I lifted my chin. “Good sir, no one can command the sun. She does as she wishes.”
Alba’s expression was elated but hesitant. “Will you be all right here? Just for a moment?”
I nodded to her and nearly pushed her into Shaw’s open, waiting arms. “Yes, go!”
“Be back soon!” she shouted as she departed through the crowd in the direction of the music. My cheeks hurt from smiling. I tapped my fingers on the table and let my body sway with the melody of the fiddle. The energy of the room wrapped itself around me like a warm summer breeze.
“Does the moon want to dance as well?” My body stiffened at the question. No, not the question. The voice that asked it.
I turned my head, resting my chin on my bare shoulder and found Dommik. Hidden but recognizable underneath a riding cloak, he leaned on a post beside me.
The grays and blues of his eyes battled for ownership of his gaze. His lids dropped as he scanned my outfit. The black corset suddenly felt too tight as I caught the tiniest glimpse of his tongue grazing the corner of his mouth.
Any fantasies floating atop my ale buzz quickly skittered back into hiding as I realized what his presence meant.
If he’d returned, Rhazien had as well. My heart dropped knowing I would have to face him soon.
“Lyra, was it?” he said, stepping closer. “Pretty.”
“Ishehere?” I asked into my mug, knowing Dommik could hear me over the rising volume of the tavern.
One of his gloved hands reached over and stole the mug from my grasp. “No.”
“Does he know I’m here?”
The empty mug clanged as it met the tabletop. Dommik hissed an exhale at the swill. “No.”
Cheers erupted, the crowd clapping as a song came to an end. I joined as well, catching a glimpse of Alba’s golden hair amongst the strangers.
“Are you enjoying yourself, Lyra?” I could hear the smile on his lips at the alias. He said the false name again like he was trying on a new coat.
“I was,” I said as the next song inspired a rhythmic sway. “But let me guess, you’re here to haul me away?”
“I’m not thrilled to have found you here amongst this lot.” An arm wrestling match two tables away escalated beyond a playful sport into a small brawl. “And I will have to escort you back eventually,” Dommik raised a hand signaling for two more drinks from a barmaid, “but not yet.”
“Really?” I scoffed, unabashedly looking up at him for any hint of sarcasm.
“Really.” Dommik nodded with a disarming smile. “Last time I checked, no one commands the moon either.” He leaned closer, his lips hidden by his cloak and my hair. “You command me, Reyva.”
Dommik Thorne, Commander of the Southern Hive, didn’t take commands from anyone except his regent…and me.
I bit my cheek and tried to focus on the pain instead of all of the things I wanted to command him to do to me.
Dommik relieved the passing barmaid of two mugs. She fluttered her lashes and lingered, leering at the commander, but he didn’t return the attention.
He instead handed one of the ales to me, and I asked, “How is he?”
Dommik’s tankard stilled and he set it down before he could drink. “Filled with remorse and regret. Plotting how to mend things between you two.”
“I’m not sure he can.” I looked down into my own mug, happy I couldn’t see the heavy expression on my face. “Or that I want him to even try,” I admitted before taking an unladylike swig of the ale.
My senses were numbed enough to not taste its stale bite.
“Do you mean that?” Dommik asked, avoiding my curious gaze beneath his hood.
“What does it matter if I do?”
“It matters,” he assured me, his jaw set into a hard line that matched the stony disposition in his gaze.
