His Beloved or His Mate

Chapter 1

    Gabriella woke to a cooing chickadee and a light summer breeze tickling her skin.

    Straightening her arms fully above her head in a full stretch, she groaned at the stiffness that had settled throughout her whole body. 

    And the panging irritation at the crook of her neck.

    Heavy lids blinked and she slowly sat up. Gently, she touched the ache and then pulled back with a whimper. Did she cut herself? It felt like a cut. 

    Spinning herself to the edge of the bed, her feet fought the floor for her slippers, but they were not there. Looking down, she noted they were indeed missing.

    With furrowed brow, Gabriella slowly looked up from her bare feet, across the plush cream colored rugs and mahogany floors, to the white linen curtains billowing through a set of opened glass doors. 

    What?

    Gingerly, she left the bed, her eyes sweeping over the enormous, unfamiliar room. It was extravagantly decorated from its faux fireplace encroached with two plush seats and a small table. When she moved to hug herself, Gabriella flinched again, realizing she was not in her normal cotton tank top and shorts pajamas. Instead, a blush silken slip bared her shoulders, dipped low at her chest, and fell down to her just below her knees. Gasping, she covered herself with her arms, looking around for a robe. 

    She spotted one of the same material lying on an ivory cushioned bench at the foot of her bed. Grabbing it, she hastily put it on. 

    Where are my clothes?

    Ambling to the glass doors, she cautiously opened them a little more. Outside, a balcony jetted out about fifteen feet adorned with huge potted plants, outdoor furniture, and a fire pit filled with glass rocks radiating with a heady blue glow. The balcony was hedged within ornate stone and iron palisades. Stepping outside, she noticed the balcony skirted along the second story of the building and adjoined to another pair of double glass doors on her right.

    Where am I?

    Sidling to the ledge, she looked over the side. The yard stretched for miles in lush green grass flanked by sentinel evergreen trees and manicured flowering bushes perfuming the air. Over the tips of the trees, a multi-colored haze of cloud and water brushed the horizon. Light lingered in the sky, but the sun had gone down and soon a sunset would blush the sky.

    The air swirled with a hint of salt water.

    Ocean. Pacific Ocean. 

    Ceremony.  The ceremony was soon. I am.. becoming... what is it? Married? Is that the word? What ceremony am I supposed to remember!

    The words seemed to rise and ebb from her memory until it fizzled into nothingness.

    “Good, you’re awake. You’ve nearly slept the day away.” 

    Gabriella jumped, her hands positioning immediately in a defensive fighting stance as she spun around.

    A woman walked through the balcony door towards her, heels clicking gently on the tiled landing.  Gabriella marveled at her golden-hued espresso skin and silky sable mane that swished behind her back as she approached.  She was tall, yet not lanky, with curves that moved with her body, owning its voluptuousness in her cat-walk.  Gabriella continued to stare, mesmerized at how the woman’s form-fitting yellow dress perfectly matched a fierce set of saffron irises. Although she looked not a day older than Gabriella’s 18 years, something in the way she held herself, her serene, confident expression, resonated a maturity beyond her physical appearance.

    “You do not need to fear me,” she purred as she spoke, looking at Gabriella’s readied fists.

    Flushing red, she lowered her hands, but the fists remained. “I’ll determine that.”

    “As you wish,” The exotic woman smirked. “I was sent to check on you. My name is Ravana.” Her name seemed to reverberate in Gabriella’s head like a departing crescendo. 

    Gabriella’s expression darkened. “Sent? Who sent you?” she pressed. Just as the question fell from her lips, goosebumps flushed her skin proceeding a pervading whisper. 

    Raith.

    The dream. Swirling ball gowns. Beautiful man. Heated kiss.

    A voice hissed, Not a dream.

     As if Ravana could read her thoughts, she nodded on cue. “Yes. I am the king’s personal assistant and therefore your assistant as well.” A perfectly plucked ebony eyebrow rose.

    “King?”

    “Yes, my mistress. My lord, King Raith.” Ravana smiled, a stark white behind ocherous, plump lips. Bowing slightly to Gabriella, she said, “My Queen.” Her voice sugary, soft. 

    “Queen?” She pointed to herself. “Me?”

