“In Dakkari, it has a similar meaning,” he informed me. His lips twisted briefly before he dragged the goblet towards him again. “My father thought it fitting.”
His father named him? The father he’d told me was buried in the northlands, like my own?
“Why?” I whispered.
He took a healthy swallow from the goblet, pondering my question. Once he was done, he brought it to my own lips again.
The heady, full wine burst on my tongue as he said, “Because my mother died bringing me into this world. Because for her, Iwasruin. For him too.”
My heart froze in my chest at the unexpected confession.
“I—” I licked my lips, feeling a flooding of sympathy at the words. “I’m sorry.”
I’d never known my own mother either. Not truly. She hadn’t died giving me life, but she had died in the year after I was born. She’d always been sick, or so my father had told me. But he’d always told me that I was her ultimate joy. That she’d been blessed to be able to care for me, to love me, if only for a short time.
Which was why I found it so tragic what Rowin—Wrune—had just told me. Because with aname, his father had marked him to always remember her death.
“Let’s not speak of it,” came his gruff voice. “Not this night.”
I swallowed, unsure of how to respond to that. All I could do was nod.
But the simple confession made me realize that I truly knew nothing about the male I now calledhusband.
I knew nothing of his life. How he’d come to beVorakkar. His family. His purpose.
Conflicting emotions warred within me, making my head throb. I realized I could dislike him and like him at the same time. I could hate him for threatening me and in the next moment, my heart could twist for him. He could make me breathless with a single touch, could make me desire him. Though, he could also make me want to scream in frustration.
I’d shocked him with my request for his name.
I knew that. I’d felt it.
And yet, he’d been true to his word. He’d given it to me.
Wrune of Rath Rowin.
Just the name could strike fear in the hearts of his enemies. Of which, I was certain he had many.
His gaze had tilted away from me but I watched him silently. His eyes tracked the members of his horde. His posture was relaxed but I had the distinct impression that he was still aware of everything happening around him. Always alert, always on guard.
I wondered if that was tiring. I wondered if he ever loathed being a horde king of Dakkar. Because I would. I thought I would hate it, having to shoulder the responsibility for a hundred or more beings. Did he ever lose sleep over it?
I will find out, I realized, my lips parting. Tonight, I would be in his bed. And though I wanted to run, though I wanted to find Tess and justleavethis land…I knew that I wouldn’t.
He was right. We had made a deal. And I would keep up my end, if he kept up his. There was no running from this anymore. It was much too late for that.
Anotherbikkuapproached the dais and ascended with the permission of herVorakkar. This time, the tray was laden with food. Neatly arranged and decorated with white blooms, as if the presentation of the food was just as important as eating it. A strange concept but one I’d noticed the last two days whenever my meals were delivered.
“Kakkira vor,” Wrune said and thebikkubowed her head before leaving us.
I didn’t have the courage to face his horde yet, especially when I was sprawled across Wrune’s lap, and the slit on my skirt was dangerously close to revealing my sex to all that looked on.
But I chanced a peek then. Their voices were loud and jovial, carrying over the slight breeze of that darkened night. Laughter was plenty and it was so incredibly strange to hear, and sooften. No one had laughed under the Dead Mountain. No one had laughed in our makeshift camp, deep in the woods, before we’d come to the Dead Mountain. Solemn faces and hungry bellies were what I was used to.
But not here. There was food aplenty. Smiling, round faces. A group of humans were even present, though I had purposefully avoided looking at them. I’d been aware of their presence. Wrune had told me himself, when he was chained in his cell, that humans lived in his horde.
He’d been telling the truth about that, at least.
The group was small, however, and clearly kept to themselves, though their shoulders were relaxed. One man was even talking with a Dakkari female, his hand perched on her hip, though she was taller than him.
