Chapter 48
Chapter
Forty-Eight
ALLIE
T he flames danced higher as the wind hissed around us, casting grim marks on the rock. The warriors’ shadows rose in the flickering light; their daggers became claws, their mouths fanged as they chanted toward the stars.
But it was only an illusion.
When I lowered my gaze from the rock to the actual circle, everyone stood around and swayed to the unfamiliar prayers. It sounded like the chant which had filled the crypt, as if they were calling to their ancestors to protect them.
Vylkor kept the tune, eyes closed. Who knew he had such a lovely voice hidden behind that fearsome grimace.
It struck me just how similar this gathering was to the troll one I’d crashed. Less roaring, thankfully, but goosebumps erupted down my arms all the same.
I held on tighter to my lit candle.
Ryker was right–I would lead these people.
I didn’t know when, but the inevitability of that future couldn’t be ignored.
Truth be told–and I barely dared think it, let alone speak it–I was starting to look forward to it.
A life next to Ryker didn’t seem like such a hardship as it had seemed before.
He stepped inside the circle, on the side opposite mine, like a man born to command. I was struck once more, like I had on that first night, by the sheer presence of him.
Everyone looked at him with such reverence.
It was more than respect.
Admiration, pure and earned .
The song stopped as Ryker lit his own candle in the fire, the flames’ reflection competing with the sparks in his eyes.
Even if Solkar himself descended from the heavens now, I wouldn’t have been able to look away.
“We will call upon the ancient magic of this realm and our ancestors to protect us once more,” Ryker said, everyone clinging to each word. He’d deepened his voice; more guttural, more serious.
No sign of the man who joked with me about bratty Vegheara heirs.
That version let his guard down.
This one commanded and led through example.
If he stood tall, unflinching, even in the face of danger, the rest had to follow suit.
“The path the leader walks becomes a road for all to follow, Allie,” Grandpa Constantine used to say. “Pay attention to your steps. Always.”
Ryker had the same presence. The quiet courage of a true leader, who could demand attention just by existing.
“Tonight, even gods we do not name will smile upon us.” Ryker tilted his head at me. “One of the Protectorate’s best warriors and magic-wielders has agreed to join her blood to ours.”
The gazes swirled toward me, skittering up my back and settling at the base of my neck. But they weren’t as heavy as before. Not weary or guarded.
Curious.
Expectant.
Ready for me to show my worth.
I felt the responsibility.
I tilted my chin against its weight, welcoming it–even as my chest clenched at the steps of the ritual.
Why did it always have to be blood?
“This realm, which has given us food and shelter, listened to our howls of triumph and our cries of despair, has never once betrayed us. And we will not betray it.” He raised a dagger in the air, just like his warriors. “Death and ruin will not touch us as long as our hearts are pure.”
The wind picked up, playing with the flames and drawing them toward the sky, as if it too wanted to take part in the ritual. Perhaps the crater felt and saw more than we thought.
“We call upon Solkar and his blessings, to shine upon us even at night. Our enemies will not prevail, their blood wetting our land, not tainting it.” Ryker’s voice rose, drumming through the circle.
“We will not cower, we will not bend. We will protect this land as it protects us. This we swear and oath until the grave.”
The warriors banged their dagger pommels against their chests, grunting in the night.
“No fury without foe. No triumph without struggle. No reward without sacrifice.” The firelight carved the angles of his face sharper. Unforgiving. “For the good of this land and the Blood Brotherhood.”
Ryker’s dagger hissed through the night, coming down upon his own flesh. He’d told me this would happen, and, yet, I quaked inside at seeing the blade’s tip carve a trench on the back of his hand in a perfect circle.
Everyone followed suit, the air turning metallic. Geryll, to my right, hissed as he cut his own flesh, while Nadya, to my left, did it with a determined grimace.
Finally, it was my turn.
This ritual felt foreign and ancient, too primal for my Protectorate proclivities.
But if I wanted them to embrace me, I had to sacrifice as much as they did.