    “Yes, of course.” Ravana tilted her head and watchful eyes to Gabriella’s shoulder. She followed the assistant’s weighted gaze toward the tender area at her neck. Reaching, she touched the tender flesh and cringed again, but struggled to see the cause of the pain. Ravana followed as Gabriella rushed back into the room and strode to a baroque black iron-framed mirror near the bed. 

    Her breath hitched when she first noticed the eyes looking back at her. Piercing, green, emerald.

    Verde? Not my eyes!  Mine should be… light brown?

    Gabriella touched her face, making sure the girl in the mirror mimicked her actions. When the image was a perfect mime, anxiety flushed her cheeks. Shifting her attention, her eyes flicked to the various puncture marks and red, raised skin on her shoulder.  Underneath the mark was an inky black and purple mark that spider-webbed out in seven short streaks.  “This makes me a queen?” 

    Do you understand what forever means? whispered into her ear. 

She turned, looking for the speaker. 

    Looking for him. 

    No one was there except for Ravana who leaned against the door, arms folded, her lovely face softened with a smirk.

    Thoughts swirled in her mind but then began molding together in solid understanding.  “And… Raith is King of… vampires.” Gabriella rasped, not knowing how she knew it. 

    But she had always known it. 

    “Yes, mistress. King of the vampires. Well, king in this region.” Ravana nodded.

    Gabriella scrutinized the assistant, looking for any subtle sign. “Are you…?” She couldn’t finish. 

    “Yes,” Ravana slightly bowed with the tilt of her head. “I am.”

    “Am… am I?” she choked, her hand grazing the bite.

    “No. Not yet.” she shook her head. “I am sure King Raith will enlighten you more about that.”

    Gabriella swallowed hard before letting out a distressed breath. “Uh… Twilight Zone, much? Dios mio!” She grabbed handfuls of hair as she digested the conversation. Strange dream. Strange house. Strange everything!. “This isn’t right. Nothing feels right, here.”

    Not a dream… Gabriella turned in circles, hoping to catch… him.

    Ravana said, “I assure you. All is as it should be.” She offered a slight bow again, “My Mistress, please let me help you dress. He awaits you.”

    “Uh...” Not knowing where else to go, she paced in a small area. Seeing him again sent a swirl of butterflies in her stomach. She wrung her hands. “Ok. Where is he? Raith. King Raith. ¡Ay!”

    Ravana chuckled. “He is down by the shore.”

    “Wait. He’s outside?  Don’t vampires sleep all day and get all Kentucky Fried Chicken in the sun?”

    "Direct sun, yes. And he sleeps for most of the day, yes.” Ravana shook her head. “This is very weird explaining all this to you considering who you are.” She sighed, “Alas, the sun is down, so King Raith is fine. He likes to be outside as soon as it's sunset and doesn’t rest until just before dawn. He’s a very busy man.” Ravana waited for another question, but then continued when Gabriella didn’t ask one. “ Perhaps I can help you pick out an outfit for the occasion?” 

    She murdered another tuft of hair. “And exactly what occasion is that?”

    Ravana walked to a set of double doors within the room which led into a foyer that branched off right into a huge bathroom, and left into a massive walk-in closet. “His majesty simply wants to spend time with you, of course.”

    "Majesty? This is just way crazy… ¡vaya vaya!” Gabriella gasped behind Ravana. Rows, shelves, drawers, hangers dripping in clothes. Each side of the closet was designated male and female, and roosted in the middle was a huge dresser that opened on both sides with plush pillowed benches flanking it.

    “It is so good to have you back, my Queen. It is not only King Raith who has missed you,” Ravana chuckled again as she thumbed through some clothes.

          ‘’’Missed me? Have I been lost?” Her eyes squinted as she tried to make sense of Ravana’s remark. Frustration stewed when she couldn't remember much beyond waking up just now and… the dream. Why couldn’t she recall anything more beyond today?

          Ravana’s smile melted a little as she pulled a flowy, floral summer dress from a hanger and then, seemingly ignoring Gabriella’s statement, walked over to the shoe shelves and selected a pair of sandals.  “Here, these are all sized to fit.” She laid the ensemble across the bench. Her saffron eyes flashed at second, her head slightly tilting as she looked over her. “Lost, yes. In a manner of speaking.”

          “Where have I been?” Gabriella pressed. 

