I wanted to reach out, to touch him too. Feel his stubble under my palm.
“You’re not excited.” He sighed.
“I am…grateful,” I faltered.
“But not excited.” Brown tendrils fell into his face as he tipped his head.
I sought refuge in my wine glass. The pause to sip more of the fine cabernet gave me a moment to find the right words.
“It is exciting,” I clarified, meticulously placing my goblet far enough away to signal I didn’t require more wine.
“But?” Rhazien encouraged, scooting closer.
He had gone from a protective bear to a doting man in less than a minute. His transformation was so abrupt, it completely disarmed me.
Through a laugh, I said, “But, it’s overwhelming.”
“Ah.” Rhazien nodded and took up my hands again. “I understand.”
“You do?” I looked down and watched his hand lazily stroke a vein in my wrist.
“Mhmm.” Our gazes collided and a gentle understanding looked back at me. “You didn’t ask for any of this.”
“Right,” I breathed, my pulse quickening in his grip.
“Reyva.” He lifted my wrist toward his lips.
My breath suspended as his mouth came closer and closer to my skin. I was ready for pointed teeth and searing pain and whatever else was next, but all that followed was the tender attention from his full lips. He lingered there above the beating vein.
After what felt like an eternity, he parted, lifting a heavy, heated gaze to mine and said, “You will not be left to the wolves. You are my prospect. Mine. And I protect what’s mine.”
A primal warmth slithered from my core to my spine at the thought that I was important.
I wasn’t nothing. I wasn’t useless. I wasn’t a sorceress whore or a murderer. I wasn’t Dommik’s reject.
I was special.
I was his.
Chapter 15
Fangs or Tongue
Alba had come and gone at least once to stoke the fire, but I remained an unmoving mass after the tense dinner the night before. My body happily nestled into the cocoon of warm sheets and blankets. With the heavy, black curtains firmly shut, it was impossible to tell what time of day—or night—it was.
If Dommik had made his rounds, I hadn’t noticed. It was probably best he made himself scarce so I could continue my mission to suffocate my interest in him.
It would take more time to entirely tune out the regular sounds of the Hive. One of which was Alba, who was nearly silent, except for a small hum signaling she was satisfied with a task. The sound marking an accomplishment gave away my lack of solitude. I peeked out from under the covers and found her lighting candles.
“Ah, Lady Reyva. Sorry to wake you.” She waved her elongated match, sending the trail of smoke into melodic spirals. “Did you sleep well after your eventful dinner?”
“Eventful?” I pressed my palms to my eyes. “It was more tense than anything. Unless that qualifies as eventful.”
“I suspected as much.” Her meticulous hands set to folding a blanket. “The rumor-mill of the Hive tends to weave simple gossip into dramatic tales.”
“Seems all courts are the same.” I sat upright and stretched my armsoverhead. A kernel of curiosity was pushing roots deep into the base of my neck. Sheepishly, I asked, “What are they saying?”
Alba didn’t look up from her task as she shared, “That His Majesty just about put Lady Tenebris in a cell next to that horrid Northern Hive soldier and that even Lord Hale had an uncharacteristic outburst, but that you handled the tension divinely. And that Commander Thorne was seen hastily leaving Lady Tenebris’ room just before dawn.”
