Page 121 of Warrior's Reign
He was waiting for her.
Reign halted, staring at him, then walked forward. The corridors had gradually widened as she walked, and he stood under an arched threshold which clearly separated quarters assigned to guests from those of thelords.
The male who watched her was not Vykhan, was not Eredan. She supposed he was Lord Vykhan. Draped in dense black silks, chest bared, hair and makeup so expertly androgynous she knew he must have once perfected the use of his beauty to lure.
“Vykhan.”
“Obe’shan.”
So it was like that. “Still pissy?”
She sauntered past him, and he was at her back instantly, his chest bumping into her as he herded her in the direction of his suite. He stopped in front of fancy doors and waited for a retinal scan, then stepped aside and gestured for her to precede him.
Reign stepped in, and blinked. “This isn’t like your place on planet, is it?”
Gone were the serene masculine neutrals and lush use of plant life to create a sense of outdoor luxury. The quiet homage to nature and Silence. White gleaming floors, black furniture. Glossy black table and transparent glass walls leading to a bedroom with a giant black bed. The walls—Reign stared. And almost blushed when she realized the uses of some of the equipment lining the walls.
“Black,” she remarked, voice pleasant. “To match your emotionally closed off, ghosting little emo soul, Eredan?” Might as well pick the fight early on, get things started.
His chest bumped her shoulder again, and she got out of his way, the door sliding closed behind them.
When it closed, a low pulsing beat of music began drifting through the air, and the lights shifted, creating womb like ambience. Well, pussy like anyway, because she wasn’t thinking of anything as wholesome as a womb right now.
Fingers skimmed her bare shoulders, down her arms. “You’re trying to start a fight, Reign,” he said in her ear. “You will fail. But if you wish to talk, we will talk.”
She knew what a male meant when he said talk in that tone of voice. Reign turned, his hands spanning her waist.
“I don’t want to revenge fuck, Vykhan. Your friend got a taste and now you want to erase that or something.”
He shook his head. “I don’t care about that. It was inevitable.”
“What does that mean?”
“I know you, Arreina. You want me.” He pulled her flush against his body. “I know you love me, and you love the way you do everything else. Absolutely, with room for nothing else. And Lohail was right—I left you. I can guess the methods he used to seduce you as well.”
She didn’t like the knowing look in his eyes. When his voice deepened into a croon, she wanted to kick him. “Tell me, whose name did you really call when he tasted you? Whose face was he wearing?”
The bastard. Both of them. “I love Eredan. Vykhan can go Silent himself into an early grave.”
She hated that the words came out more sulky than enraged, but his thumbs caressing the curve of her waist, the softening of the angry tension in his body were nearly soothing. That was probably his intention.
He laughed. “I might yet, but not before we’ve yielded.”
When he lowered his head, she slapped a hand on his chest. “No.”
Blue eyes flared. “Be specific. To what are you saying no?”
Reign pulled away from him, taking a deep breath. She exhaled noisily, closing her eyes to orient herself. Well, brace herself.
Her heart was pumping desire through her body like it was blood, and her head spun from the need to just give in and let him do whatever he wanted to her. To take him in return and feast the way she’d imagined for so many years.
How had she ever fooled herself into not knowing Vykhan was Eredan? They moved the same, smelled the same. Vykhan sounded like she’d always imagined Eredan would sound. And his hands. His touch was the same.
“I love you,” she heard herself say. “You’re the only male I’ve ever loved, and I’ve carried that with me for a long time now. We have to work together when this complication with Adevega is over. We are supposedly engaged to be married. Can I say I still don’t know how that happened? But I digress.”
She opened her eyes and stared at him. “And you’re right, I only do absolutes. So unless your inner boy can pick up the little pieces of your tortured soul and come to terms with whatever dirt you think you’ve done—”
—and she really wanted to roll her eyes at that. Dirt? Vykhan? Whatever he thought he’d done, she doubted it was anything truly evil. She’d seen evil, and Vykhan’s soul shone, it was so good. It was part of his power over others. If angels walked on planet, he would be one.
