Page 101 of The Horde King of Shadow

When I reached our home, however, it was dark. Sarkin wasn’t here yet. Nevertheless, I lit the hearth and the wax candles that dotted the dwelling, golden light spreading across the furniture and dark stone walls. I was filthy from training, thinking to wash quickly before Sarkin returned. I stripped off and hopped into the heated bath, nearly groaning my relief as I sat on the ledge that ran along the edges, the water lapping at my collarbones.

As I soaked, I thought about what Sammenth had revealed about Sarkin’s father. A disgraced rider? I hadn’t thought such a thing was possible. I wondered why he’d stolen dragon eggs. I remembered Sarkin mentioning the Hartans, wanting the eggs before a war broke out. Had that had anything to do with it?

And what about his mother? How did she play into all this?

Only Sarkin could tell me. I only wantedhimto tell me. But with such little time left before the choosing—the realization that we would likely leave tomorrow, which spread icy worry in my belly—I thought it could wait.

I was so lost in thought, I didn’t hear when Sarkin entered our dwelling.

I heard the quiet snap of the door bolting into place, and when I looked up, I saw him watching me through the gossamer curtains that separated the bath from the rest of the dwelling.

He held his travel bag and another bag, both of which he placed on the ground.

A sizzle of anticipation went through me as he approached, toeing off his boots, slipping off his vest, his tunic following. The laces of his trews were next as I felt my nipples pebble beneath the hot water.

Then he was naked, pushing back the curtain. The golden light made him look like a statue in Dothik of aVorakkarof old. Perfectly sculpted, harshly beautiful, with a merciless expression.

“Welcome home,Karath,” I said quietly.

“What a beautiful welcome it is,Sorrina,” he answered, stepping down into the bath to join me, those swirling eyes never once leaving mine.

I licked my lips as I watched him approach.

“Do we leave in the morning?” I couldn’t help but ask.

Sarkin reached me, sinking down to take me into his arms. I pressed my face to his neck. He smelled like Zaridan. Like salty coastal air and crushed leaves. I breathed him in harder as black Elthika-scale dust floated in the water around us from his palms.

“Yes,” he replied. “I made sure to fly over Tharken on our way home. The Elthika are waiting. They are ready. We will leave at dawn.”

I ignored the sizzle of nerves. I would worry about it in the morning. Nothing would change now.

“Then let’s enjoy tonight.”

“Yes,” he rasped, pulling back so he could capture my lips. His hands roamed, and I arched into his touch, a gasp drivingaway all thoughts of the choosing. “Let me enjoy you, myaralye.”

Chapter 35

SARKIN

My fingertips trailed down Klara’s spine, skimming over the swell of her cheeks, making her twitch and shiver, making me smirk.

“Sensitive?” I asked, rolling into her in our bed, tugging her into the crook of my arm. How long it had been since I was so comfortable with a lover…

I thought it a blessing that I felt this way with my wife.

“Yes,” she said. Though I couldn’t see it, I heard her smile.

I smelled her hair, savoring this with her before the rush of the morning began. I rubbed my lips over the delicate—and sensitive—tips of her ears. I knew she needed to sleep, but I just wanted a few more quiet moments with her. We wouldn’t get any during theilla’rosh.

“Why had you never taken a lover in Dothik?” I asked, a question I’d been curious about ever since learning she’d been a virgin in Lishara’s temple. “Surely you had males vying for your attention.”

Saying the words out loud brought a discomforting feeling with it. One I thought might bejealousy. It was strange and foreign. It made me feel restless, and I hated the feeling. Bynature, I’d never been jealous over past lovers. Some had tried to make me so, but not once had they ever succeeded.

And now I was jealous over faceless Dakkari or human males who might have tried to seduce my wife into their beds, long before I’d ever known her?

It was laughable. And irritating because I was getting jealous over a hypothetical, not a truth.

“Most men stayed away from me,” she said softly. “My scar kept many away. I’d learned most people don’t like to look at it, so I’d tried to hide it a lot. Keeping my face down, not making eye contact, keeping to the edges. Never bringing attention to myself.”

---