Sounds Complicated
Multiple sets of feet descending the cellar stairs sent me into a state of alarm. A well-armed, broad-shouldered guard with dark brown locs found me huddled behind a wine cask, wielding a candlestick.
Shaw.
I relaxed once I saw Dommik following behind him.
“Well, at least we know you wouldn’t go down without a fight.” Dommik eyed the candlestick, then the oversized pants. “Soldier, you’re doing the Hive and your regent a great service,” Dommik commended Alba’s suitor.
“Thank you again for trusting me with this post.” Shaw stood with his back stiff as a plank, eye to eye with Dommik.
Clang.
I’d intended to set the candlestick on a flat surface, but it toppled and fell to the floor.
“What’s happening?” My gaze swiveled between the men.
Dommik adjusted his rucksack. “Shaw is going to stay with you. Consider his orders my own.”
I narrowed my gaze. “I thought I was the one who commanded others.”
“Not tonight, my lady. Not until we secure your passage back to the Hive.”
There was so much unsaid between us and I needed more time to talk and figure us out. Rushing back to the Hive when my mind was a tumultuous battlefield, pushing and pulling between my complicated feelings for both Rhazien and Dommik, felt like a grave mistake.
The commander turned his attention to his soldier. “She has a tendency to rebel against instructions. I recommend you don’t fall asleep while you’re with her. Someone will be here to relieve you again at sunset.”
“Someone? Not you?” The half of me that wasn’t concerned was confused. He suddenly was going to entrust me to just anyone after their guard had been infiltrated. After all, he'd confessed as much just a day ago. Or was his nonchalance an act?
Dommik smiled, winked, and disappeared up the stairwell.
Shaw let out a heavy exhale as he glowered at me. “Your name isn’t Lyra, is it?”
Shaw spent hours alternating between perimeter checks outside and weapons care in the cellar.
With the events of the last day running through my mind, rest was impossible. And although I’d become accustomed to sleeping during the day, I missed the sun. It felt like a crime to be down in the dark by choice.
With little else to do, I decided to dig for information from Shaw. “So, how did you and Alba meet?”
He gestured for me to join him at the table. “The commander said you’d pester me.”
“He thinks he knows me,” I complained as I sat.
“It sounds like he does,” he said as he poured water from a pouch into a small mug.
“Maybe not as well as you know Alba,” I teased as I nibbled on an apple slice. His eyes flickered from the liquid to mine as he weighed his next words.
Shaw clasped his calloused hands together before pointing to me. “Who are you to her?”
“A friend,” I said, using the back of my hand to cover my mouth as I munched.
“A friend.” He chuckled, brilliant white teeth gleaming. “Well, if we’re not going to tell each other the truth, then we are done asking questions.”
His sharpened words were an icy contrast from the charmer I’d met at the tavern, but that didn’t surprise me.
He was part of the Day Guard. Most, if not all, of its members had checkered pasts.
I wondered what kind of criminal Shaw had been to end up amongst its ranks.
As well as what he’d done since to earn Dommik’s trust. Whatever it had been, it probably wasn’t anything honorable.
“And…she attends to me.”
“Ah.” A shimmer of recognition flashed across his features.
“She’s mentioned me?”
“She’s light on the details but yes, on occasion,” he admitted, tilting his head side to side. The motion crinkled and flexed the tattoos peeking from just under his shirt collar. “She also felt terrible when you went missing from Last Light and spilled all the beans to me.”
Curiosity crept through me. I swallowed my most recent bite. “Details like what?”
His eyes flicked up from the apple he was carving. “She said she feels sad for you.”
“Sad? Why would she feel sad for me?” My voice lifted as if I wanted to convince him there was nothing to feel sorry about when it came to me.
Shaw closed his knife and leaned back. “I thought you two were friends. Maybe you should ask her yourself.”
He offered me more freshly cut apple slices. I accepted and studied him, but his face was as rough as the stone around us and was completely unreadable. If he knew more, he hid it well.
Instead of wondering what he could have learned through ale-impaired confessions or pillow talk, I decided to make him an offer.
“My name isn't Lyra, it's Reyva,” I admitted.
“Reyva, huh? Yeah. I see it. I like Lyra better, but I see it.” He shrugged. “Just Reyva? No family name?”
“Bergmont,” I said, opting for my maiden name. My married name was never really mine anyway.
“Nice to meet you, Reyva Bergmont.” Shaw’s locs fell forward as he tilted his head in a seated bow. “So, now I know your real name. But I’m curious, who are you? To him?” He nodded toward the upper floor of the manor.
