My council met as the sun dipped low. I had another sparring session afterwards with Valavik, testing the new weapons that themitricrafted, strong and durable blades. Then I checked on thedarukkarsstationed at the fog once more, though they had nothing to report.
The day was long. As were the days of aVorakkar.
Finally, when I could avoid her no longer, as the smallest sliver of a moon guided my path, I began the short trek back to myvoliki.
My temper was short this night but I vowed to myself that I would not take it out on her. She did not deserve it. And I had much to be sorry for already.
Only, when myvolikicame into view, I could see from that short distance that it was dark. No smoke floated out from the venting hole. No glow from within illuminated it. And no guard was stationed outside it.
Worry and fear pricked my insides but I told myself not to be alarmed. I strode up the short incline and ripped back the flaps.
Darkness. The bed had been remade with fresh furs but no bath had been drawn. Therewasa small fire in the basin but it smoldered pitifully. A tray of food sat on the table—how long had I been away?—but it was cold and untouched.
Mina was nowhere to be seen.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Iwas woken suddenly and I gasped, my heart thundering in my chest. Pulled straight from a dream.No, a memory. I swore I could still smell the lingerings of smoke as my village burned but I realized it was only the fire still roaring in the basin.
“What thevokare you doing in here?” came Rowin’s voice. Because he was Rowin to me right then, cold and angry, as he crouched low beside my sleeping pallet. He’d shaken me awake, though I hadn’t heard him enter thevoliki.
For a moment, I was bewildered. The dream had been so real that I felt I should have woken in the northlands. That I should have woken to darkness and the sound of sobbing and the bitter softness of ash on my tongue.
“W-what?” I whispered, blinking.
“What are you doing in here?” he asked again, his voice low but clipped.
Then I remembered. Hukri had tried to convince me not to sleep in the council’svoliki. She’d worried her lip even as I ate my meal at a table filled with more maps and notes scribbled in words I couldn’t read. She’d refused to translate the words for me, however, saying it was the council’s business and no one else’s.
“You’re angry?” I asked, struggling to sit up, feeling a dull throbbing coming from my wrists, which I remembered were now marked in swirling golden lines that Hukrihadtranslated for me.
They were names. Ancestral names of Rowin’s family. Some of them were evenVorakkarsandMorakkaris. He came from a line of horde kings, though that hadn’t surprised me.
And my own name had been added beside his.
On my left wrist was a vow.Hisvow. A vow to protect me and honor me. A promise that together, we would lead the horde of Rath Rowin to prosperity and longevity. Though, Hukri had explained that the Dakkari word for longevityalso had a dual meaning forfertility.
I’d been dumbstruck for a brief moment. Because for the first time, I’d given thought tochildren. I’d been surprised by the longing, how sudden and intense it was, but then I thought of Wrune’s coldness. I tried to imagine him as a father, alovingfather, as mine had been…and I couldn’t. Despite the heat and passion of the night before, Wrune was driven only by duty to his horde. I couldn’t imagine loving him, or what that might even feel like.
But would he love his own children?
Especially if they were also mine?
He still called me a witch, after all.
Looking at him now, all those feelings came bursting back to life. Hewasangry. His expression was icy and his eyes were narrowed on me.
“I thought you would want this,” I told him, still clearing the blurry remnants of my dream from my mind.
“And why would I want theMorakkariof my horde sleeping on the floor in avolikithat is not my own?” he asked.
“You left last night,” I told him. “You should be able to sleep in your own bed. I don’t want to intrude.”
A low laugh escaped him. The sound would have been beautiful, soft and husky, had it not been filled with a subtle darkness.
“Or perhaps you do not want to sleep in my bed because you fear my attentions now,” he said. “It is aMorakkari’sduty. To satisfy herVorakkar.”
My lips parted. Hot anger rose. Now he was just trying to get a rise out of me because even I knew he had no such expectations of me.
