When the name left his lips, my world cracked in half.
“Please don’t joke, Dommik,” I snapped, all warmth leached from my tone.
He returned the serious demeanor. “I’m not joking, lovely.”
My heart roared in my ears. Dommik had told me I would be of use to the Hive. He told me his master would see me safe. I’d just learned someone had ordered my retrieval. He never said anything about belonging to one of the most infamous vampires in Atoris.
“You’re delivering me to Rhazien Kyrell!?”
The nocturnal creatures went silent at the mention of his name.
I understood death would have a constant presence in my new life, however short it may be. I knew there was interest in my inherited gifts. But I hadn’t anticipated just how dire my situation was going to be. The worst possible scenarios rushed to the front of my mind.
Dommik sat tall in the saddle behind me and reiterated the point, as if reminding himself about the task at hand and my inevitable future. “Yes. You belong to Rhazien Kyrell, vampire Regent of the Southern Hive.”
Hearing the words again didn’t help me understand. I chewed on my cheek as I searched for my next question. “What does it mean? Tobelongto the regent?”
Dommik cleared his throat. “It means you’re his. It’s that simple. No one else can touch or feed from you. Unless he gives you away.”
Right. I’m an asset. A good for commerce. And Dommik must deliver me like a good duty-bound soldier.
Just a mission. Just a possession. All my life, my worth was defined by what I could be traded for and this was no different.
Fuck these people.
“So, after he gets whatever he wants from me, he just…gives me away. And I am someone else’s property?” My knuckles blanched against the saddle horn and a suffocating heat spread in my chest.
“That’s drastically simplified. There’s an official ceremony, but yes. If he did ever want to release you, that would be the gist of it.” Dommik clipped each word, tempting me to turn around to see the look on his face.
Asher chuffed as he navigated over a fallen log. I stroked his mane and thanked him for carrying us. “Well, whatdoeshe want from me?”
Dommik groaned, “That’s a conversation for the Hive.”
His response garnered a pout beneath a woman of my age and station, but perhaps these were not circumstances requiring proper decorum. I didn’t want to wait. I wanted to be prepared. I rolled my shoulders back and decided on a new approach.
“Do you know him well?” I asked softly, trying to sound feeble and concerned.
“I do.” Short. Curt. An answer only to the question I asked and nothing more. I wondered if he’d been a brick wall in a former life.
I leaned into him and whispered over my shoulder, “Is he cruel?”
A short silence. He cracked his knuckles and answered, “He is…strong. When he needs to be.”
Not what I asked.
“Does he find that moments requiring strength also require cruelty?”
“That depends.”
I wanted to throw my hands in frustration; this was getting nowhere. I let my head fall back on his shoulder and tilted my chin up to him.
“Does anyonebelongto you?”
He held his head high and shifted his gaze down to me before refocusing on the road. “I know what you’re doing.”
“What?” I purred up at his jawline.
“Reyva…” he sighed. Not Lady Bergmont. Not lovely. Reyva. I liked how he said my name, almost like he evoked it as a prayer for strength.
