“The rest of the women have other duties,” Benn said. “Most of them are on the hunt, regardless. I forbid Tess from going near him. And I don’t think you want Kaila going near him either, do you, Emmi?”
Emmi’s lips pressed together tight at the sound of his lover’s name. His pregnant lover. He looked at me…and then looked away, down the darkened hallway, acknowledging Benn’s words without saying anything.
My wild eyes met Jacques’. His lips parted before he raked a hand through his greying hair. “I’ll look after him, Benn. The women shouldn’t be so close to him anyways and—”
Benn stepped towards Jacques, cutting off his words abruptly. Though Jacques was only a few years older than Benn, he was no match for his height and strength.
“I say thatshegoes to him,” Benn said softly, the quiet words deadlier than any curse or shout. Jacques’ jaw clenched. “And if he kills her, then that’s one less mouth to feed.”
“And what about her immunity to the fog?” Jacques asked. I was surprised he dared to speak again. “We might need her again.”
“You were perfectly fine with letting her walk right up to the horde king not long ago. We wereallfine with it. He could have killed her in a single moment. So what’s changed now?” Benn asked, opening his arms wide, his face taking on an expression of careful confusion. The tip of the horde king’s sword dragged across the stone, making a scratching sound that made my spine tingle. “She’s expendable. The other women are more valuable to us than she is. And soon, the fog will be gone, so what use is she really?”
Jacques didn’t speak again. He didn’t look at me again, while I still stood trembling.
The confusion dropped as suddenly as it arrived on his features and Benn grinned, clapping Jacques on the shoulder. “It’s settled then.”
My fist clenched again.
“Come, Tess,” Benn barked out, sliding his arm around her waist and pulling her against his side. He started down the long hallway, the one that led to a short flight of narrow stairs, down to where he’d claimed his private quarters. “Alert me when the horde king wakes,” he tossed over his shoulder to the rest of the men.
Tess held my eyes for a brief moment but then she left with Benn, turning her back. I was rooted in place as silence stretched, long and thick. Then my feet were moving. Jacques’ head turned to watch as I moved to the threshold of the door.
And there he was. Stretched out on the cold slab of stone in the center of the room, the horde king lay. He was on his side, his hands cuffed and pulled over his head, leading to a single, short chain attached to the chiseled loop in the stone. As thick as it was, I wondered if he could break the carved loop. Because the Dakkari witch assured us the metal chains were unbreakable, but what about the stone?
For good measure, his feet were cuffed too, though they were not attached to the slab like his hands were. He would still be able to stand, to move around, though not far given the short leash of the chain.
Long black hair obscured most of his face from view but I shivered remembering his features in my mind’s eye. Glowing red eyes, high cheekbones so sharp that I wondered if they could cut like a blade, a broad nose which gave way to a serious, full, wide mouth.
His massive body, constructed with thick slabs of muscle, was one made for war, for violence. I remembered looking up at him when we were surrounded by the fog. I remembered thinking that he seemed like the mountain ranges that dotted this land, unmovable and endless and unforgiving.
Darkly handsome and grimly beautiful in a way I hadn’t expected, he’d stolen my breath straight from my lungs. I’d never seen a Dakkari male up close before, much less a horde king. And I could understand whythismale had been given such a title of power over the others.
I watched his chest rise and fall and I felt a strange sense of relief course through me. Only until I saw the state of his legs. He was wearing a black hide tunic that covered the bulk of his chest but his legs were bare, his lower region covered with a long, triangular fur cloth that hung to his knees, tied around his hips with a thick, woven strap.
When the men carried him towards the Dead Mountain, his legs had been dragging on the ground, scraping against rock and debris. From his knees to his booted feet, the skin was broken and ravaged, black with blood and smeared with the brown, clay-like dirt that stretched across the east.
I couldn’t refuse Benn’s order. That I knew. Even as certainly as I knew that the horde king might try to kill me once he woke.
“I will make you regret this,sarkia.I swear it on Kakkari,” he’d told me. A vow. An unshakeable promise. The words had been soft yet dangerous. I’d heard his roar of outrage and fury when he realized that I’d led him towards the others. He’d told me he would keep me safe—words that nearly made me cry, that filled my breast with such longing and grief—and in the end, I’d betrayed him without hesitation.
Thatglare—filled with his derision and hatred and sudden understanding—would haunt me even in sleep.
I didn’t know him. He didn’t know me. So why did it feel like I did?
I set my jaw.
I turned from the room, making for the upper levels where a well of water still ran, clear and full. I felt Jacques’ gaze on my back as I left.
The horde king’s wounds needed tending.
And I better tend them before he wakes, I knew.
Chapter Six
When I came awake, I swore I could smell the scent of the northlands. The icy, unforgiving land where I’d been born, where I’d grown. The northlands that had nourished me whilst also taking from me.
I swore I could smell the land—the crisp air that seemed to spear one’s lungs—just after a storm. The violent pellets of rain that released a fragrance, perfuming the air with a refreshing scent ofluriablooms and the musky smell ofkenuvoils.