Pay attention to your steps .
The dagger’s tip slashed at my skin. I locked my jaw, matching Ryker’s impenetrable mask, even as pain shot up my arm. The candle’s light flickered with my unpracticed movements, but I did it.
A perfect circle to match the rest, my blood trickling down my arm, dripping onto the snow and smearing onto my fur sleeve.
It was the way in Solkar’s Reach.
“Warriors.” Ryker called out. “Let Solkar himself see and hear you on this night.”
On cue, we all pressed their bloody hands onto their foreheads, leaving behind grisly blood marks. It clung thick to my skin, seeping into the lines, searing the vow. A fierce fervor spread through my veins, like my soul wanted to rise out of me and join the others in a wild dance.
This was no orderly Protectorate ceremony, where I could even recite each priest’s intonation by heart.
Feral and raw, the ritual scratched at some primal part of me, that wanted to forget all about the laws of propriety and burst out, like some wild beast.
Some buried, raw part of me roared in answer.
I belonged in this madness.
The warriors threw their heads back and howled to the stars. In the distance, the wolves joined in, the entire valley alive.
Ryker’s gaze slashed toward me through the flames as he spread his arms wide.
I knew what he was doing. What he was waiting for.
I tilted my chin in agreement.
Yes, I wanted his power to wash over me.
Touch me.
Fill me.
He closed his eyes and flicked his fingers.
The howls grew louder as they relaxed in a wave emanating from Ryker’s position. The circle marks on the back of their hands restitched as if they'd never been carved into flesh.
I held my breath as Geryll and Nadya’s bodies relaxed next to me, as if someone had wiped away all the day’s aches.
At first, it felt like a simple tingle. A whisper in a sea of sensations, gentle and slow.
Then it turned in a caress, more insistent. I relaxed into it, as if Ryker himself touched me.
My eyelids fluttered his way as my body swayed under his power. My own wound vanished in a gust of air, skin binding back, unscathed.
Heat rose in my back, blazing the pain away with ease.
But my body wanted more.
My lips parted as a carnal desire flowed through me. Demanding. Insatiable.
This was true madness.
All it took was a brush of his essence against mine and I wanted him. Even surrounded by all these people, even in the middle of a ritual.
It was lunacy.
My body felt molten. Even as his magical touch didn’t stray from the surface.
My powers tugged on his, ravenous for more.
Not now .
My eyes flew open, attaching to his beyond the fire. There was a warning in his gaze, even as I could feel his own desire as plainly as if it were mine.
But he held back. After all, he led the ceremony, I was merely a willing participant.
And I wanted to dive in even more.
The well of power inside of me stirred, eager to join.
But I feared it was too much, too soon. The warriors had never seen my Protectorate magic. Might not welcome it in their sacred ritual.
Do it .
I swear it sounded like Ryker had whispered in my mind. But that was impossible. He stood on the other end of the fire, watching me with a triumphant grin.
Waiting.
Encouraging.
In the middle of these otherworldly howls, which seemed to call out to the gods themselves, my blue tendrils snaked around my arms, blazing my skin as they coiled. But this time, they didn’t take energy from me.
They fed off the surrounding frenzy, impatient to enter the fray.
I raised my hands to let them swish around the fire, drawing everyone’s attention. Gasps erupted through the howls.
“The Protectorate princess offers her own blessings,” Ryker declared, gaze not leaving mine.
Just when I began to doubt this display, cheers followed. The tendrils rose high into the sky,, as if reaching for the stars, before plunging into the fire, coating the flames in a blue hue and making them swell.
The warriors raised their weapons high in the air, shouting in reverie. I felt more at home in Solkar’s Reach than I ever did, even back in the crypt.
I was no longer something to be gawked at, only tolerated because of the Commander’s goodwill.
Now I had joined them.
Now I truly belonged.
Tonight, we called upon their gods for protection.
Tomorrow, we would delve into the bowels of the crater–and hope we’d come back out whole.