Chapter Four
God, she just wanted a moment alone to throw up her insides. If she thought she could drown her sorrows, she had been misled into thinking it was possible.
“Ah, dear silly child. What have you done?” Melle admonished. “If the elders and your parents know you’re hungover for this special once-in-a-lifetime event, they will—”
“I don’t care, Melle,” Alexandria said, confidence blazing her tone. “And there’s no guarantee they would give in to me. What’s going to happen if they don’t? Will they be beaten until they submit to me?” Just the thought of it was too cruel to entertain. And why hadn’t she thought about this before?
“They will give Swan House what is ours for the taking. They know their place, and they know there is a time limit. When the hand of time is a quarter ’er noon, so cygnets will come to be, on fire and flight, to appease the gods and reap their treasures.”
“But—” Just because Melle could recite some Swan House poetry didn’t mean the men in the dungeon below would do as they were told.
“There’s no but, child.”
“I hate this, Melle.”
“I know, child.” There was that same look in Melle’s old eyes that Alexandria had seen before. She knew she couldn’t have asked Melle for help. Given that she had sacrificed her life for Swan House, the former first priestess would have destroyed herself if forced to choose between Alexandria and Swan House.
Alexandria knew that intuitively, and she never wanted to put Melle in such a position. The woman had acted more as their nanny than the First Priestess, since she lived in the house with them, in a room in the east wing of the Swan family mansion––just one of its seventeen bedrooms and ballroom-sized dining room.
“But I am here for you,” the older woman said softly, her gaze delving deep into Alexandria’s, “if things go wrong.”
She wasn’t talking about the ritual.
“There,” Melle added quickly. Two heads shorter than Alexandria, she reached up and retied the bow at her throat, gently tightening the thick velvet cape Alexandria wore. Under the heavy cloth, she might as well have been naked.
The gauzy fabric that served as a gown barely concealed her body—not her nipples or the dark discs around her breasts. Not the vee between her thighs or the smooth, glistening skin of her mound.
She had been lathered up and scrubbed to within an inch of her life, then dipped in a bath of scented oil—lavender and vanilla now clung to her and in the air around her. It had then taken four junior priestesses to massage the oil into her so that all she was left with was soft, glowing skin.
It was almost the middle of the day-the day of the ritual. The only people present would be the priestesses, who would report back in graphic detail to the council and present evidence of her virgin blood mixed with their essences.
Even though her mother would escort her down to the dungeon and then leave, she took comfort in knowing that her parents and the entire council of old, unknown faces weren’t going to witness her losing her virginity to three men who would rather kill her than fuck her.
Oh god.
Why did she still have to be a virgin? Because if she weren’t, her parents would slip Rhea into her place in a heartbeat.
Shallow gasps escaped her mouth. She was truly going to pass out, and it had nothing to do with being hungover.
“It’s time.” Melle nodded and guided her out of her bedroom, where she met her mother and an entourage of priestesses, who then led her down to the dungeon.
Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.
She couldn’t stop trembling. She was utterly certain she was going to throw up until her mother dug her fingers into her arm, thinking she was offering her daughter support.
“You are a Swan House princess, Alexandria, and I cannot believe you dared to get drunk while everything is riding on this ritual. So no, you'll do nothing as crude as pass out. Sometimes, I think you don’t deserve this honor, and I’m glad your father and the elders aren’t here to witness this ungrateful, distasteful behavior.” Her mother sighed in discontent.
“I’m fine,” Alexandria said, standing up straighter and raising her chin.
“Good, because you will not embarrass our family,” she hissed, cruel and harsh. “Our livelihood depends on this.”
“Do your duty,” Melle said from the other side of her. “And then it will all be over,” she added, softening her voice.
They approached the cylindrical chamber once more. Her mother kissed her cheeks before turning around and leaving. Melle squeezed her hand and followed her mother out. The guards fell back, staying in the other vault, their backs now facing the inner chamber where her life would come apart.
The High Priestess—a woman as cold as ice—led her to the altar, and then it was only Alexandria, the assembly of priestesses, and them .
Fear littered her body; she was truly going to collapse. She couldn’t do this. Even with their plans in place, this was the part that frightened her the most.
The urgent need to call her mom back died with the rest of her salvation. Her mother would never save her. She was on her own. Her inner resolve, momentarily broken, returned. This was just one unfortunate and necessary step she had to take to free them from Swan House forever.
Standing on the bed of the altar, the body of a swan above her head, she squared her shoulders and raised her eyes to the men she was going to take against their will. And hers. She would do anything for Rhea and Cara to have a normal, joyful life. She could make that happen.
Her breath stuttered and died in her throat at the sight of them. The guards had taken them out of the cells and placed them on three separate stone pedestals, their wrists chained above their heads and their ankles resting on the stone floor, naked.
They were completely naked.
Her gaze dropped in embarrassment, but the sight of them would remain etched in her mind forever.
They didn’t rattle their chains. They didn’t spew vitriol at her or the priestesses. They make lethal threats and demand to be released. They sat like kings, the heat of their gaze singeing her, drowning her in a pit of liquid fire.
She wasn’t accustomed to men like them. The men she did know were boys her age, and they didn’t have murderous looks in their eyes when they looked at her.
She had to find a way to let them know she wasn’t a willing participant in this ritual. Maybe they would hate her less. But deep down, she knew they'd grant her zero mercy if they ever got their hands on her.
A thought struck her. What influence did her family have on these men to justify their cooperation when the silent fury in their gaze had enough power for them to rip the restraints out of the stone and break every person's neck standing in their way?
They were being blackmailed with something that meant the world to them. Just like Alexandria was.
A bell sounded somewhere. Two priestesses came forward, unfastened the bow on her cape, and removed it from her shoulders.
Cold air stabbed at her nerves. She clenched her fists together to stop from hugging herself and shielding her nakedness, transparent beneath the fabric, as their thick-lashed eyes swept down the length of her body, slowly, deliberately peeling away the tiny semblance of modesty she had tucked away.
She didn't want them to witness her trembling or the way her typically docile nipples pebbled and peaked through the sheer fabric. But nothing could stop her body from betraying her as their dark and dangerous gazes deepened their perusal of her, turning her world upside down and causing an unfamiliar tug in her womb that slid down between her legs. A feeling she couldn’t name or understand but knew she shouldn’t be condoning in any shape or form.
The same two priestesses who had divested her of the cape each took one of her hands in theirs and led her toward them. The scent of soap hit her first, and she knew their baths had been nothing like hers. Melle had told her they’d been hosed down with ice-cold water and soap thrown at them, all while they were still securely restrained.
Her family and the people who carried the same Swan name were a bunch of cowards.
They placed her in front of the first man when the bell struck for the twelfth time.
She never had any chance of escaping this. Protesting now would only make the elders insist that Rhea take her place at once. Her sister had gone through the same cleansing ceremony as Alexandria; a backup her parents had felt the need to have, knowing Alexandria like they did. And Rhea would do as she was told.
The High Priestess’ instructions flitted through her mind.
She stepped closer until her thighs were on either side of his. She lifted the hem of the gown and lowered herself onto him.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her body set ablaze, her mind melting at the sheer ferocious power between her thighs.