Page 4 of The Horde King of Shadow

Only he wasn’t a horde king. Whether living or dead, I knew every lastVorakkarof our history.

This mysterious stranger seemed to make the western market slow on the periphery of my vision. My heartbeat became both a lazy, languid thing, while also fluttering like a cagedthissiein my breast.

His silken black hair was cut short, curling slightly at the nape of his neck. His eyes were multicolored, like golden jewels in their very center before expanding outward to a light brown, ending with a circle of deep green. I’d never seen their likeness before.

Though he had sharply pointed ears, I didn’t spy a tail swaying behind him and thought it likely, given his eyes, that he had human blood running in his veins.

The golden richness of his skin only made his eyes glow brighter. I could envision him hundreds of years ago, on the back of a battle-bredpyroki, sword unsheathed, as he rode across the wildlands, like the ancient Dakkari.

His jaw was wide. His dark lips were full, large enough to make a little shadowed divot just beneath them. Nearly three heads taller than me, he had broad shoulders and his thighs were straining against the tight black trews that encased them. He was wearing a black, fitted, long-sleeved tunic. Over it was a black vest that molded to the stretch of his wide chest, resembling flexible armor. It shimmered with triangular scales that caught the afternoon sunlight.

I frowned.Pyrokiscales? No.Pyrokiscales were more flattened along the top edge.

“Are you done staring,aralye?” came his voice, deep and rich, though I thought I caught a stray edge of irritation too.

As heat flooded my cheeks, my gaze dipped to the book. Initially curious about the commotion, the onlookers started to disperse around us, but I let my dark hair fall even further into my face, wanting to hide from the nosy gossips. I only hoped they didn’t recognize me.

“Hanniva,” I croaked, not meeting his eyes.Please. “I’ll take that back now.”

“So eager to reclaim it,” he murmured. His words struck me as…careful yet deliberate. “Did you steal it?”

“What?” I breathed, frowning. “No, of course not.”

Those eyes skimmed over the open book in his possession, but I felt my patience snap when he ran the pad of his thumb down the parchment, leaving that black dust in its wake.

“Your hands are filthy,” I informed him, only imagining Sora’s horror in my mind as I stepped forward, firmly snagging it from his grip. “And this book is very old.”

The stranger’s eyes narrowed. “My apologies,aralye. I forget how much of a brute I am around such delicate things.”

I stiffened. Was it my imagination, or were his words dipped in warning?

“I know every dialect spoken on Dakkar,” I informed him carefully, wary now. “I’ve never heard that word before.Aralye.”

The male’s lips curled. The small, mocking grin made my knees nearly buckle.

“Perhaps it’s one I made up” was all he replied.

Something in my gut told me he was dangerous. Despite his beauty, I knew I needed to get away from him and fast.

“Thank you for your help,” I rushed out quickly, tucking the book close to my chest. A gust of wind funneled down from the Spine—the main road that cleaved the city of Dothik into two separate halves. The wind spread its fingers across the marketplace and briefly blew back the shadowed curtain of my hair. “But I must be going.”

The skinned flesh on my knees gave an aching protest when I pivoted away, but then I felt a warm, strong, sudden hand clamp down on my forearm. The stranger turned me back to him, his eyes utterly trained on me.Focused. The hairs on the back of my neck rose, a sensation I knew all too well.

Frozen, I watched as his hand flashed forward, sweeping back the hair from my left cheek to expose the scar there.

I watched as his lips pressed together. Shock? Disgust? I knew what he saw—a flesh-colored scar resembling the wildroots of a tree, beginning at my left temple and curling down my cheek, slashing through one eyebrow.

“Who are you really?” he rasped, the edge of his words sharp and dangerous like a blade.

Wrenching myself away with strength that surprised even me, I blew out a sharp breath, unable to shield my glare. He’d left a black smudge on me in the wake of his palm.

Not answering, I took a step back. Then another, clutching the book I’d spend my evening painstakingly cleaning after the feast. The male never moved, and I felt like prey.

When there was enough distance between us, I turned on my heel and fled.

I felt his eyes on me until I reached the Spine. When I made it to theDothikkar’s palace, only then could I breathe again.

Chapter 2

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