All of my fears had come true. I’d liked it. And now I was changed because of it.
Arokan gently stroked my body, gently washed between my thighs until I was cleaned of the evidence of our mating.
“What happens now?” I whispered, feeling confused and strangely on the verge of tears because of how gentle he was being. I could handle it if he was rough or cold with me, but this Arokan…this male I couldn’t handle.
Arokan didn’t answer me. He just continued to wash my body, threading his fingers through my hair. Finally, he undid the heavy necklace, massaging the marks it made against my neck, and tossed it to the floor of the tent.
When the water began to cool, he carried me out and dried off my body. He went to the chests on the far wall of the tent, but then hesitated. Instead, he grabbed the pants and tunic I’d made and helped me dress in them.
I was more thankful for that than he probably realized. When I was bathed and dressed in my familiar clothes, I felt like I could breathe again.
“We will get new markings this day,” he told me, his voice rumbling out as he pulled on a fresh pair of pants that looked to be made of leather, molding to his thick, muscular thighs. The golden cuffs around his wrists gleamed as he tied the laces.
“Markings?” I asked, eyeing him with trepidation.
He approached me and my breath went a little shallow when he tilted my chin up to look at him. For a moment, I thought he would kiss me again, like he had last night.
But he didn’t. I wasn’t sure whether I was disappointed or relieved by that, which disturbed me.
He only looked at me, in a way that made me feel vulnerable and exposed. Like he could see all my darkest thoughts, all my regrets written on my very bones.
Finally, his hands came to grip my wrists. “You will get yours here. You will receive the markings of my line. Of Rath Kitala. For you are of them now and all of our offspring will be of them too.”
Realization hit me. My eyes darted to his chest, his arms, tracing the swirling, golden lines, a beautiful pattern over his flesh.
Tattoos.
I felt the pressure of his grip around my wrists and thought that my markings would reflect his golden cuffs. A symbol.
The queen’s symbol.
Swallowing the thick lump in my throat, I didn’t voice the doubts in my head. What did I know about the Dakkari? Hardly anything. What did I know about being their queen, about being the queen to a horde king?
Nothing at all.
I felt like an imposter already but receiving the markings would make me feel even more like one. Even more out of my element, further removed from my past life.
Last night, Arokan revealed he thought me strong and brave and loyal. His words had touched something in me, soothed something in me.
I wanted to be strong. But it was more than that because I realized Ihadto be. There was no room for cowardice. Not there. Not in a Dakkari camp.
So, I nodded. I said, “I’m ready.”
Arokan seemed pleased with that because he brushed his fingers across my cheekbone. Then he led me outside, into the fresh air, into the bright sunlight.
That morning was quiet, as if the majority of the camp was sleeping off their fermented drink from the night before. There were two guards stationed at the tent, like usual, who inclined their heads when we emerged, but Arokan kept moving, kept guiding me deeper into the camp.
Any Dakkari that we came upon inclined their heads, keeping their gazes averted, before scuttling off to do their duties for the day. In no time at all, Arokan stopped us in front of a nondescript tent, no different than any of the others around it.
He called out in Dakkari and a long moment later, an older female emerged.
“Vorakkar,” she greeted, though she seemed put off by the early hour. I watched their exchange with interest, noting that the female didn’t shy away from Arokan’s gaze, not like other members of the camp.
They spoke quickly in Dakkari, rapid words that floated over my head. I wondered if there would come a time when I would understand the language in its entirety.
Not likely, I thought.
Finally, the older female looked at me. Lips pressed together, she looked over me, from head-to-toe, before inclining her head and said, “Morakkari. You have come for your markings.”
