A Few Drops
The next night, Asher carried us north.
The moon, less swollen now than two nights prior, illuminated the fast-approaching peaks of the Irriset mountain range, the barrier between the mortal lands to the south and immortal territory to the north.
Only Travelers—like the one Dommik impersonated—held the privilege to come and go between kingdoms on official business without persecution or penalty.
Mere hours. That’s all it would take to travel to the place where I would carry out my sentence. I stiffened at the thought. Uncertainty gripped me with every stolen breath.
We’d packed in silence, moved around each other like two people who had fallen out of love. I relinquished myself to be the obedient parcel I was meant to be.
“I’m sorry.” Dommik’s chest rumbled behind me, the first words spoken since we’d departed his estate. “For yesterday.”
Asher chuffed and shook his head as if encouraging him to say more. Dommik obeyed, exhaling and added, “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.”
We’d been riding like this for hours. The taut line of tension between us was unignorable.
“Thank you,” I responded softly. “I’m sorry too.”
And I was. I was sorry I’d pushed him, that I’d fanned the flames and escalated it. He may have withheld other information, but what I’d asked wasn’t my business. Just like my love for Beau wasn’t his.
“I owe you one more question.” His tone was welcoming and warm again.
I hesitated, really thinking about what I wanted—no, needed—to know. With each step, Asher carried me toward the vampires of the Hive. My new home, as Dommik called it. My next prison was how I envisioned it.
I stroked Asher’s sleek, ebony mane and said, “You’ve said multiple times I’m supposed to be delivered untouched. And untasted.”
He cleared his throat. “Yes.”
“Well, why does it matter so much?”
Dommik guided Asher over a rock bed. Water trickled between the stones and shimmered under the glow of the moon.
It was the birth of a river beneath us. Asher stumbled over the uneven waterway, jostling me in the saddle.
Dommik let out a gentle exhale and steadied me with an arm wrapped around my middle.
I leaned into his touch. After the treacherous journey thus far, it felt nice to be held.
Once across, he released me and shifted his weight. “Strict orders.”
I rolled my eyes and tucked a loose strand of dark hair behind my ear. “Not that I’m complaining, but who would know?”
I wondered if he would oblige my follow up question or cut me off like he had last night.
“Ahh…well. It’s a side effect of our condition. Vampires have heightened senses and abilities. Sight, smell, taste.” I nodded. That was the extent of my knowledge of vampires previous to meeting him. He went on, “So we can sense when another vampire has been…in contact. We leave traces.”
I twisted to look at him. “Oh…so it’s like a territorial thing?”
“Essentially, yes.”
Traces. On me. That other vampires can sense. I ran through all of the touches, accidental and purposeful and heat flushed my cheeks. “But you’ve touched me. Handled me quite roughly, actually.”
“All of which has been necessary or can be explained. Vaspar, on the other hand, will need to answer for his actions.” A ping of relief lit up at the base of my neck.
I was curious what justice in the vampire court would look like.
The idea that Vaspar would have to answer for his crimes gave way to a new curiosity.
“But—” I began.
“It matters because,” he answered, anticipating my next inquiry as if he could read minds, “the vampire who ordered your retrieval commanded it.”
He was giving me crumbs of information while dancing around the root of what I needed to know.
“Why would they do that?” I pressed.
An annoyed sigh melted into a nervous chuckle. “Because you’ll belong to them.”
A vampire who didn’t want me touched or tasted. My heart sank thinking about belonging to yet another stranger. Belonging to anyone, really. I supposed Dommik wouldn’t be so bad; at least we had rapport…
But it wasn’t him. Someone had ordered my retrieval. And I needed to know. “Well, who do I belong to?”
“In due time, Lady Bergmont.” My formal title was his way of teasing me.
“Dommik, who?”
“Rhazien Kyrell.”
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? To belong to 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, what does he 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 anyone belong to 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.
“I’m tired.” I lied, closing my eyes. “And you’re warm.”
“I don’t buy it,” he grumbled into my hair. An onlooker may have confused us for lovers.
I sat upright. “Then just answer my questions.”
“Fine.” Dommik sighed in defeat. “One last question.”
I looked down at my hands, relieved he couldn’t see the nervousness on my face as I asked, “Could I ever belong to you?”
“No.”
“Oh.” His one-word answer hurt worse than the arrow I’d taken in the arm two nights prior.
Dommik cleared his throat and announced, “We’re here.”
Asher halted among the trees, a place no different than the leagues of forest we’d passed. Dommik effortlessly lowered himself to the ground but signaled for me to stay mounted. I happily obliged but twisted and stretched in the saddle.
Crunched footsteps on the gravel below drew my attention to a small cohort of sentinels emerging from the dark treeline. Dommik greeted each one of them by name before ushering the last one toward Asher.
“Gorvin Hale, meet Lady Reyva Bergmont.” The man gave a swooping bow, the motion exaggerated by the flowing sleeves of his decadent robes.
The moonlight cast shadows across his slender features—tense lips perfectly at home underneath a slightly crooked nose.
His slim jawline was clean-shaven to match what must have been a newly shaved head.
“At your service.”
I nodded, a natural response from meeting servants in my prior life.
“Gorvin is steward to the regent and will also oversee your personal attendants.” Dommik gave the lean vampire a hard pat on the back.
Unmoving, Gorvin didn’t reciprocate the familiarity, but coldly stated, “You’re behind schedule, Commander Thorne.”
A soldier led a new stallion to Dommik. He remounted with such fluidity, I would never have guessed he’d been bedridden with an injury the evening prior. “Yes, Gorvey. Had a bit of a hiccup.”
Gorvin’s jaw tensed at the nickname.
“My lady, His Majesty wanted me to deliver this gift to you.” Gorvin produced a long, velvet, hooded cloak. The soft, black fabric was decorated with intricate floral embroidery of the same color.
I discarded the ill-fitting cloak Dommik lent me and wrapped the gift around my shoulders. “Thank you, Gorvin.”
“It’s my pleasure.” Gorvin bowed.
Dommik brought his mount alongside Asher and whispered, “Now every citizen of the Hive will know you’re a royal guest.”
“They’ll know I’m his?”