    “These are questions better for the King.” Ravana touched Gabriella’s arm; her fingers were gentle ice. “I’ll wait for you outside to give you privacy.”  She strode to the doors. 

    “Wait!” Gabriella clutched the dress, her face scowled. “How do you know my size?”

    Ravana beamed. “Welcome home, my Queen.” Then turned and left.  

          After dressing, Gabriella sheepishly left the bedroom and noted Ravana waiting at the head of an elaborate staircase. Feet sinking into the plush cream carpet as she made her way toward the assistant, she grimaced about having put her shoes on. The upstairs looked more like a rotunda foyer rather than a landing. Three immense windows had an odd bluish black colorant over its glass, muting any light that tried to come in; the windows flanked by a blue chaise and end table embellished with a vase brimming in summer flowers. Along the circular hall as she walked, she noticed another bedroom door.  A railing lipped around the center of the foyer and presented another set of doors on the other side. 

    Ravana pointed with her chin to the doors across the way. “My room is straight across from yours if you need me. I share my room with Prince Ambrose.”

    “Prince?”

    “Yes, he’s our clan’s Bellator. You can address him as Bellator Ambrose.” She saw Gabriella struggling with the information again, so she continued. “Our clan Bellator makes sure everyone is safe.” 

    “Ok.” Gabriella nodded, though it did little to wash the confusion out of her eyes. “So, you and Bellator Ambrose are…” her voice trailed off.

    Ravana smirked. “Yes. He is my Beloved.”

          Gabriella blushed, looking away from the assistant. Clearing her throat, she asked, “Are all these rooms taken then up here?”

          “Yes.” She said simply. “Those most trusted by our King. The one next yours is Consigliere Lord Athan’s room and his Beloved, Lady Salome.” Ravana eyed Gabriella, as if waiting for something.

Feeling under a microscope, Gabriella cleared her throat, asking, “Consigliere?”

“King Raith’s… right-hand man, per say.” Ravana simplified.

“Bodyguard?”

Pursing her lips. “At times, but Myung and Bellator Ambrose take care of that, as well as, King Raith can hold his own. Consigliere Lord Athan is mostly his adviser. In business and in other decisions. They work close and have been together for decades. It’s safe to say, they are brothers.”

Biting her bottom lip, she shifted the topic. “So, this Beloved thing… Lady Salome is his girlfriend?” 

Ravana’s brows pinched. “No. Beloved is the same as wife or husband. Their forever companion.”

Gabriella’s face flushed red. “Oh. Yes. Duh.” She pointed to the room next to Ravana’s. “And that one?”

“Myung’s room. He’s the king’s thrall… better said as King Raith’s Day Watcher….” Ravana saw Gabriella’s puzzled expression. “And what’s a Day Watcher, ok…I am sure you understand the lifestyle of a vampire, Mistress?”

“Well… kinda. I’ve seen movies?”  Movies? That didn’t seem right. She knew about vampires, knew everything. It was just… really foggy right now. “No, actually I think I know more.”

Ravana pursed her lips. “It will return. Be patient.”

“So, where does… King Raith… sleep?”

The assistant winked, “With his queen, of course?” leaving Gabriella flushing red again.

Peeking through the banister rails, Gabriella noted the vast mahogany wood staircase that fled down and grew horizontally before it hit the main floor. Descending with Ravana, her mouth gaped at the aesthetics of the place.  It was a mix of modern and old world, but not a hodge-podge mess. It was breath-taking, exquisite, and… it felt like home.

          “Fit for a king, right?” She hadn’t realized she had spoken her thoughts until Ravana’s perfect eyebrow rose with a grin.

          “King Raith only likes the best. Pieces of his homeland, yours, and some American flare as well.” Her arms flared as she acknowledged it all.

          “My homeland?” 

          “Spain, of course. But all of this will be remembered. Please do not stress your mind too much. I am sure it’s a lot of take in.” 

          “A bit, ya,” she squeaked. Gabriella pursed her lips, trying to find a memory that connected her with a country across the Atlantic. She knew she was Latina, but also a Spaniard? 

Californian. The name stroked across her mind. “Sacramento...” She struggled.

No! You’re from Cantabria!

Ravana’s yellow eyes flashed brighter for a second. She didn’t acknowledge Gabriella’s comment. “Let’s get you to King Raith.”