Chapter 17 #2
I rise taller and state, "Brax O'Malley, from this moment forward, I commit my heart, my loyalty, my blood, and my devotion to you.
I stand with you, not only as your wife but as the woman who will protect our union, honor the path we walk, and submit myself to the duties required by the Underworld. "
"And?" Kirill asks.
My chest tightens, but I push the vow out with absolute clarity. "I vow to obey when obedience is commanded, to support when strength is demanded, and to stand by your side through every shadow, every fire, every threat that rises against us."
A wave of whispers cuts through the crowd.
"Quiet!" Kirill shouts.
The arena obeys.
The king turns to Brax and arches his eyebrows.
Brax studies me with a growing intensity, like each word threads itself inside him. The hunger in his gaze sharpens, but behind it lies something more dangerous, almost reverent.
He shifts closer, his voice dropping into a dark, resonant rumble that curls under my skin.
"Valentina Abruzzo, from this moment on, you are mine to protect, mine to defend, and mine to destroy anyone who attempts to harm.
" His eyes narrow around the arena, and he goes off script, adding, "And God help any of you who try.
I will slit you to pieces before you know it's happening. "
Gasps fill the crowd.
My heart warms into something I've never felt before.
"Silence!" Kirill demands.
Brax's eyes turn back on me. He asserts, "I vow to stand between you and any threat, whether it's seen or unseen. I vow to kill for you without hesitation, to guard your body, your honor, and your bloodline. No blade, no enemy, no man will ever reach you while breath remains in me."
The words cleave through the arena, more violent than anything I vowed, yet more intimate than if he'd whispered love into my ear.
He lifts my hand and presses his mouth to my knuckles, not tenderly but with a possessive certainty that sends a deep rush through my chest. He finishes, "I will command beside you. I will conquer beside you. And I will die before I ever allow harm to stain you."
A hushed inhale of breath falls across the arena. The torches crackle, and a cloud moves. The moon shines brighter.
Kirill's voice booms, "The vows have been spoken. The bloodlines bind." He holds out his hands toward us, palms up. "The Underworld bears witness. Your vows hold power, and power must be cleansed."
There's no, you may kiss the bride. I've studied cleansing rituals. I knew it would be like this, but the anticipation climbs through me, tightening, building, lifting the edges of the moment until something trembles inside my every cell.
Kirill's voice slices across the arena, sharp and electric. "Let the cleansing ritual begin!"
The crowd erupts. Torches blaze upward as though fed oxygen from the command. The chanting returns full force, and vibrations surge up the soles of my shoes and spread through my body, expanding until my lungs quiver with the sound.
Brax's head turns as the white lotuses go up in flames, turning to ash.
Two women step in front of me.
"Get away from her," he snarls, pushing me behind him.
"It's okay. They aren't going to hurt me," I assure him.
He keeps his scowl on them.
I tug on his arm.
He glances at me.
"It's okay," I repeat and offer a smile.
He slowly releases me.
One woman unzips my dress. The other pushes it off me. It falls at my feet in a huge ball of chiffon. They hold their hands out.
My heart pounds harder. I take their hands, step out of my dress, and shoes. The floor parts and a mirror rises in front of me, displaying my branded, naked body.
The gong bangs three times.
"Strip," Kirill orders Brax.
I watch in the mirror as he removes all his clothes.
"Take your bride," Kirill orders.
Brax obeys, stepping next to me, his expression locked on mine and full of questions.
My pulse explodes between my ears.
"Offrila. Reclamala," the crowd chants, pounding torches into the ground.
Offer her.
Claim her.
Brax's jaw clenches. He studies me in the mirror, his unblinking focus turning my skin hotter.
For a moment, I think he isn't going to figure it out. I worry he's not going to make a move, and we'll both be killed.
It wouldn't be his fault. He's never been told what his role in this ritual is or how he passes the test. As sweet as he is to me, he didn't marry me for love, and that's what the entire Underworld wants to see.
I shouldn't have put him in this situation.
Now they're going to kill us both.
