Valta #2
“Poor Vaspy. He’s a venomous little thing but he’s so loyal. I have a soft spot for him.” She pushed out her bottom lip in a performative pout.
Rhazien raised his brows and tipped his glass in her direction.
“My lady, in the kindest way possible, I doubt anything about you is soft.” I abstained from joining the chuckles sprinkled around our dining table for fear that if I partook in any merriment at Valta’s expense, I would end up drained of blood and with my head on a spike in her bedroom.
“True. Hard lives forge hard people.” She exhaled into her goblet before taking a conservative drink.
Dommik scoffed, “Yes, your posh life has been quite hard on you.”
Without looking in my direction, Rhazien offered his upturned hand to me and I took it willingly.
The touch was like a lifeline in this foreign and unforgiving sea of social circumstance.
I knew how to attend formal dinner parties with humans, even royals, who oftentimes seemed like a separate species entirely.
But not vampires. This was new, frightening territory.
Dommik’s attention flicked to our hands before returning to his plate. Rhazien’s thumb gently stroked my skin like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Silverware lightly sang as Dommik set down the utensils on his half eaten filet. He turned his body to Valta and purred, “Speaking of hard things—” Valta shook her bare shoulders and giggled “—I hoped we could spend some time together. Alone. After our meal.”
“Yes, please!” she nearly squealed.
Dommik looked at Gorvin, who remained unimpressed by their conversation. “That is, unless you require my assistance for event preparations.”
“I do not,” Gorvin responded with a simple coldness from the opposite end of the table, working away at his own cut of meat.
Rhazien coughed at the exchange, a poor attempt at hiding his amusement.
“And you, Majesty? Will you permit me to tend to Lady Valta?”
“Oh, yes, please, Majesty,” Valta reached for Dommik beneath the table as she pouted. “I think we both need tending to.”
Rhazien’s thumb continued its patrol while his opposite hand swirled the thick blood within his goblet. “Please, Commander Thorne. Prioritize our esteemed guest.”
I pressed my lips into a firm line, determined to focus on the handsome regent caressing my hand and not the dastardly commander.
“Oh goody. And here I was worried tonight was going to be a snore.” The two rose to leave. “Your Majesty. And lady…human. I’ve already forgotten your name.”
Rhazien slammed his hand on the table, clattering silverware and tipping goblets. “Valta! Insult Lady Reyva again and you’ll be banished from court. Indefinitely.”
The room was silent and still as an empty graveyard. Even the dancing candle flames halted their flickering sway at Rhazien’s outburst.
Valta’s stare could have turned me to stone but she complied, “Of course. Lady Reyva, I was only teasing. Looking forward to spending more time together at the ball tomorrow.”
In a dramatic show, she curtsied. Her small frame was swallowed by the fabric of her gown before Dommik, without looking back, escorted her out of the room.
Giggles and whispers followed them until a servant shut the door, leaving Gorvin, Rhazien, and me to our meal.
The regent patted my hand twice, a simple assuring gesture.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I whispered. Valta likely knew better, but seemingly didn’t care. The help would spread news of her behavior and Rhazien’s reaction faster than a summer wildfire.
“Of course I did.” A chuckle rumbled through Rhazien’s broad chest. “Insulting you equates to insulting me, and that behavior is not tolerated in any Hive.”
A hum bloomed in my chest at his insistence on the matter.
For years, tongues wagged about my infertility, my private practices with medicinal herbs, my rumored affair, and finally, my presumed guilt for murdering my late husband.
Even when Hollis had been alive, he did next to nothing to curb the narrative.
He’d have some excuse about a future business deal that was ‘too important to muck up over some misunderstood comment, dear’.
But Rhazien, he wouldn’t even let Valta forget my name before publicly protecting me. There wasn’t a crumb of hesitation. He acted quickly with bold clarity and I admired him for that.
“With your permission, Majesty, I too will take my leave.” Gorvin didn’t wait for a response. His exit was as swift and graceful as his practiced bow.
The regent pulled his chair closer to mine and I turned to face him.
“You look stunning tonight, my lady,” he said. The compliment simmered in my chest.
“Thank you, Majesty.” A blush crept across my cheeks.
“Are you looking forward to your ball tomorrow?” Rhazien curled a foot around my ankle.
“It’s a most gracious offering, Majes—”
“Rhazien.” He gently tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, green eyes glimmering. “Please, when we’re alone, call me Rhazien.”
My cheeks heated from his touch. “Rhazien.”
He let out a small hum behind a close-lipped smile.
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.