes, I saw it,” I said quietly. Alaryk’s brows lowered. “I have a gift of heartstone magic, through my bloodlines of Rath Drokka and Rath Serok. I saw a thalara tree deep in one of our forests. I believe I know where it is. It’s near where we used to call the Dead Lands.”

Alaryk’s shoulders raised with his deep inhale. He looked back to Sarkin. “You are making plans to ride to Dakkar?”

We hadn’t talked about it, but even I looked to Sarkin. I knew he’d been flying to Elysom prior to the illa’rosh , to discuss plans with the council on how best to approach the negotiations with my father. I knew that time was working against us, but I’d been so consumed with the illa’rosh that it nearly slipped my mind entirely these last few days.

“Yes,” he replied, casting me a look when he reached down to take my palm. “We are both going. Along with a few Elysom council members and some of my trusted riders.”

My breath hitched. Hope too. I would see my home again. My brother.

“I’ll be joining you,” Alaryk declared.

Sarkin’s nostrils flared. “Given the delicate nature with our relations with the Dakkari, I think it would be best to keep the rider horde small.”

“I’ll get Elysom’s approval,” Alaryk said, easy arrogance—or perhaps confidence—pouring from the soft words. “I wanted to let you know my intentions in person.”

Sarkin scoffed. But then he smirked. I couldn’t tell if they were friends or not, if they liked one another or not, if there was a history here. But like most kings, they didn’t like others to overstep into their territories. And that was exactly what this Karath was doing.

“The Hartans are getting restless again,” Alaryk informed Sarkin. “I thought you should know because we’re both aware of how secretive Elysom likes to be about these matters.”

My husband stilled. “The council knows?”

“Yes,” he said. “My spies inform me that the Hartans have heard rumblings of heartstones, rumors from across the sea. They know that Dakkar has them. My interests in going with you are to ensure that Grym is not overlooked in these negotiations, especially since it is my territory and my riders who have defended the border since the war. At great cost to us.”

“I know,” Sarkin said. “My intention was never to cut you out. Especially you, Alaryk. You know that.”

“You’ll forgive me if I will still demand to be there,” the Karath said. “You would do the same, if the situation was reversed.”

Sarkin was quiet. Then said, “I would.”

“When do you leave?”

Sarkin cast me a brief look. Then he said to Alaryk, “We will wait for you. We are still in the Arsadia. Meet us at Rysar in a few days. We’ll make the flight to Dakkar together.”

Alaryk stepped forward, extending his arm. I watched as Sarkin clasped his forearm, bringing them close. “I’ll be there.”

Then the Karath of Grym stepped back. He looked to me. His chin lowered. “ Sorrina. ”

“ Karath, ” I said back.

His lips lifted again, his eyes tracing over me.

He sees more than most, came the thought. Did he have heartstone magic too? I couldn’t decide.

Then he was walking back toward his Elthika, leaving nearly as quickly as he’d come.

Sarkin asked, “I should have told you. About Dakkar.”

“I didn’t ask,” I said, looking at him. Even in front of his horde—because I could still feel their eyes—he cupped my face in between his palms, tipping my chin up so I could meet his eyes fully. “I’d been a little nervous about the illa’rosh ,” I admitted.

“I didn’t want to distract you,” he admitted. “But we decided at the last meeting in Elysom.”

“And I can go?” I asked, wanting to be sure.

Sarkin’s lips quirked. “Like you would have stayed behind, aralye ?”

“Good point.”

“You’ll take Lygath. Your first flight. To show him your homeland.”

My lips parted. “It doesn’t… Lygath won’t…”

“What is it?” he asked, brows furrowing.

“After Haden…” I said. Realization dawned over his expression, a frown dropping into place. “I didn’t know how you felt about Lygath being among the horde now.”

“Whatever came before…it happened. I cannot change it. And so we must start new. We have to. That is also a choice, and it is one that I have already decided I will make. For us. For you.”

I love him, I thought quietly. The sacrifice he was willing to make for me pulled at my chest.

Then his expression changed. A flash of sadness.

“I just realized that Haden has been gone for more years than I ever even knew him. Isn’t that strange?” Sarkin asked.

“People come into your life, and they change you forever,” I said. “It doesn’t matter how long you knew them—they’ll always be there.”

Just like Sarkin would always be with me.

For evermore.