7. Chapter 7
Chapter seven
I awoke to the sensation of hot air on my neck, a pressing warmth against my back, and the familiar scent of smoke and applewood.
A spark of panic sprouted inside me, but I quickly shut it down when I remembered the throne room. I couldn’t say that I appreciated waking up in bed with Dey, but I finally understood what he meant about his power being a gift.
My eyes swept over the room, taking in the stone walls and lack of anything remotely modern. The space was fairly open, yet still had a pleasant cozy feel to it. A low fire crackled in the hearth opposite the bed with two soft looking chairs before it. Thick burgundy drapes with veridian stitching along the edges framed each side of the three wide windows. Celestial tapestries adorned the walls, and I recognized some of the constellations from the ceiling in the antechamber. A small table sat below the window nearest the bed featuring a diamond vase filled with a rainbow bouquet of fresh flowers.
Dey shifted slightly behind me, and the movement drew my attention to his tattooed arm lingering on my hip, a thin beige quilt the only thing between us.
His steady breathing told me that he likely still slept, but before I could decide whether I should wake him up or just attempt escape, his arm tightened, pulling me into a deeper embrace against his chest.
Three revelations hit me simultaneously:
Dey was awake.
Dey was naked.
Dey was aroused.
I racked my brain for any information about what had happened between us, but only came up with a black wall. I remembered the throne room. I remembered the panic attack. And I remembered begging Dey to help me. After that… there was nothing. How could there be nothing?
I grabbed the edge of the quilt and lifted it to look beneath, letting out a sigh of relief when I realized that I was still dressed. Well, mostly. Someone had put me in a thin burgundy nightgown.
Dey shifted again, this time pressing his hips closer, and that was all the confirmation I needed. Dey and I did not have sex last night, because if the hard length pressing into my ass had ever been between my legs, I would definitely be feeling sore.
I rolled onto my other side so I was facing him and noted that I had been wrong about one thing—he was not actually awake. Naked and aroused, yes, but his eyes were shuttered, and his face displayed a soft, easy relaxation that only came with sleep.
As much as I knew I shouldn’t, I reached out and ran my fingers along his jaw, caressing the spot near his mouth where I knew the dimple would pop up when he smiled. There were no lines on his face. No scars or imperfections to mar his smooth sun-kissed skin. He appeared almost inhuman. Angelic even. The more I contemplated his face, the more I felt… sad. Imperfections were what made us unique and told the stories of our lives. His dimple when he smiled was dazzling, sure, but right now, with his face completely relaxed, he was just this blank canvas waiting for someone to paint the story of his life.
I let my gaze wander a little lower, to the tattoos that adorned his arms. The swirling design started at his wrists and ran all the way up both arms to brush the very edges of his clavicles. I resisted the strong urge to trace the pattern with my fingers. Touching his face was one thing, but running my hands over those muscles was a bad idea. Especially since rolling over had lined up the hardest parts of him with some very soft parts of me. Parts that were beginning to pulse with heat as I allowed my eyes to drop a bit lower to take a peek at…
“Rain?”
Every muscle in my body tensed at the sound of his voice. Painfully, I dragged my eyes away from where our bodies were pressed together and forced myself to meet his eyes.
He was definitely awake now.
“Yes, Dey?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
His eyes filled with amusement and a hint of male satisfaction. “What are you doing?”
“I was, um, about to wake you up.”
“I see.” His knowing smile spread a little wider. “And now that I am awake, was there something you wanted to… do?”
My mind went to a disturbingly smutty place, and another wave of heat thrummed through me as my treacherous eyes started to wander south again, taking in the hard plane of his chest, the definitive ridges of his abs, the dusting of golden hair just below his navel…
“Princess, I need you to tell me exactly what you are thinking right now.”
Something about the word princess hit me like a cold shower. A reminder of exactly where I was and what I had been through. The rational part of my brain woke up, and I adjusted my body backward slightly.
“I was thinking,” I began, confident that my libido was now on the backburner, “that it would be great if you could answer some questions for me. Specifically, where are your clothes, where are my clothes, and where the hell am I?”
Dey sighed, seemingly realizing that his chances of things progressing more physically had ended. Rolling onto his back, he stretched like a giant cat, then adjusted himself to face me.
“I can assure you, Rain, nothing inappropriate happened last night.”
I narrowed my eyes on him. “We might have somewhat different definitions of the word inappropriate. I can promise you I’ve never woken up with a naked man and thought, 'my what a chaste evening we just had.' I’m going to need a few more details.”
“Allow me to assuage your fears then,” he said gallantly. “You had another episode in the throne room yesterday.”
“Yeah, I remember that. Can we skip ahead to the part where you’re naked?”
“Well, after you fell asleep, the King had me bring you here to rest. He was very concerned for you, Princess.”
I grimaced. Great first impression, Rain.
“We both felt it would be best after your ordeal that you got some good sleep,” he continued. “I remained here with you in case my abilities were needed again. You must have been very exhausted because you did not stir once throughout the night.”
“Yeah, it’s not every day you get abducted to a different dimension. Tends to take a lot out of a girl. Now, about my clothes?” I glanced down pointedly at the nightgown.
“The servants took them to be washed. They also dressed you as I thought you might not appreciate if I were the one to do so.”
He was right about that. “And your clothes?”
Dey gave me a sly grin. “It was very warm last night.”
“Warm enough that you had to take off your underwear?” I wasn’t the smartest person, but even I recognized a suspect story when I heard it.
“Males here do not wear additional garments under their breeches,” he replied plainly.
“That’s it? Your excuse is that you were hot?”
