Bliss.
I fed again several times too. Drowsy, not even fully awake, but the scent of my Blood made my fangs throb. I drank myself into a stupor again and again, unable to stop.
Guilt tightened my throat but Dörr immediately pulled me closer, his fingers gentle on my scalp, keeping me from lifting my head. “Take all you need, my queen. We’re well fed by your kitchen and completely unharmed.”
I sank back into the Darkness as he flowed into me.
Clara’s voice in the next room finally helped me sit up, more coherent and awake. “The tailor’s team arrives in a few minutes. I would bring them down here, but she’ll likely have several humans with her, and I didn’t want to disturb Her Majesty. They’ll be well compensated, of course, but I can’t vouch for their sense of propriety or discretion. They’re not a part of ourworld. I thought you could come upstairs one by one for your fitting.”
“I agree discretion will be best,” Lokken said.
Blunt as ever, Myrk added, “Even in our human forms, we don’t look like you. Are they going to be terrified of us?”
“I don’t think so,” Clara replied. “I cautioned them that this is a very special case. Of course having the opportunity to dress someone of our queen’s stature, both now and in the future, is part of what makes this even more attractive for them. She’s wealthy enough to fly them to her remote home in Iceland and pay them very well indeed, with the promise of future balls and formal events where you’ll need more than basic attire. It’s an opportunity few human craftsmen in any art would refuse, let alone risk dismissal by being rude. I’ve also arranged for several stylists to attend our queen’s fitting if she’s able later.”
“I’m awake,” I called out, pulling a sheet up over my chest. “You can come in here if you’d like, or I can find a robe.”
“Don’t rise until you’re ready, my queen.” Clara neared, staying at the door. “We wait upon you.”
“I’m ready to be up and out of bed.”
“Of course. Pàtair will be ecstatic to prepare anything you’d like to eat. Coffee? Tea? Breakfast foods or something else entirely?”
“Coffee sounds great and whatever breakfast foods he has on hand. I don’t want him to go out of his way.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “You don’t know him very well yet, my queen, but he’s always going to throw himself off into the deep end with joy to bring you whatever dishes you’d like. If he doesn’t know how to make it, he’ll source the food from other chefs or bring them in to teach him, but he’s well versed in most of our world’s cuisines.”
“Well, I seem to recall some very delicious croissants I had one time with bits of dark chocolate inside. Is that something he might be able to procure?”
“Absolutely. In fact, I’m pretty sure he has a pâtissière on staff.”
“I don’t know what that is but it sounds incredible,” Gunnarr called from outside the bedroom.
“A French pastry chef, and yes, I assure you, her work is impeccable. Now then, my queen, if you’re up to it, I’ve arranged for hair and personal stylists to attend your fittings today to make you feel confident and beautiful. They’re going to dress you from the bottom up, so all you need is a robe, several of which await you in the bath.”
My hand fluttered up to my chopped hair. Finally, a chance to fix?—
Wait. I pulled my fingers through strands of hair, all the way down to my shoulders. Still unevenly cut, yes, but not cropped close to my scalp in places. “Oh, goddess.” Tears flooded my eyes. “My hair. It grew.”
“Of course it grew,” Clara said tartly though her eyes shimmered. “You’re a child of Hel. Anything’s possible. By the time we’re done with your Blood, even Gunnarr will have more to wear than his underwear.” She checked her phone and her eyes flared. “They’re arriving now. Take your time, my queen. We’ll start with your Blood. Who’s our first victim?”
“Me,” Myrk and Gunnarr said at the same time.
I had to laugh, imagining my dark alfar scowling at the bear, while Gunnarr simply grinned. Clara headed back to the outer room to sort them out, and I stepped into the deliciously hot water flowing in the natural pool in the bathroom. Not too long—and Dörr didn’t join me or we’d be delayed even longer. Because I had a feeling I’d be tasting him again despite our guests.
Though he didn’t crack a smile or respond outwardly to my thoughts. I stepped out of the hot spring and grabbed a fluffy towel to dry off my body. He watched, silent and stoic, his bond as still as a deep, mighty river.
“What’s wrong?” I asked softly.
His chin dipped forward, his head lowering for a few moments while he gathered his thoughts. “I recommend Lokken as my replacement, my queen. He has the experience you need to manage any other Blood coming to your Call.”
Ah. Now I understood the heaviness in his bond. I sat on the rocky ledge of the tub and slowly toweled my freshly grown hair. “I’m satisfied with my current alpha. Besides, I don’t know that I’ll be Calling any additional Blood.”
“You will.” He raised his gaze to mine, his sapphire eyes as dark as a midnight sky. “We all feel your power, my queen, and it’s only growing. You need more Blood to sustain you. It’s my understanding many Aima warriors await a queen’s Call. They’ll flock to offer themselves to you.”
“I’ll consider them if the time comes. But you’re my alpha, Dörr.”
“Lokken—”