I nearly choked on an apple slice. “To Dom—I mean, Commander Thorne?”
“Mmm.” He raised his dark brows playfully.
“Nothing like that,” I insisted.
“It never is, love.” He winked and clearly didn’t believe me. I didn’t believe me. My twiddling thumbs had never been more interesting.
“He’s…” I struggled to answer. Who was Dommik to me? The question hung like the air on a humid summer’s day.
“He’s someone to you,” Shaw prompted.
I didn’t deny it. My lips pressed into a firm line as if to hold in my admission that yes, infuriating as he was, as conflicted as I felt about all he’d done since we met, yes, he was special to me. I did feel for him. But I didn’t know how to describe it. Not as clearly as Dommik had, anyway.
I bristled in my silence and Shaw read me like every thought was written on Dommik’s clothes I still wore. “Sounds complicated.”
A short laugh escaped me. “You have no idea.”
Our jovial exchange immediately shifted when we heard voices above us, muffled by the stone and wooden floorboards. Shaw stood, shielding me with his body as the voices approached.
“You’re clear, soldier,” Dommik called down the stairs. He wasn’t alone.
Shaw went up first, and I followed closely behind. Dommik was more shadow than man at the top of the stairs and my heart fluttered at the sight of him.
The entryway was host to a handful of vampire and Day Guard soldiers in their respective uniforms. They parted so a man in a familiar crown could stride through the entrance.
“My jewel! By the Four, I was so worried about you.” Rhazien swept me into his arms and spun me, sending dust into a swirl around us.
“You’re here,” I said softly.
“I’m here. I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner.” Rhazien mistook my feeble salutation as worry that mirrored his own.
I found myself trapped in his embrace. Over Rhazien’s shoulder, I glanced at Shaw, whose gaze ricocheted between myself, his commander, and the regent. His discerning brown eyes were putting together the pieces of our complicated puzzle.
“You must be exhausted.” Rhazien guided me out of the fallen manor. “What are you wearing? Let’s get you home.”
He continued fawning over me and hastily led me to his light-tight carriage. I looked back to the manor and saw Dommik standing, hand on the hilt of his sword, in the entryway of the home. His home.
I held his gaze until the carriage door slammed closed. We needed to talk but I needed more time—the one thing vampires had in abundance. But with the approaching Winter Solstice, it was running out.
I feigned a yawn and wiped my eye, collecting a fresh tear from its corner.
Rhazien and I sat across from each other just as we had when we first met, and I didn’t realize it was possible, but I was more unsure and afraid of him now than I was when he had been a stranger.
“Gorvin was in quite—” he searched for the word “—a state in your absence.”
“Was he?” I didn’t know where to look. How to sit. Everything I did felt strange, like a puppet master was maneuvering me into unnatural positions.
Rhazien leaned forward and placed a hand on my knee. His arm, the bridge between us, steadied me slightly. I looked at him and found his green eyes filled with concern.
“I’m so glad you’re safe.” He meant it. Everything about him meant it. He was clear eyed and clean shaven. Not the erratic, disheveled creature I’d left at the Northern Hive.
I smiled softly, unsure how to respond. The echoes of my vision with a head bobbing between his legs was too fresh and too painful to ignore.
“You must be exhausted.” His thumb stroked my knee. I tensed beneath his touch.
Hurt flashed across his emerald irises, changing the look of longing to one of concern.
“Reyva,” he rasped. “Dommik told me what happened. If I could have killed those men myself, I would have. Slowly.”
The carriage jostled us as it bounced along the gravel road back to the Hive, but Rhazien didn’t move his hand.
I blinked slowly and looked down at my bare feet. My crossed ankles were nestled between his legs.
“Reyva.” His finger gently prompted my chin upward so I met his gaze again. “I was devastated when you left.”
I almost snapped at that. He’d left me in windowless confinement for three days at the Northern Hive. When he knew I was near, he did nothing to acknowledge or comfort me…but once I’d left, he was devastated?
Wicked heat rose in my chest, but I was hungover and distracted by Shaw’s question.
Who is he to you?
My head pounded, refusing to define who Dommik was to me.
“I’m sorry,” I finally said, because it felt rude to say nothing. Hot tears pricked my eyes and he pulled me into him.
“Oh, love.” He pushed my hair back, his lips following the path of his hands.
Kisses on my brow and cheeks. His lips stole the tears falling from my eyes until they found my lips.
He pressed into me and I froze. One hand gripped the back of my neck and as we parted, he left his forehead pressed into mine. We bounced in time with the carriage.