He had the decency to look a little chagrined. “My people run a bit warmer than humans. I lit the fire because I did not want you to be cold, but I became a bit overheated. I did not intend to fall asleep without my clothing on. I must have drifted off.”
I found myself so hung up on his first sentence that I completely disregarded the absurdity of his explanation.
“Did you just imply that you’re not human?” I asked, my mouth hanging slack-jawed. “Because I saw pretty much all of you just now, and there was no tail or pointy ears.”
Dey shifted away from me, and I could swear he seemed almost insulted.
“Of course I am not human,” he replied stiffly. “I am Vitaean.”
That word tickled something in the back of my mind, and I recalled what he said in the cemetery—that his home, Rivella, was in Vitaea.
“Okay, but like, you're still basically a human though, yeah? Only you have a different word for it?”
“No, Princess. I am not a man. I am a Vitaean male.”
“But you look…” My eyes scanned his body again, lingering in certain areas way longer than was necessary, but I told myself it was in the name of science.
“If you keep looking at me like that, Rain, it will be very difficult to refrain from educating you in the many ways Vitaeans are superior to humans.”
“I’m sorry,” I sputtered, his words piercing the haze of lust. “Did you just say that you’re superior to me?”
His brow furrowed. “Of course not. I would never say such a thing.”
“Oh, okay. Good.” I relaxed back into the pillow.
“I said I am superior to humans.”
I shot back up and glared at him. “I’m human, you dick!”
The pity in Dey’s eyes dropped straight into my stomach where it morphed into a churning, uneasy feeling.
“No, Princess. You are not.”
I was still reeling from Dey’s words an hour later as I stepped out of the shower. He had left to go prepare the staff for my arrival at breakfast after promising that it would only be him and my father in the king’s private dining hall. No crowds. No staring eyes. No whispers and giggles.
I closed the shower door behind me, amazed they even had showers in this world. It only had two temperatures, hot and cold, but the hot setting had been perfect for rinsing away the trauma of yesterday. It was what I always did after a panic attack. Something about a long shower just seemed to reset my brain.
I mentally added the existence of indoor plumbing in a world without electricity to the list of questions I was determined to get answers to at breakfast. Starting off with that bullshit about me not being human. After dropping that little bomb, Dey had resumed his firm stance of letting my father handle the explanation which pissed me off to no end. You can’t tell someone they're not human then trot off to get a damned bagel.
Cursing his name under my breath, I grabbed the fluffy burgundy towel hanging from a rack and dried myself, relishing the luxury of it. Every scratchy towel I had at home came from the Dollar Store, but this thing felt like velvet. Tossing it on the floor, I snagged the matching robe that was just as soft and opened the door back into my room.
I stopped in my tracks when I found two ladies in front of me, patiently waiting. They appeared only a few years older than me and might have been sisters given their similar appearance. Same height. Same long-sleeved gray dress. Same blond hair that was braided and twisted into a top knot.
As I stepped out of the bathroom, both women made a sweeping gesture, their left arm flowing up their body then back down while simultaneously dropping their weight on their right leg. It was actually quite pretty, and for a second I thought they were about to start dancing.
“Ummm… Hi?” I said, somewhat confused as to why they were in my room at all.
“Salwhay,” they both replied in unison as the one on the left stepped forward, took my hand, and drew me over to a cushioned seat beside the hearth. Reluctantly, I sat in front of the newly kindled fire.
“So, just confirming for my own sanity here, you guys don’t speak English, huh?”
Neither responded, and I slumped back into the chair. As I sat there mulling over my communication predicament, one of the women took up a position behind me and tugged on my wet hair. Whipping my head around, I noticed a brush in her hand.
“Oh, sorry,” I muttered. The ladies must be servants, but I had no idea what that actually entailed.
I settled back into the chair, resigning myself to my current fate. The feeling of the brush running through my thick strands in front of the warm fire was actually kind of nice. My eyelids drifted shut, and for the first time, I let myself enjoy a little pampering.
Before I could get too comfortable though, Dey's voice pulled me from my relaxation. “I see you have met your servants,” he said, laying a hand on the shoulder of the female brushing my hair. “This is Kiahna, and her sister over there is Niahna. They have been at the palace for many decades, so they will do an excellent job of taking care of you.”
I stared at him. “Decades? No way. They can’t be more than twenty-five.”
He scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Actually I believe they are in their late sixties, though I am not certain. It has never come up.”
I scanned the women, searching for any signs they were nearing retirement age but saw nothing. Not a single crow's foot or frown line. “So this is magic then? You guys have some kind of power to look young forever?”
Dey chuckled. “Not exactly. Vitaeans with healing abilities simply live much longer lives. Our power repairs the damages of aging. As long as we remain near the Source our lifespans are quite expansive.”
I opened my mouth, but he raised a hand in a placating gesture before I could speak. “If you could hold that thought, Princess, the king is waiting in the dining hall.” He frowned at my robe. “And you are not yet dressed for some reason. Did I not give you enough time to prepare?”
“Oh, sorry. I think I might have taken a bit longer in the shower than usual.”
“I understand,” he replied, his lips twitching up into a grin. “I imagine you were very dirty from earlier.”
The way he said dirty had my knees wavering. Was this how things were going to be? He knew I had been ogling his package so now he was going to bring it up every chance he got?
I glared at him, trying to hide my embarrassment behind anger. “I was actually. From you sweating on me all night long.”
His grin faded.
Stomping over to the nightstand, I snatched up my hoodie and shorts. Clothes in hand, I headed for the bathroom.
“There are many fine dresses in the wardrobe that you could wear,” Dey called.
“I think I’ll wear my own clothing, thank you very much.” Then I shut the door in his face before he could get another word out.