Neve
Chapter Thirty-Five
Neve
He’d finally made it back to his room, expecting to find a sleeping valles , but she was nowhere to be found. Neve had even removed all the pillows to make sure she wasn’t hidden beneath them. The one thing he did find was her black diamond choker carelessly tossed onto the bed. He heard the message loud and clear. Lia wasn’t pleased.
Asking the guards where the queen had disappeared to was humiliating in and of itself.
The entire walk down to the kitchen, he’d rehearsed what he’d say to her.
All of it fled his mind as he pushed open the door to find her sitting with the servants sharing cake with them like they were her friends. It was downright domestic. When was the last time he’d experienced such thing? It had been years. A thread of longing struck him. He was so tempted to sit down and join them.
Neve banished the thought.
The cook spotted him first, then all the servants bolted from the makeshift table, bowing and scraping. He nodded to them and stared at the back of his wife’s head. She didn’t even turn to look at him, and instead took another scoop of cake, licking at the frosting delicately like he wasn’t even there.
Something about her little pink tongue flicking the white frosting caused him to snap.
He crowded into her space, catching her right wrist. He leaned over her shoulder and lifted her hand up until the piece of cake she’d been fondling neared his lips. She tipped her head back, her heavy weight settling against his chest, hazel eyes burning into him.
“My lord,” she murmured, completely calm.
He wanted to ruffle her.
Neve flashed his fangs at her and stole her bite. Spice and creamy sweetness burst across his tongue. He nearly moaned. No wonder the valles had been eating the cake like she had. It was delicious. A wicked thought entered his mind. He flicked his black tongue out to lick her thumb.
She gasped, and he watched as the pupils of her eyes expanded.
Just what did that mean? He wanted to find out.
“Delicious,” he said, holding her gaze. Pink dusted her cheeks, and she glanced away.
He’d won this round.
Releasing her hand, he stepped back and held his hand out for Lia. “My lady, it is quite late.” A politely worded command.
Her jaw tightened, but she set the fork onto the butcher block, giving the kitchen staff a brilliant but somewhat strained smile.
“Thank you for dinner and the treat. It was truly incredible.”
Her healer slipped off the end of the bench, and Neve kept his polite smile firmly on his face when his wife turned her back to him and scooted down the bench in the opposite direction. He stayed where he was as she hopped off the bench and whispered something to Loshika, who firmly shook her head.
Dahlia’s shoulders drooped but she recovered quickly, rounding the bench and then taking his hand. She waved to the kitchen staff while Neve tucked her petite hand into the crook of his arm. He guided her into the hallway. It was empty save a few guards stationed at the stairwells.
The silence stretched between them, and he found himself grinding his molars. Neve could feel how displeased she was with his presence. Even now, her fingers hardly even touched his sleeve, like she couldn’t bear to touch him. It rankled.
Even so, he found himself slowing their pace and taking the long way back to the royal wing. His human was so expressive. A part of him wanted to know what she thought of his home. He cut through the Hall of Mirrors.
Her anger melted away, replaced by awe.
Neve stood a little taller, and slowed just a touch so she could absorb the beauty of the massive room. Floor-to-ceiling stained glass windows covered two walls, showing off the castle waterfall. The floor was made of large chunks of broken, antique mirror that reflected the grandeur around it. This room he reserved for gatherings for foreign delegations. While it was beautiful, it was incredibly distracting, and somewhat overwhelming for someone not used to all the reflective surfaces. It made it easy to overstimulate those who were hoping to manipulate him.
He gazed down at Lia’s familiar head of rose-gold hair, and then to the ceiling, staring at their reflection. He really did look like a monster next to his little valles .
Beauty and the beast.
He blanched at the thought, and dropped his chin, picking up the pace. Dahlia wasn’t beautiful. She was a pale-faced, fragile little human. Nothing more.
All too soon, they reached the royal wing.
He ignored the warriors stationed outside his chambers and swept inside. His loviaye dropped his arm like she’d been burned, and put the bed between them as he closed and locked the door.
She crossed her arms and lifted her chin.
Neve spared her one glance and meandered to the spirits on the mantel of the fireplace. He poured himself a lick and tossed it back, the alcohol burning down his throat and warming his stomach. Neve poured one more before facing Dahlia.
Dahlia hadn’t moved. In fact, she looked ready for warfare.
Neve held his hand out. “Let’s have it. You obviously have something on your mind.”
“I’m fine.”
He snorted into his glass and took another sip. It seemed females of any race seemed to use the same language when angry. “I can see it on your face, valles .” He watched with intrigue as she wiped every bit of expression from her face. How did she do that? What good did she think it did when he’d already seen the emotion?
“You do not know me, my lord.”
He chuckled and set his glass down on the round table next to the couch. Neve slung a hip against the arm and then crossed his feet at the ankles. He waved a hand at her defensive pose. “Then what is all this? You’re upset with me. I would know why.”
