New Normal #3
My palm met his black linen shirt and I effortlessly fell into a fresh vision.
Through the tunnel of his memory, Dommik walked the halls of the Hive.
He stood tall, looking ahead but not paying any mind to the people—mostly other guards in their leathers—or portraits in the halls.
He was too distracted. His nerves crackled like the air of an approaching lightning storm.
Passing a portrait of a particularly gruesome battle scene, he ducked into a chamber. Its contents weren’t as large as mine, but they were luxurious. I felt him exhale, but his relief didn’t quite reach the emotions echoing in his memory.
Back in my body, I wanted to shake my hands out. His mounting anxiety overwhelmed my senses.
The tunnel tightened, as it often did when a memory threatened to collapse.
Where is it, Dommik?
He knew how taxing this could be for me. To ask me to do this before an event was…inconsiderate, irresponsible even. He had to have known what an event like this must mean for me. And for Rhazien.
Dommik approached a dresser, atop it sat a platter with four different amber-hued bottles of whiskey.
He selected a short and stout bottle, popped the cork off and filled a glass.
The liquor burned the back of his throat as he shot it down in one swift swig.
That solved the mystery of his aroma tonight.
This couldn’t possibly be the right memory. This was a waste of time and energy. I nearly withdrew my hand from his chest but then he opened the top drawer.
There, glistening from the darkness, was the matching pearl-petaled hair clip. Again, thinking my task was complete, I considered withdrawing my hand, but then he spoke.
“Reyva, I need you to know something,” he rumbled as he poured one more glass of whiskey. I waited for him to down the contents of this glass too. Impatiently, but still, I waited. From the gathering nerves I could feel clawing in his chest, I knew this mattered greatly to him.
“I need you to know,” he drummed his fingers on the wood of the dresser, “that I’ve tried my best.”
If I weren’t frozen in my vision, I would have licked my lips, but my mouth went completely dry as I understood exactly where this was going.
“It’s my fault. All of this. I shouldn’t have been so familiar. I shouldn’t have…after that arrow went into your arm…” he continued in his low tone. He was alone in what I assumed was his room but never out of earshot from curious servants. “I should have been more focused. More careful.”
Beyond the tunnel of this memory, a second image appeared. Rather than a steady stream of vision, this came in flashes.
Smiling teeth, a thudding heart, gasping breath, screaming. Then it was gone, but Dommik was changed. The pain of the fleeting memory remained, and he fought to bury it deep down beneath the whiskey in his belly until it receded to the depths of his mind.
“But we’re here now and I can’t take it back. Knowing you is torture,” he gritted.
I knew exactly what he meant. Rhazien had explained it to me, that tasting a person is not only in a vampire's nature for sustenance, but it is like a window into the human soul. The core of who they are. Rhazien hadn’t tasted me, but Dommik had. Dommik knew me.
I could feel the strength building behind his next words. Dommik was stretching, reaching for every ounce of bravery he could muster.
“I’m going to see you tonight. I’m going to see you on his arm and have to be faced with the truth that we can never—”
I lifted my hand from his chest, returning to my body with the grace of a newborn deer. I stumbled backward, hoping a piece of furniture could anchor back on this plane, but Dommik, ever the protector, was behind me. A soft but steady touch gave me just enough support to regain balance.
I whirled to meet his gaze, anger climbing up my spine.
“It's in your dresser,” I bit out.
“Correct.” He held my gaze, brows raised as if waiting for me to continue. To react. But what good would reacting do? What good did him admitting anything do?
The night of my welcome ball, I’d been angry that he hadn’t been truthful, that he’d insisted there was nothing between us.
But as time passed, I’d decided it was for the best. The mature, responsible thing to do was to accept our places, our positions within the Hive and just move on.
What was at stake for the vampires and humans alike all across Atoris was much more important than… than…an infatuation.
I didn’t want to hear it. Saying it out loud makes it too real. Words had power, but then again so did thoughts.
“What about—”
I held up a silencing hand.
“I need to go before—” I waved to the freshly stocked vases around my chambers “—before I start sneezing and ruin my makeup.”
I yanked the door open, not waiting to see if my escort believed the excuse for my quick departure. My skirts fought to keep up with my elongated steps.
This was not how I wanted this evening to go.
I didn’t want to be angry. Angry at Rhazien for leaving me to arrive at the reception alone. Angry at Dommik for ruffling my feathers. And angry at myself for letting him.
That will not happen again, I vowed, feeling the promise to myself sink deep into my marrow. I was reclaiming my power and forging my own destiny. My future would lead to a crown and immortal happiness next to Dommik’s regent. I will not stray. I am Rhazien’s.