Page 35 of Warrior's Reign
No matter. He downed it.
Distantly felt the alcohol search for purchase, but it would have to do much, much better. The selection they served on planet was nothing compared to what an Aeddannar lord could procure. Vykhan’s veins had tasted far more potent intoxicants.
Vykhan focused on Reign. A third male approached her. It was inevitable. She was young, beautiful, exotic with her human allure, and quite obviously alone. One might even think, unprotected.
She was a natural killer, he had seen her like—fools would try her at their peril. But the difference between her and him was that her soul was yet untarnished. Her honor untried. She grieved over the loss of her client, blamed herself, but he had studied the reports. She had almost died during that ambush. There was no shame.
He watched her rebuff two males and chat with a third, every appearance of a female choosing her companion for the evening. They flirted, attempted to ply her with food and drink, but eventually she dismissed them all, gaze roaming the establishment as if she hadn’t quite found the entertainment she was looking for yet.
Two hours into the evening, the atmosphere altered from an after work bar to a nightclub. The lighting darkened, hues shifting to blues and reds and purples, and an entertainment dais slid out from a far wall. The center section of tables and chairs sank into the floor, new tiles locking into place. A dance floor.
When the music started, people began to drift onto the floor. Vykhan watched Reign, who eyed the dancers, glanced around some more, then seemed to sigh. He felt some sympathy. If he had to guess, she was deciding the value of the attention she’d receive if she joined the dancers on the floor. They were still few enough that eyes would be on her.
And they needed eyes on her. Vykhan unclenched his jaw as he watched her dance. There was no guarantee their mark was even present tonight, despite Evvek’s algorithms.
Two more males attempted to gain Reign’s attention. Vykhan realized he was on the edge of his stool, fists clenched, after the second dared to put his hands on her hips. She seized the offending male’s fingers, twisting, and he howled. When she gave him a vicious smile, he backed away. She said something to the male and turned away from him.
This was intolerable.
Some part of his mind realized he had left his place at the far side of the bar and walked to the dance floor. Some part of him watched in bemusement as he stepped onto the floor, drifting towards the human cloaked in inescapable temptation.
He knew better than to touch her. But he allowed her to feel his presence at her back and when she turned, met her gaze.
Her eyes narrowed. She gave him a subtle once over, analyzing him. It was not possible she would know it was him under the glamor. For a moment he could simply be another suitor.
Every voice in the back of his mind snapped at him. What was he doing? He silenced them all. “Would you care for a partner?”
His voice was still not his own, but he dropped the eager tenor like trash, allowed a tendril of his true personality to slip the leash.
“Since you asked nicely,” she said. “Keep your hands where they belong, sugar.”
“Of course.” He stepped closer, counted the beats of the music, and slipped between them. It had been years since he had danced, but his body remembered. Recalled the feel of a female’s lush curves against his body as he seduced her with the music.
For a moment, he fought the memories, fought that side of his nature. This was Reign, and this was now. He might indulge. . .but just a little. To enhance her cover story.
“You’ll have to tell me where my hands are allowed.”
She gave him a droll look. “Well, that depends on how well you move.”
“Let me show you.”
It was a slower beat now, but pulsing with energy. He skimmed as close to her as she allowed, lowering his head to her ear. “For the record, you may put your hands wherever you wish.”
Her eyebrows flickered up as she craned her neck to look at him. “And I don’t even know your first name or what you do for a living.”
He gave her a lazy smile. “What I do for a living would bore you. You may name me whatever you like.”
“Right, Whatever I Like. A mystery man. That’s fine with me.”
She must have been pleased with his conduct thus far for she turned, giving him her back, but she brushed against his chest and when he settled his hands lightly on her hips, she didn’t attempt to eviscerate him.
Progress. Of course, she did not know it was him.
His hands clenched on her body, once, but he forced himself to hold her gently. Breathed in her scent and swam in the sensation of having her pressed against him. He felt himself begin to go a little mad, when there was a lull in the music, rescuing him.
“Tea?” he murmured in her ear.
“Tea?”
