Page 116 of Warrior's Reign
Lohail eyes turned from bleary and resentful that he was awake so early, to predatory and sensual. “Oh, so we aren’t pretending nothing happened?” A sly smile curved his lips. “Are you quite sure? Your First may not like it.”
“I’ll deal with—”
“Ah, Vykhan. So good of you to join us. Reign was just telling me of the deplorable working conditions in the palace.”
Her back stiffened. She didn’t turn, instead taking a chair and settling down. She grabbed the plate and filled it with carbs. Not the healthy kind. The lifeline kind.
“Here.” Lohail pushed a small dish filled with viscous golden liquid towards her. “I know how you enjoy the taste of. . .honey.”
She scowled at him.
Vykhan took a seat opposite her, so she would have to work to avoid his gaze. Reign rose, reaching for a carafe of coffee and an empty mug. She poured a cup then walked around the table, movements crisp. She set the cup down, then stood at attention.
“Sir? Do you take cream and sugar?”
“Oh, he enjoys cream as much as any other male, though I enjoyed it myself rather too much last night.” Lohail lifted his cup of black sludge and smirked before sipping.
Vykhan’s finger tapped the table, then stilled. After a moment, he brushed it along the back of her hand. “Go eat, Reign. You don’t need to serve me.”
He spoke quietly. But the single brush of his finger against her hand accelerated her heart rate and began to worm its way under the carefully constructed barriers she’d erected after waking this morning. She returned to her side of the table, still not looking at him.
“Did I mention how lovely you look?” Lohail murmured.
Reign looked down at herself. She was wearing the white dress she’d refused last night, though she’d covered it with a long sea blue duster. It was supposed to be a bribe for him to keep his mouth shut and let her steer the conversation.
“Not you, Vykhan, you vain creature. I knew the white would suit her. I offered her the gown when she arrived, but she refused my gift and chose your dress instead. An omen, I suppose.”
“She wasn’t in a position to accept it,” Vykhan said. “I would also be wary of a gift from you.”
“Really? I can think of so many delectable positions for her. Reign, I meant to ask you about the white dress last night when I came by, but it quite slipped my mind.”
Vykhan gave him an impassive stare.
Lohail smiled at him. “You never did like to share, but perhaps. . .”
“She will slit your throat, and offer your blood to Haeemah. Don’t be a fool.”
“Oh,oneof us was a fool last night. Andoneof us drank of the sweetest wine.”
Vykhan’s expression tightened around the eyes. She would have missed it if she hadn’t been watching for a reaction.
“You’re trying to anger me.” Vykhan settled back in his chair, utterly relaxed. “Fortunately for you, I find my control rather slipping of late. Tell me more, Lohail, about this new vintage of wine.”
Reign could barely stomach their testosterone laden byplay, and choked down her pastry. She wished Lohail would stop toying with Vykhan, but that’s probably what she deserved for double dipping. What was wrong with her? Besides a clearly healthy libido.
“Lohail?” Vykhan prompted in a pleasant, almost sweet, voice that brought chills up her spine.
She tensed, carefully setting down her cutlery and noting the location of everything sharp on the table. Not that Eredan needed anything but his hands.
Lohail eyed him, fussing with his coffee. Vykhan smiled, a cruel, cold, amused smile. “I don’t play games, Lohail. And you already know I do not share.”
If Lohail was smart, he’d shut his mouth. Not to fool oneself, she’d cross it merrily—but at least she’d be expecting one hell of a fight, and a glorious death.
A fight she wanted. Blood, booze, or sex. The only three options to assuage her current mood, and not necessarily in that order.
Vykhan shifted his gaze to her. She didn’t know what he saw on her face, but she knew he knew her better than anyone.
“Why is Lohail taunting me, Reign? What did you do?”
