Bitterness twisted within me.
“You think I do not wish the same,kalles?” I rasped. “As you said, you must make amends in your soul…and move forward.”
Chapter Twelve
Gold streaks shimmered through the sky as the sun descended. It was something I’d missed seeing. Under the Dead Mountain, I’d been cut off from the sky, from the earth.
Sparkling, wispy trails floated and danced above us, like they were celebrating the setting of the sun, the end of another day. It was a phenomenon that happened rarely.
It was beautiful. Breathtaking. I was all too aware of the horde king’s eyes on me as I tilted my face back to watch the tendrils glimmer and shift, catching the rays of the golden sun. Soon, I would be back under the Dead Mountain. Soon, the sky would be taken from me once more, so I might as well enjoy it while I could. Even if his red gaze made the back of my neck prickle.
In my periphery, I saw the forest looming to our left. The darkness of it made me anxious. The Ghertun called it the Dead Forest because of the creatures that lurked there. Because any Ghertun that entered it never returned.
So, when the Mad Horde King steered hispyrokitowards the edge, I said, “Please, I don’t want to go in there.”
He said nothing, as if I hadn’t spoken at all, and soon I was craning my neck up to look at the line of trees that guarded its entrance. The glimmering, shifting waves of the sunset were soon blocked out by the shadowed canopy of their vine-laden branches.
“Kakkari writes our destinies before we are ever born into this world,” came his voice. It was…surprisingly soft. “You should not be so afraid all the time.”
I swallowed. I didn’t think I believed that. Because if that were so, Kakkari was a cruel goddess. How could I think anything different when she had already written my father’s death, my grandmother’s death, both of whom had only given their love to their family? What of the countless deaths of our villagers? They’d been senseless, gruesome murders. Or of the terrible things that my sister had to endure at the hands of her Ghertunsibi?
“You think if I’m meant to die today, then nothing I do will matter?” I questioned.
“Lysi,” was his clipped response.
I was strangely annoyed,hurteven, by the sentiment. Those emotions loosened my tongue and I asked, “Then how do you think Kakkariwroteyourend?”
He chuffed out a breath, the arm that braced my back tightening. “Most likely in battle.”
“Because you were born for bloodshed and war?”
His red gaze flashed down to me. I didn’t expect the delight in his gaze. The malice there.
“Lysi,” he purred. “Why else would I be in this world?”
“You think you’re only a killer?”
He grunted but didn’t reply.
“And yet, you are a leader,” I said softly. “AVorakkar.If you were only meant to kill, why would Kakkari not have simply made you a warrior? Why craft you into a king?”
I didn’t need to use my gift to know that my words struck him. His jaw tightened. His eyes flashed.
He growled, “You know nothing,vekkiri.”
I didn’t understand him. Not at all.
Below us, hispyrokistilled.
The horde king froze.
My heart rate suddenly ticked up, my spine tingling. Danger? Unconsciously, my hand curled around the furs of his cloak, pressing closer to his body.
“Be very still,” he rasped into my ear. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his hand go to the hilt of his sword.
“What is it?” I whispered, hardly daring to breathe.
“Jrikkiapack.”
