The Northern Hive #2
His eyes feasted on my reflection, working their way up from my navel, my bare collarbone, my blood red lips.
Dommik really needed lessons from Alba on how to mask his thoughts, his attraction worn bare and obvious in his hungry stare.
Unless…he wanted me to see. Cova always said my vanity would be the death of me.
Dommik cleared his throat and rolled his shoulders back. “I’m here to escort you.”
“Oh?” I cocked a brow, resting my chin on my knuckles. “And where is His Majesty?”
A muscle feathered in his jaw. “He and Eryx went straight from their negotiations to the reception. He sent me in his stead.”
Again.
“I see.” Disappointment dripped from my words.
Rhazien had been so insistent on showing up with me on his arm to Hive events.
To present a united front. To show I was his.
There had to be a logical reason for his actions and I assured myself that he would reveal his plans to me when he was able.
Just like I would tell him about my impending cycle when I was able.
Rhazien was very important—a direct fledgling from Lorana and a regent of a vampire Hive, and I was famously not.
Not yet, anyway. I was still just the human prospect sitting, waiting, twiddling my thumbs, and wrestling with my doubt, while he did whatever was deemed necessary to complete business.
My ears went hot and I suddenly wanted to be alone.
“Did His Majesty send any other words?” At the very least, I expected an apology.
“No.” The truth rode the exhale through Dommik’s flared nostrils.
I scoffed, laying my hands flat on the vanity table. Rhazien’s absence and tendency to use Dommik as a substitute was becoming a habit.
The commander tugged at the hem of his sleeves. “My lady, did he speak to you—educate you about this place?”
“He said,” I exhaled to the stone ceiling, “things are different here.”
“That’s right.” Dommik stepped closer, his silhouette blocking the fireplace behind him. “Different. More dangerous. Vampires here don’t show restraint for the sake of human comfort like in Rhazien’s Hive. They don’t hide their true nature.”
An icy claw of fear traced down my spine and I fought to steady my breath. I had an important role here. A job to do. I just thought I’d have Rhazien by my side to do it. Instead, I would walk the halls of this nest of nightmarish monsters without him while he did…whatever vampiric regents do.
I’d been staring, diverted and distant. I blinked his reflection back into focus when he suggested, “We should pick a signal or safe word. Something easy to remember that would cue we need to speak or leave or both.”
“A safe word?” I repeated in a dim whisper.
His dark hair bobbed with a prompting nod. I had to admit, it was a good idea.
“A safe word.” My teeth pinched the flesh of my cheek and my eyes darted as I searched for the perfect word.
“How about—” Dommik stepped toward me again, close enough now to touch “—prayer.”
Heat seared the base of my neck and my eyes flew to his.
His palms lifted in surrender. “It’s a non-threatening, common word. And see, look how quickly you reacted.”
I shook my head and rolled my eyes. I didn’t have a better suggestion. “Fine,” I conceded.
“Something is…off with you.” His voice was close enough now that his words vibrated across the beads of my gown.
I turned to face him. “What a strange way to give a compliment. I think you look very nice as well.”
“No—that’s not—”
I lifted a hand. Of course he hadn’t meant it that way.
I was just frustrated that our first conversation since he admitted having feelings for me was about safe words and how Rhazien couldn’t follow through on a simple promise, again.
A situation made more awkward when the handsome commander continued to step in as his second.
“Why don’t you just tell me exactly what you mean,” I said steadily, gathering composure from every corner of my being.
“You smell—” he paused, inhaling like a hound “—different.”
Alba spoke up from the corner of the room. “It may be Gorvin’s tonic she’s been drinking. Lady Reyva has felt unwell since yesterday.”
“I heard you were feeling unwell during our travels.” The immortal commander looked from my chambermaid to me and clenched his jaw as he inhaled again. “My lady, I need you to tell me right now if there’s a possibility you’re pregnant.”
Alba stifled a gasp beneath her gray robes.
“I’m sorry to be so forward, but it's imperative you’re honest with me.”
It was a considerable effort to hide my shaking fists. “That would be impossible.”
The words were laced with disdain. I’d accepted my reality years prior, but something about saying it out loud to Dommik weighed me like stones around my ankles.
He raised a brow, took a small step closer to me, and whispered, “Reyva. Are you absolutely sure?”
The question made me wish I had something heavy to throw at him. His honed ability to constantly overstep infuriated me.
