The Lost Tribe: Maliha the Wanderer (Book 1)

A Dying Legacy

"You can come out now, she has gone" voice rumbling like a lion's warning growl. It was not a request.

Her bare feet glided across the floor, her thin white nightgown swishing at her legs as she stepped over the threshold. Her milky green eyes peering up at the shadows Ujarak's body created. The moment she stepped further into the light she noticed that the amber hue that had coloured his eyes had dwindled down. The embers of fire seeping out of his eyes until nothing, but dark brown orbs stared back at her.

He was an intimidating piece of work, crafted like marble and stone, his face was strongly chiselled, lips pursed as he remained stoic to Maliha's state of undress.

"I didn't mean to-" her words cut off by the abrupt wave of his hands.

"You did mean to listen, Maliha," goose bumps rising along her skin at the way her name tumbled from his lips.

"Perhaps not initially, but you did not leave when you came upon us"

It was the truth, she had heard their voices and followed them and though she hadn't intentionally meant to listen in on a private conversation, their voices were the only reason she had left her room. Regardless, she hated the way in which he spoke to her. It was not blatant but the way his lips curled, and his face lightly sneered, it was clear to see that he had an issue with her.

"You don't like me," her voice soft and hesitant knowing that his answer would not be a kind one.

"I do not know you Maliha" but his deep brown eyes suggested otherwise.

They suggested that he knew the deepest part of her being. His eyes insinuated that he knew her soul and that he found it lacking, that she was lacking in some way. Such blatant disregard to her person made her feel so small.

So, insignificant

She felt like nothing

Like a piece of ash blowing in the wind and disappearing into nothingness, but instead of cowering under the tall and intimidating stature of this male, she met him head on. Her spine unbending even as she felt as if she would wilt under his strong stare.

"But yet I still I sense you do not like me Ujarak, why is that so?" His name was foreign to her tongue, exotic yet solid. It was an odd name he had, the origin of it unknown to her.

His chest rumbled as he sighed deeply, his body shifting forwards as he perched himself against the desk.

"I do not dislike you Maliha," he dismissed, "I dislike what my tribe whispers about you,"

His words automatically had her back rising, confusion lining her face. "What do they say- about me?" Her eyes shuttered to the floor as she shoved a short piece of hair away from her face.

She couldn't explain why but she wanted this tribe to like her. She had never met a people like them and though they were so hard and cold, the culture they shared was one she wanted a part of, if only for a little while. The way they treated each other was with reverence, each person was a valued member of the tribe everyone but her and perhaps Xiuri, though Xiuri was more welcomed than Maliha would ever be.

She feared what they whispered about her but at the same time she was tired of being an outsider.

"They think you may be the one promised to us or that you are a sign that she is coming," he sighed deeply, resigned to the conversation they were about to have.

"The one promised? I don't understand," brows knitted and arms folded.

"The survival of our tribe is connected to the correct bloodline sitting upon our throne. Every year the Der Surjaz tribe goes without her, our people suffer"