“But Kakkari guided me toyou. Back at the village, Kakkari guided her tome, as if Kakkari knew I would need her, as if I only needed help finding her. And what I found was a pure being, one who still believed in hope, though every last person in her life had failed her.”
Including myself, I thought, my chest squeezing so tight I could barely breathe.
“I found strength with her. I found happiness with her,” I said, swallowing. “And I pushed her away. I hurt her. For the horde, for you. Because I thought it was the right thing to do. Because if you were threatening to leave the horde, to leave me after everything we have been through, then surely I was blind to something you could see. I have always trusted you before.”
“Seerin, itwasthe right decision for the horde,” he said, shaking his head.
“Why do you look so hesitant then?” I rasped. “Why do I feel that it was the biggest mistake of my life?”
He went quiet.
“This will not simply pass,pujerak,” I told him, my shoulders slumping, hearing the truth in my words. I felt the emptiness of them, the stretching emptiness that would only grow as the days passed. Because my soul had left me and all I had left washers. I was tired. So damned tired. “I do not know how long I can do this.”
Two weeks. Two weeks of staying away from hervoliki, though every time I passed it, it was a new challenge to my already-crumbling will. Two weeks of avoiding the training grounds because I knew she worked with themitriin the mornings. Two weeks of looking for her everywhere, of hoping to simply catch a glimpse of her, only to be denied. Two weeks of not seeing her, not touching her, not speaking with her…and it felt like an eternity.
She had not sought me out either. She had avoided me like a plague around the encampment and every day that passed made my need to see her grow and grow.
I had chosen my horde over mythissie. It was a hard thought to stomach, but it was the truth. She would likely never forgive me for it. I knew I would never forgive myself for it, but I’d seen no other way.
Arokan of Rath Kitala had, my mind whispered.He took his chosenMorakkariwith no regard to his council orpujerak. He did it because he is theVorakkarof his horde. He answers to no one but himself.
IwasVorakkarof Rath Tuviri, so why did it feel like I was not? Why was I allowing myself to be controlled by my council, by the elders, by my ownpujerak?
I growled, looking away from Vodan. They’d threatened to leave me. If they left, it was very likely the horde would fall. But did it matter? Without my female, did anything matter? I thought it was the right decision, but now, seeing a future without her in it, all I saw was emptiness. Bleakness.
I need to see her, I thought, my chestburningwith the need. Now that the numbness had lifted, letting harsh, biting, sharp emotions rise in its absence, I could not stop them. They consumed me, eating at me,punishingme.
Was my own failing that I didn’t believe I could run this horde on my own? Was my own failing that I didn’t believe I was worthy to? Because I wasn’t from an ancient family, because I wasn’t raised a certain way, because I believed I was only aVorakkarbecause of my mother?
Nik, I thought, my fists squeezing at my sides.
I was aVorakkarbecause I had survived the Trials. I was aVorakkarbecause I’d taken a hundred lashes over my flesh, more than any otherVorakkarin history. I was aVorakkarbecause I was the right leader for this horde, because I kept them safe, because I defended them when they were in danger, because I had the determination and the will and the strength to do so.
My heart was pounding out a fierce rhythm in my chest as I stared at Vodan.
“I should never have let her go,” I rasped, feeling weakened by the words. It was something I already knew. And I could blame it on the council, on Vodan, but in truth, it wasIthat had ended it. It had been my choice.
Just as it was my choice to risk the horde falling, in favor of mythissie. Because it was nothing less than she deserved.
“I have to see her,” I said. “I have to…”
Fix this? She wouldn’t want to see me. Not after what I’d done.
It didn’t matter. I had to try.
I turned to leave thevoliki, turning my back on mypujerak, my heart pumping strong in my chest—
“She’s gone,” Vodan said, so quietly that I almost didn’t hear him.
My brows furrowed and I whipped around. “Neffar?”
“She left,” he said, his voice strengthening.
I froze, disbelief spreading through me.
“What are you saying?” I asked slowly. “That she’s not among the horde?”
“I thought you sent her away,” he rasped. “I thought…”