The more he stares at my reflection, the closer I get to a full breakdown. I bite on my lip, blinking hard. I'm close to tears when he spins me, pushes me against the glass, then tilts my head. He leans over me, his breath hitting mine.
I inhale sharply.
He states through the chants, "You're mine, Minx."
I barely catch my breath when his lips hit mine, pulling me into a world where the Omni don't exist, seats aren't important, and he's the only person in my existence.
His hands grip my ass, pick me up, and pin me to the mirror. The cool glass hits my spine, and a shudder runs through me. He rubs his cock against my clit, taunting me, murmuring, "Mine," as his mouth roams my jaw, my neck, my collarbone.
Fire burns hotter around us as more lotuses fall from the ceiling onto the ring. Chants turn to, "Domina la sua carne. Sottometti la sua anima."
Dominate her body.
Subdue her soul.
Brax's lips find mine. His tongue swipes around my mouth in a fury. He slides faster over me until adrenaline spikes out of control and I'm clutching him, crying out, "Oh Dio!"
"Mine, Minx," he says with more authority, and as I come down, he thrusts deep inside me.
"Dio, aiutami," flies out of my mouth, and I arch my back into him.
His deep grunt rumbles against my chest. He presses his damp forehead to mine. "God's not helping you. Only me." He moves his hand and presses a finger into my ass.
I gasp in his mouth.
His mouth consumes me. He presses inside me until I can't tell if it's his finger or his cock working my insides.
"B-Brax," I stutter, closing my eyes and digging my nails into his shoulders.
"Say it," he orders, working my body like he knows just what it wants, then slowing down.
Another round of adrenaline spikes. It sits on the edge waiting to spill over.
"Say it," he repeats.
I open my eyes, unsure what he wants.
His eyes darken in a way that has nothing to do with anger.
The brown I usually see collapses into something deeper, almost black, as if every unspoken emotion he carries gathers behind his pupils at once.
They're heavy with possession, hunger, and a razor edge of vulnerability he'll never admit to.
It strips me bare, telling me my words have the power to steady him or shatter him, and he hates that almost as much as he needs it. The question fades, and the answer he wants rolls out of my mouth, "Ti amo."
I just told him I loved him.
Before I can process it, he murmurs in my ear, "Mine," and thrusts hard, skillfully moving another finger inside me.
The next few minutes, I can barely breathe. Every time his cock goes in, his fingers come out. The entire time, his mouth consumes me like I'm his obsession.
The torches keep thudding, the women start moaning, and the men grunt.
It's all too much. I can barely hang onto Brax while convulsing between him and the mirror.
"Mine, Minx," he grits out.
"Yours," I agree, my eyes rolling and the fire turning to a blurry haze of orange and blue.
"Mine!" he growls one more time before his body erupts in a tidal wave so catastrophic that he presses me closer to the glass, and an incoherent sound flies out of his mouth.
For several moments, neither of us moves.
The arena spins in a molten blur around us, a vortex of firelight, sweat, and the metallic tang of power hanging in the air.
The torches slowly crackle back to life, illuminating the circle of ash and flames, and I realize there's only our breath and silence.
Brax slowly lowers me to my feet, his hands remaining at my waist as though his body hasn't accepted the idea of letting mine go.
A sharp tremor runs through my legs, but his grip tightens before I can falter.
When I manage to meet his eyes, the darkness inside them hasn't lifted.
If anything, it's deepened into something fiercer, more territorial, more certain.
The ritual didn't cleanse us. If anything, it ignited something neither of us can extinguish.
He brushes a strand of hair from my cheek with knuckles still trembling, and the gesture lodges itself in the center of my chest.
The king steps forward, arms in the air, voice cracking through the arena like thunder. "The bond is witnessed. The Omni approves. The cleansing is complete."
The crowd answers with a roar that shakes the stone beneath my feet, but all I hear is Brax's uneven breath against my ear.
He leans in and warns, "It's done, Minx. You're mine, and the entire Underworld knows it." He threads his fingers through mine and turns toward the exit, pulling me with him through the smoke, the ash, and the consequences of our vows.