Page 83 of The Horde King of Shadow

She jerked, staring at me.

“What?” she breathed, already shaking her head.

“Again, Klara.”

She stared at me, her shoulders lowering and rising more quickly, familiar fear entering her gaze. I wouldn’t be satisfied until she no longer hesitated. She could be afraid—all riders held fear close—but I wouldn’t be satisfied until she had control over that fear. I knew it would be an impossibility for today, but it was a start.

“Fall. Trust in Zaridan. Trust inme.”

Chapter 29

KLARA

The sun was lowering in the sky, and I felt like I was out of my own skin. Like it was just something that had kept me contained my whole life.

My hair was wild. My skin sensitive and stinging. There was a ball of determination nestled deep in my belly. And I felt like I wasn’t myself. I felt like thisotherthing. This wild being who threw herself off the backs of dragons, who’d looked at death as it had risen up to approach her.

My bones and joints were aching from the impact of Zaridan’s catches. A permanent fluttering had taken root in my stomach, the force of the fall, and I wondered if it would ever go away.

There was another aching, wild thing in me though. An intertwining of frustration, anger, want, and gratitude. It mingled with the adrenaline, and I found that every time Sarkin caught me after another fall, it grew and grew.

His touch set me on fire. My body felt like it was a string, tightening and tightening, and I wondered what would happen when that string finally snapped.

I didn’t know if Sarkin felt it too. The adrenaline. The building and mounting sensation of fierce need. I wouldn’t have believed it, but in the last two falls I’d taken…I’d felt the fluttering in my belly move between my thighs.

When Sarkin caught me that final time, I knew I’d had enough. I’d willingly jumped off Zaridan over a dozen times that afternoon. I had been dismantled and then rebuilt with every last one until I was someone I didn’t quite recognize anymore.

Sarkin’s hands on me were as familiar as the sturdy, unyielding harness between my thighs and the sound of Zaridan’s great wings.

That string of tension finally snapped when Sarkin murmured into my ear, “Good?”

A breath, or a gasp or a sob perhaps, escaped me, and I turned in his arms, swiveling in the leather mount.

My kiss was a desperate, aching, wild little monster. The thought of it—of him, his lips, his touch, his taste—had consumed me.Hewas a monster, one who cared about me, one who had pushed me off Zaridan’s back to free me.

His kiss was immediate, his grip tightening on my waist. I was tugging at his clothes, fumbling with the clasps near the hem of his pants.

“Get them off,” I pleaded, my voice husky and raw from the wind. I needed to feel his skin against mine. I needed to be grounded to something, or else I feared I would fall into nothingness. “Kakkari, please!”

Sarkin’s growl was both a warning and a demand. He leaned over and thumped his fist along Zaridan’s side three times. She veered, aiming for the nearest flattened ledge along the cliffside.

I moved my mouth, biting at Sarkin’s neck, making him hiss, followed by a groan that had me squeezing my legs around the harness all the more forcefully. I couldn’t find the relief I neededthough. If I didn’t have it soon, I was almost afraid of what would happen.

As sunset painted beautiful pastel colors over the Tharken cliffs and I heard the crash of waves from a faraway ocean, I felt a maelstrom of fierce need storming through every vein, rushing with every throb of my heart.

Sarkin timed our jump onto the ledge perfectly, and Zaridan left us, flying freely through the pass and disappearing from view. The stone was solid beneath my feet as Sarkin tore at my clothes. It was like a race to get us both undressed as quickly as possible. When we were naked, I crashed into him, crying out in relief at the warm stretch of his body against me, all solid muscles and tantalizing, arousing strength.

His mouth was hot like a brand on my neck, marking me with his teeth and tongue. My hands dove into his hair, keeping him there. He kissed and nibbled downward, seeking, before sucking my nipple between his lips. My moan echoed through Tharken.

“Need you now,” I pleaded. I didn’t want to be teased or kissed or petted. I needed him inside my body. I needed to feel the stinging stretch of him, the thickness of his cock keeping me rooted to the earth. “Sarkin,hanniva!”

“Take me in your hand,” he growled. My fingers curled, my grip tight, and his hips bucked forward when I slid my hand down. “Fuck,aralye. I never thought…”

“Thought what?” I breathed, my eyes going half-lidded at the feel of him in my palm.

“Never thought it would be like this with you,” he admitted, his brow furrowing in an almost angry expression. But I knew better now. “I thought Lishara’s blessing was behind us.”

I thought I understood what he was saying.

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