“Rhazien…” My sentiment muffled beneath my hands.
He appeared at my side, vibrating with excitement. “What do you think?”
“I—I can’t—You didn’t need to—” Tears welled as I searched for the words to properly express my gratitude. This was so much more than I’d ever expected.
His arm wrapped around my shoulder and we stood, examining the gift. “I’m glad you like it.”
“Like it? No. I love it.” I turned to him and tilted onto my toes, inviting a kiss. Rhazien obliged. The tickle of his perpetual stubble greeted my cheeks. I pressed into him. I wanted him to feel how sincere I was.
He had done so much more for me than any man ever had in the space of two weeks and I wanted to shout about it from the rooftops. I wanted other women to know that there were men in the world like him. Men who would go to such lengths for their partner instead of a simple conversation about a dowry, followed by the expectation to spread their legs as apart of their duty. Granted, he had an advantage with his advanced age, status and acquired wealth, but his thoughtfulness was overwhelming nonetheless.
“Mmm.” He moaned into the kiss, a primal sound that I learned was a precursor to exploring tongues, eager fingertips, and throbbing body parts. And I wanted him, but I wanted to explore my garden first.
“Youjusthad me.” I squinted up at him.
“And?” He leaned down again but I ducked, evading him.
“It seems I’m not the only tenacious one,” I jested, breaking our embrace and walking deeper into the garden.
I plunged my fingers into the cold dirt and mentally compiled a list of crops I could plant now and harvest in the Spring. Not that I needed the food. From the humans mining the Irriset caves for gems to the shadowbound partners of vampires, it seemed everyone was well fed and cared for in Rhazien’s Hive. But the gesture—the gift of a place to grow things—was appreciated all the same.
I turned to meet his gaze again. “It’s perfect.”
Warmth swelled in my chest and I fought back another wave of tears, unsure why I was so susceptible to the emotions Rhazien inspired.
“You’re perfect,” he said, running a hand down my cheek.
I scoffed, “Far from it. But thank you.”
Then he kissed me, slowly. And this time I didn’t retreat. I didn’t tell him to stop when his tongue pushed past my lips to meet mine. I didn’t shy away as his hands slid beneath my dress to grip my thighs and perch me atop the stone barrier. And I let the sounds of pleasure fly freely into the early evening air—there, in the garden he’d built for me.
“We aren’t going to arrive together?” I grunted as Alba finished lacing my corset. She was dressing me for one of Rhazien’s citizen receptions—another common thread between the Illica and vampiric courts.
It was just as, if not more, important to show well tonight than my welcome ball. Residents of the Hive had the opportunity to speak directly to Rhazien about their concerns or grievances, and I would be seated next to him as he delivered his rulings. At my welcome ball, I was presented as his guest. Tonight, I would be his ruling partner. His equal. At least, that’s how Rhazien had described it.
But, as had become more common as the days passed, he needed to attend to other business first.
“I’ll be there as soon as I’m able,” Rhazien called over the partition. Gossamer tickled my skin as the dress slid over my head and down my frame. The deep red gown was a work of art. Perfectly hemmed to my height and bustled to complement my frame. Its long, wide sleeves featured intricate roses and vines in rich, golden stitching.
“By the Four,” Rhazien huffed as I walked out from the partition.
“Thank you?” I said, not sure if calling on the Originals was a compliment or a curse.
Rhazien dismissed Alba with an absent wave before burying his face in my hair, lost in the long waves. “How am I supposed to focus on a kingdom with you sitting next to me looking like this?”
I laughed at the ceiling. “Hundreds of years old, but at your core, still just a man.”
I hooked my arms behind his neck as he buried his face in my chest, the keyhole neckline of my gown giving him access to the tops of my breasts. He hummed in satisfied agreement.
“Just a simple, unworthy man.”
“Majesty,” I breathed as his grip tightened and tongue threatened to descend below the fabric, “Majesty! Your subjects are waiting.”
“I swear,” Rhazien said to the skin he had just kissed. “I will give you the attention you deserve later.”
Rhazien Kyrell, regent of the Southern Hive, was on his knees, swearing fealty to my breasts. I kept having to remind myself I’d only known him for two weeks. Our time together blended into scenes of laughter and passion. When we weren’t tangled up in each other, he was doing anything in his power to make the Hive a more welcoming home for me, including constructing a place of worship I had to pretend to use.
But all his acts of affection couldn’t silence the nagging sense of worry telling me to withhold my heart from him.
