No Rush
“Incompetent IDIOTS! Where were you?!” Dommik scolded his subordinates while gently setting me down on a nearby bench. “A shade is loose on the grounds. Send for a priestess to seal the wards IMMEDIATELY.”
I gripped the seat as I struggled to take in air. The stare from that… thing… burned into my memory.
I was empty. Completely and utterly empty.
This was worse than the weight of Cova’s disappointment in me. This was worse than the loneliness of my loveless marriage. This was vast, unending, relentless, nothingness.
“I said IMMEDIATELY! GO!” Dommik repeated, his exposed fangs and volume garnering attention from party guests down the hall.
Guards scurried into action as Dommik turned his attention back to me. His wild eyes softened as he took me in.
I’m not hurt. I’m safe, I wanted to tell him. I wanted to believe it myself. Through each breath, I tried reaching for the words but they turned to ash in my throat.
He held my shoulders and even with the fabric of his jacket between us, the touch felt taboo. But I didn’t brush him away. The contact made me feel something besides the heavy void of nothingness.
Bring me back, I thought. I wanted to touch him and to tell him this was helping, but my limbs grew heavier by the second.
“Lovely, breathe with me. Breathe.” He demonstrated guided breaths and I followed his lead.
I closed my eyes—taking in a deep, measured breath—and I opened my eyes as I let out a synchronized exhale with Dommik. Pine, leather, and storm-filled eyes all grounded me back into reality.
A small smirk emerged across his square jaw. “There you go. Good girl.”
The touch. The praise.
He was doing a poor job of acting like I was ‘just an assignment’.
Dommik was reviving my breath for a second time when a tornadic wind shoved the commander aside. Rhazien’s was all fury and fangs. “Reyva. I’m here.”
Rhazien’s muscled arms and formal cloak created a cocoon around my body, enveloping me in his embrace, and I melted into the safety of the royal immortal.
“What happened?” He threw the question out to no one in particular as he inspected me.
Dommik responded with the bare minimum of information, but Rhazien was barely listening. He couldn’t be. Not with the way he was looking at me. His green eyes darted from cheek to cheek. Checking for harm. Or maybe traces from his commander.
“Enough. I’ll need a full report tomorrow. We’re done here.” His words were harsh and final to the vampires around us.
I buried myself into his shoulder and fixed my eyes on the stone floor. I couldn’t close them without conjuring the vision of the crimson glare from the phantom we’d encountered.
“Majesty, shall I disperse the party guests?” A new set of feet approached with a nimble gait.
“Not necessary, Gorvin. Let them enjoy themselves, but Lady Reyva and I will retire for the evening.” I breathed easier knowing I wouldn’t have to perform for the vampiric royal court of onlookers after…well, everything.
“Very good, Highness.” Gorvin’s signature agreeable demeanor ended their exchange and he excused himself.
Rhazien cupped my face in his hands as I sat up tall again. It didn’t take much searching to see the distress. “Dommik. Go. Confirm the Hive is secure and then entertain the guests or something.”
“I think it’s best if—”
Rhazien stood abruptly. “It wasn’t a question. It was an order. You’re dismissed.”
Go, I attempted to say, but no sound came. Dommik hesitated, tilting his head and giving me a final once over.
Which mask was this? He’d been the devilish charmer. The cold, loyal soldier. The comforting friend. But this was different. Like the stormy seas in his eyes had parted and I had a clear view of the vulnerable depth of the tides.
I gasped and blinked in surprise as Rhazien removed Dommik’s coat from my shoulders.
The stiff-backed regent stepped to his commander and placed the garment in his hands.
Dommik’s gaze never left me, even as his regent growled, “I appreciate your service but you are openly disobeying me. Go. Now. Valta has been asking for you.”
The sound of boots tapping on the stones drifted down the hallway as Dommik made his reluctant exit.
“Come, Reyva.” Rhazien collected me, helping me to stand, and before we left, I looked back just once to see Dommik shrugging away Valta’s outstretched hand at the end of the hall.
After clicking the lock into place, Rhazien whirled to each corner of my chambers, ensuring we were alone before returning to me.
With his forehead pressed to mine, he whispered, “We aren’t making a positive impression on you, are we?”
I cleared my throat, making way for the words to break through the lingering smoke and ash. “If you’re asking if I’ve felt more unsafe than safe under your care, you’d be assuming correctly.”
But, somehow, I am still alive.
Concern coated his handsome features. He brushed a loose strand of hair away from my face and his fangs retreated as we both regained some level of composure.
“I’m sorry you had to leave the party,” I apologized to the floor.