“I’m not.”
“ Lies . Do you think I haven’t been studying your facial expressions and body language for the last month? Do you really think I would have let you anywhere near any of my people if I didn’t feel like I understood you and your motivations at some level?” He pointed to her crossed arms. “You’re standing like you’re ready to go to battle. You wouldn’t look at me in the kitchen, and you didn’t take my hand until you had to. Godsteeth, valles , what is wrong?”
Dahlia dropped the mask, and her eyes narrowed. “You had your people dress me up like a doll and then paraded me in front of your council.”
“Your ladies-in-waiting did a lovely job.”
Color rushed into her face, causing the sprinkles on her nose to stand out more. “Then you all proceeded to speak in Loriian for hours while I sat on your lap!”
“Not everything is for your ears. Do you really think we would trust a saloes so easily? One from our mortal enemy?” Neve shook his head. “You can’t be that na?ve.”
She dropped her arms, and her fingers curled into fists. “I’m not na?ve. You could have easily had the meeting without me there, but you chose to act as if you did. You didn’t even grant me my own seat. It was meant as a humiliation. To show your power over your human wife.”
He flinched, and pushed away from the couch. “Your own seat? I shared my throne with you!” His voice rose, and Neve bit off the angry shout. Yelling never solved anything and showed a coarse lack of self-control. “Are you really complaining about such an honor?”
She blinked at him. “An honor? What do you mean? Only children and whores sit on the laps of grown men.”
Neve’s jaw dropped. “You mean to tell me that vallos do not share their seats with their women in your culture?”
Her nose wrinkled. “Not usually. Unless it is to show the power they have over the woman, or it is a sexual act.”
He pushed away from the couch and ran his hand through his hair. No wonder she was stiff the entire morning. It was like having a block of wood in his lap. “In my culture, it is a show of respect between partners—especially a king.”
“Oh.” She just stared at him.
“That’s all you have to say?” he retorted. “Oh?”
“Yes.”
The sparkling black choker caught his eye, and he picked it up from the comforter and let it dangle from his fingertips. “And this? What’s this about?”
Her lips thinned. “Do you remember what you said to me this morning?”
“No. I hardly remember what I ate for luncheon.”
Wrong thing to say . She tossed her hands angrily into the air and then stormed around the bed in a flurry of black silk and fur. He twisted to face her as she snatched the necklace from his grasp.
“You asked me to wear this for you at dinner. It was a very blatant command in front of your people. It’s uncomfortable and heavy, but I wore the blasted thing all day. We’re not friends or partners. You’ve been my enemy since you threatened me in that alcove, but I wanted to have a bit of peace.” Her expression cracked. “Aren’t you tired of fighting? So, despite you embarrassing me, I wore it as an olive branch.” Neve’s stomach dropped as tears filled her eyes. “You never showed up. I waited for hours. Loshika and I were starving.”
“That’s why you were in the kitchen.”
She nodded and looked away, angrily brushing a tear off her flushed cheek.
His chest ached at the sight. He didn’t like her tears. They … bothered him. Even with all the trials they’d experienced on their travels, Dahlia had never once cried. Neve had done this. This was his fault.
“ Lo bietelle .” I’m sorry.
“For what?”
“For causing you distress.”
She glared at him. “I’m not distressed. I’m angry.”
He sighed. “I’m just trying to apologize. Why are you making it so difficult?”
“Because you vex me.”
He eyed his little bride. “The feeling is mutual, I assure you.”
“Then why seek my hand?”
“To stop the bloodshed plaguing our nations for the last thousand years.”
“Oh, is that all?” A beat of silence, and then her lips twitched.
He snickered, and she chuckled, which led to him laughing until his ribs complained. Neve wiped the corner of his eye and froze when the valles grinned up at him, her eyes sparkling. She’d never looked at him that way before. It stunned him. He felt like he could hardly breathe. Her laughter faded. He found himself cupping the back of her neck, his claws combing through the shiny curls draped down her back.
Once again, he fixated on her pink lips. His attention moved to her eyes. The pupils were wide once again. Neve scanned her face and leaned closer, testing a theory. He scented the air for fear.
Just a touch. And something far sweeter.
Desire .
Neve pressed closer, dropping his nose to the crook of her shoulder, following the sweetness up the column of her neck and behind her ear. His little valles shivered, and a wicked smile curled his lips.
Maybe the beauty favors the monster.
When did he start thinking of her as a beauty?
That thought alone had him pulling away. She blinked up at him and it took everything inside Neve not to lift her onto the bed and taste her skin. His mouth watered.
“ Qov .” He turned his back on her and stalked to his glass, tossing back the spirits. He faced Dahlia, hating how she’d erased every bit of softness he’d seen and felt in her body. The wall was back up.
“It’s time for you to leave,” she said, her voice just a touch lower.
Neve grimaced. This was what he really needed to speak to her about.
“About that … I’m staying here, and so are you.”