“He won’t.”
Dommik cupped my face and wiped away a fallen tear with his thumb. His gentle touch so fiercely contrasted the warrior who wielded his deadly blade. But I suppose we all walk the world donning many masks. Was this one of his? Or was this the real Dommik? Tender and bare.
In his fevered state, he’d said I reminded him of something. I wondered, in his unnaturally long life, if when he looked at me with those storm-filled eyes, if he saw me. Or if he was seeing an echo of something else…someone else.
Dommik blinked frantically, as if he’d forgotten himself, and stood to leave. I, too, cleared my throat and composed myself, mentally kicking dirt over the warm embers glowing in my center.
He didn’t say anything else as he left. Just turned, nodded to me, and ascended the stairs, leaving me with his favorite book.
Dommik kept his word. He’d returned with a prepared plate of food before I was halfway throughThe Forest and The Flame.I’d have likely finished the thin book if it weren’t for the invasive daydreams—curiosities about vampires and feeding and why I couldn’t be touched or tasted even though Dommik had done both.
He plucked a different book from the shelf and quietly thumbed through its pages while I ate in silence, buzzing with questions.
“I didn’t peg you as a reader,” I said as I dabbed the corners of my mouth with a handkerchief.
“You shouldn’t judge books by their covers,” he quipped, briefly glancing from his novel. “Looks like the rabbit was to your liking.”
It was the first time I felt full in weeks. The constant state of hunger had given me a glimpse into what it must have been like to live in poverty. I’d always had the luxury of knowing when my next meal would be, until I’d been arrested. The Illica Crown wasn’t keen on quality, nutritional meals for their prisoners. Even high-born ones.
“And you?” I asked. It was a polite reflex and only after the words left me did I wonder if I truly wanted to know.
He chuckled and traced his bottom lip with his thumb. “I also had rabbit.”
My stomach fell as I imagined an innocent animal struggling in hisgrasp as he sank his fangs into its fur and drank. I was also thankful for the creature. It satiated Dommik, which meant I was off the menu…for now anyway.
With nowhere to go and limited distractions, an impatient curiosity festered. “Who were those two men?”
Dommik looked at me, lifting his head from his book this time, rolled his shoulders and said, “Soldiers.”
“Friendly soldiers, or enemies?”
Thump.Specs of dust flew from the pages as Dommik shut it in his palm.
“Both.”
“How are they?—”
“It’s complicated,” he interjected, silencing me.
It didn’t seem complicated to me. It seemed like Dommik and the vampire he’d let live, Vaspar, were having some kind of pissing match, but I dropped it.
“Are most vampires at the Hive like them? Or are they more like you?” The question earned a feline smile that made me wonder if that rabbit had helped Dommik fully heal. He appeared to be back to his usual self.
“More like me?” He stretched to the cellar ceiling and laced his fingers behind his head. His biceps framed the smugness on his face. “What do you mean by that, lovely?”
I scoffed, “I mean. You don’t seem to have forgotten your humanity like them.”
My body jumped in my chair with Dommik’s laughter. The fit either gave him a stitch or aggravated what remained of his wound because he dropped one of his hands to clutch his side.
“Thank you, Reyva,” he said between breaths. “I haven’t laughed like that in a long, long time.”
Had there been more people around, I may have been embarrassed, but instead, I was just confused. “I don’t understand what was so funny. It was supposed to be a compliment.”
A few deep breaths later, Dommik conquered the lingering laughter. “It’s hard to explain.”
I folded my arms across my chest, unsatisfied with his answer. “Try.”
As far as I was concerned, he owed me this. After lying about who he was, I deserved some information.