“Hear me,” my voice cracked along with what remained of my facade, “it’s not possible for me to get pregnant.”
My discomfort from cramping, my exhaustion from travel, my disappointment in Rhazien, and now my fury at Dommik’s question swirled, their components transforming into a flammable mixture of emotions.
I hated crying, but tears fell all the same.
Alba approached with a tissue in hand but Dommik raised a hand, stilling her. He plucked the fabric from my chambermaid and whispered, “Leave us.”
“My lord—” she stammered.
“Leave. Us,” he bit out over his broad shoulder.
I wiped a tear and nodded to Alba. Angry as I was at him, I knew Dommik. He would never harm me. And there were some things I needed to say to him, and him alone.
“It’s fine,” I assured her through a sniffle.
The door shut softly behind Alba. Dommik handed me the tissue and I gently tapped at my eyes to carefully soak up the tears without ruining my make up.
“I’m sorry.” Dommik stepped closer.
“It's fine,” I repeated. I don’t know why I bothered attempting to lie to him. He knew me. From my deepest shame to my darkest truths.
“It’s not,” he whispered again as if not only apologizing for his words, but as if he could see the pain admitting my biological shortcomings gave me.
I wanted to be held. For him to reach out and touch me. Wrap his arms around me. Distract me from this feeling I thought I’d buried years ago. That I’m safe. That I’m wanted. To tell me I’m not broken. That I’m worth choosing even if I couldn’t give something in return.
It’s all I’d ever known. Me and every other woman in Atoris were told to grow up, find a good marriage match that elevates your family, never deter from obedience, and give as many children as possible.
My one child was deemed a bastard and kept secret, and because of what her birth did to my body, the midwife said I would never bear another child ever again.
I was damaged goods when my father arranged my marriage to Hollis Ashford.
Perhaps he didn’t believe the midwife. Perhaps he didn't want the financial burden of two unwed daughters under his roof.
“I’m fine,” I lied again.
“Reyva. Stop,” Dommik declared quietly, earning my attention. “You’re not fine. And I thought we already established that you could admit that to me.”
We’d established no such thing. He’d been there in a time of need, stepping over his self-proclaimed boundary that I was just an assignment.
And then he manipulated my gift to deliver the secret message of his pained affection.
Dommik was someone I could trust with my physical wellbeing, especially in this dangerous place, but my mind was at constant war with him.
“I cannot keep up with you. You’re impossible to predict,” I scoffed, pacing away from him. I wrapped my arms around my middle. The perfectly practiced speech I’d prepared evaporated into nothing and instead I blurted, “I’m just an assignment.”
Dommik’s stance went rigid, every muscle tensing beneath his onyx clothing.
“If you truly support Rhazien and the future he’s trying to build, then I need to just be an assignment.” My fingers dug into my arms as I waited for a response, any response. I rolled my lips together and impatiently asked, “Are we in agreement?”
I needed this, to hear him say it. Not only that he agreed, but that he could mean it.
“Yes,” he said and my shoulders relaxed a little.
I raised my brows, waiting for him to continue. Surely there was more to his statement. “Yes, what?”
Dommik stood tall in his stillness. His lip twitched, a condescending remark hidden behind the ghost of a smile. His knuckles cracked beneath his palms before he raised them to me. “We are in agreement.”
His hesitant cadence didn’t convince me in the slightest.
“Good,” I said, dropping my arms and kneading my hands together. There were larger efforts at play here, and at the very least, we could pause this tug of war between duties and feelings until we were back in our own Hive.
Or perhaps being here, in this place of violence and painful memories, would remind him what we were working toward—a new future and era of peace across all Atoris.
That is, if everything went to plan. If I became shadowbound to Rhazien, ruling beside him and showing both the vampires of the north and the human realm to the south what a peaceful, cohesive future could look like.
If we found Lorana’s stone and Atoris didn’t descend into a bloody war for vampiric rule.
Staying the path was the right thing to do. It would benefit the most people.
Even with so much hinging on these pivotal moments, why couldn’t I shake the feeling like I would be denying myself happiness by severing my interest in Dommik?
I chalked it up to a selfish, foolish piece of me. It was a greedy, lust-filled whisper from the recesses of my mind that I wouldn’t give attention or credence to. This desire was a younger me. One I hoped I had buried for good.