Page 119 of Warrior's Reign
“I love you, Vykhan. If you let me in, let me see the parts you’re afraid of, I’ll love that too. You’re not any more fucked up than I am. It’s your choice.”
He didn’t stop her as she strode away.
* * *
She tried to exorcise her foul mood by punishing her body, returning to her suite to spend the next several hours in grueling exercise. Her muscles burned, sweat slicing over her skin. She showered and normally the hot water on abused muscles would soothe and prepare her for a satisfying sleep, but it was the wrong time in the cycle for sleep, and none of the exercise was substitute for what she wanted.
Vykhan under her, eyes glazed. Whether from passion, or pain because she was pummeling his face, she couldn’t quite decide. Either option appealed.
Unable to prowl her room any longer, she dressed in the simplest outfit in her wardrobe then left.
She entered the main club on Lohail’s deck and looked around. She’d tried to leave and go to a different level, but the guards had politely informed her that as a special guest of Lohail’s, she was to remain under his protection. She’d eyed the guards, considered pressing the issue, and decided against it.
This was one of the reasons no one on Ibukay’s force liked Anthhori. It was the Wild West, like in the time of historical North America. Each level claimed by a different owner who enforced their own rules, the entire station fiefdom a hotbed of trafficking that needed to be shut down, treaty or no.
Reign stalked to the bar and slid onto a stool. After brooding over a selection of drinks, she ordered.
“You don’t want that,” Lohail said, leaning on the counter next to her. He crooked a finger at the bartender, a male of medium height with shaggy auburn hair and faint brown stripes imprinted on skin with a dark orange tint.
“I don’t want to talk to you.”
He ignored her, and after a moment slid a drink under her nose. “Try this. What you ordered is for the tourists. They have no taste, and plenty of credits to spend.”
She sipped, staring into her glass, silently willing him to go away.You do not see me. You want to walk away.
He clucked his tongue. “None of that, my dear. Come, tell Papa Lohail. Why are you sitting here drinking yourself to a stupor? Why aren’t you with Vykhan?”
“Fuck Vykhan.”
“Yes, well, I was hoping. All the tension between you two curdles my wine. And if you expect to defeat Adevega when you aren’t in sync, you will both die. That would make me a little sad.”
“You would lose two of your best inroads to the palace.”
He smiled pleasantly. “Come, Reign.”
The bartender slid a second drink under her nose. She hadn’t realized she’d finished the first. There was no buzz. “This isn’t alcoholic.”
Lohail sipped. “It’s a hydrating vitamin tonic with adaptogens. You’ve had enough wine in the last cycle.”
“Are youmotheringme?”
He said nothing, simply watched her. Reign sighed. “Tell me the truth. Would Vykhan be this reluctant if I weren’t a nobody human? If I were from an old Beysikan line? Would he be afraid of losing his Silence if I was Yadeshi?”
“The root of Vykhan’s problems,” he said gently, “have nothing to do with you. They have more to do with me, if I flatter myself. But even I am not entirely to blame. Vykhan is one of those rare delicate flowers who doesn’t work well under pressure.”
Reign blinked at him. “The fuck?”
“Do you always curse like this?”
“No, actually, I never was much of a cusser. I seemed to have developed the habit in the last several weeks, though.”
“I don’t fault you.” He tapped a finger against his lips. “Your humanity is not a detriment. Embrace it. In fact, it may be your humanity that saves his. . .” Lohail grimaced “. . .soul.”
“I’m probably the one girl who doesn’t have a savior complex.” They lifted their glasses in a toast. “But. . .I’ll think about that.”
And about why she still felt the need to hide her humanity as if it were a cause for shame.
She’d trained, she’d excelled. She’d absorbed the cultures of two different Yadeshi provinces until she could maneuver like a native. Not a High Tier native, but whatever. She’d worked to the bone to prove she was worthy of every opportunity she’d been granted solely because her mother had fallen in love with the ‘right’ male.