Tonight was supposed to be celebratory, not filled with theatrical gore and menacing entities. He’d said it was about me—introducing me, welcoming me—but also, what having a prospect meant for the Hive and its future.
His prospect was proving to be a lot of trouble.
My lungs constricted, weighing every breath.
The place in my mind I’d been shoving the atrocities of the last week cracked with every passing moment.
Between my thundering heart beats, the truth made itself undeniable—I can’t handle this.
A cry broke from my lips, shattering any sense of control I clung to, and tears carved into my face.
“Shh. Stop.” He wrapped me up in a comforting embrace. “Reyva, my jewel. Please, don’t give it another thought.”
His thumbs and lips alternated wiping and kissing my tears away.
My arms found their way around him as well.
The stubble of his beard scratched at my neck and face as he nuzzled into me and let me fall apart into him.
Rhazien’s muscled arms lifted me from the ground, cradling me in a way that made me feel like no one could ever touch or hurt me again.
“That’s better,” he whispered to me as he settled us onto the sofa in front of my fireplace.
My tapering sniffles and the crackling birch logs filled my chamber, but my mind was a cacophony of voices.
You're a worthless whore. Not worth the trouble. There’s nothing special about you. Any goodness died…DIED…DIED WITH YOUR MOTHER.
“Reyva?” My name cut through the chatter and I looked up at Rhazien through tear-soaked lashes. “How do you feel?”
“I feel…empty. Like a fragile husk,” I admitted.
His stare intensified. “Would you like something to help change that?”
Anything to get the image of the shade from my memory and shut off my mind.
“Yes,” I said weakly. “What is it?”
“Nothing you haven’t had before.”
I shook my head. “I don’t want any wine right now.”
Rhazien’s gaze hardened. “I wasn't offering wine.”
My curiosity was piqued but my words were flat and lifeless. “What then?”
Ivory fangs slid into view and Rhazien raised his finger to meet the tip of his protruding canine. He pressed the pad of his index finger until the skin broke open. My eyes focused on the bead he balanced atop the small wound.
My gaze bounced between his stare and his offering. When I’d first met him and had ‘just a drop’ of blood mixed in my wine, it had sent me into a state of blind lust. He’d resisted me then and I’d appreciated it. But now, I wouldn’t want him to hold back.
“You’ll stay with me?” I look at him with pleading eyes.
“Of course.” He nodded. I adjusted myself, sitting up a bit straighter. He withdrew his finger and cautioned, “You know what this means, right? You understand how your body will react?”
I did. And maybe if I weren’t an empty shell of myself, I would be more worried about the way I began to salivate at the sight of his crimson lifeforce.
“Reyva,” he said my name like he was tugging at a leash, commanding my attention. “I need you to say you understand because I want to court you properly, but fighting my nature takes a great deal of willpower. And I’ve been losing that battle since I met you.”
An echo of a familiar heat rose and fell against the nothingness, a fervor reflected in his gaze.
I lifted my hand to his wrist, slowly pulled it toward my mouth, whispered, “I understand,” and wrapped my lips around the tip of his finger.
The blood was a medley of flavor. At first, the familiar tang of iron, but then a sour flare, finished with a heated sweetness. Like the cinnamon candies Cova loved.
A low rumble vibrated through Rhazien’s chest as I took his finger, sucking harder from the cut. My sleeping senses stretched and yawned from beneath the blanket of the shade’s despair.
“Not too much,” Rhazien cautioned and I gasped as he pulled his finger from my mouth. Like a quick-acting poison, Rhazien’s blood rushed through me, waking up each of my nerve endings with more precision and speed than it had when it was mixed in my wine.
The flames from the tapered candles around my chambers sang a low-pitched hum of a fire song. They bent and swayed, trying to get the best view of the vampire regent and his human prospect.
I looked down at the immortal man beneath me, my lips parted. Rhazien ran his thumb over my bottom lip, leaving a sizzling sensation in its wake. Heat rose in my cheeks, a welcome change to the nothingness. His touch was like the first rays of sunrise defrosting the evening dew.
“How are you feeling now?” he asked, cupping my face in his hand.
“Like I’m kindling to a wildfire.” I gestured down at my gown. “And…this dress is too hot, too heavy.”
“Hmm.” Under two knitted brows, he inspected the glittering garment. “Well, let’s get rid of it, then.”
It’s exactly what I wanted him to say.
“Thank you,” I whispered as he guided me to stand with him.
He was capable of speed, I’d seen it. From him. From Dommik. But now, Rhazien moved with a calculated slowness.