Chapter 5
AUREN
Vivienne’s hands tremble in mine. If she wasn’t shooting seething glances at her father and brother, I might think it was nerves. But no—this is pure, unfiltered rage.
And gods, she is glorious in her fury.
The priest drones on, his deep voice echoing off the marble walls of the great hall as we recite the human vows of binding. When it’s time for rings, she presents me with a simple metal band made of silver.
She hesitates a moment before sliding it over my finger.
When it’s my turn, I present her with my mother’s ring. Three thin bands, twisted together with a round moonstone in the center—simple, but elegant. It has been in my family for generations, and I’m proud to give this to my bride.
After the exchange of rings, we move on to the binding.
Although we had a human ceremony, I insisted that my customs be honored as well.
The green silk ribbon winds around our joined hands—her right, my left—tied in the ceremonial knot of my people, sealing the union not just by law, but before the gods.
Her pulse flutters against my fingers, fast and uneven. I tighten my grip before I can stop myself, steadying her… or perhaps myself.
Vivienne barely spares the ribbon a glance. She doesn’t understand what this means. But I do.
Dark elves do not take this binding lightly. In my homeland, this knot is more than tradition. It’s a claim, a promise… a tether to something far greater than law or duty.
Vivienne thinks she’s enduring a punishment. She does not yet realize she is becoming mine. Not by force, but by a sacred binding as ancient as the stars.
She is mine to care for. Mine to protect. Mine to cherish. The primal instinct surges within, deep and immovable—as natural as breath, and unyielding as stone.
My second-in-command, Captain Dain, stands at my side as my witness, his face a perfect mask of neutrality, though I know better. He finds it rather amusing that such a fiery human has captured my heart.
At Vivienne’s side, Crown Prince Aldric, her older brother, watches me with quiet calculation. He knows who I truly am and has welcomed me into the family without hesitation.
Vivienne, on the other hand, looks ready to throttle him.
A lesser man would wilt beneath the glare she levels at her brother, but I suspect he and her father have spent years enduring her wrath.
“You may now kiss your bride,” the priest announces.
I turn toward her, lifting our bound hands, preparing to claim what is now mine, but at the last second, she turns her head sharply, and my lips land on her cheek in a chaste kiss instead. Her skin is warm, soft, and flushed with outrage.
She whirls away from me so fast the ribbon pulls taut, yanking my hand forward. “This is ridiculous,” she huffs. “You’ve made your point. I’ve learned my lesson. You can stop this absurd charade now.”
Her father exhales a long-suffering sigh. “It’s not a charade, Vivienne. You are wed. Before the gods, before the law. This binding is final.”
She pales, her lips parting in shock, and then her wide, pleading gaze sweeps to Aldric.
Her brother smiles and clasps my shoulder. “Welcome to the family, Auren.”
A laugh catches in my throat as Vivienne gapes at him, betrayal written across her lovely features.
“Aldric,” she hisses. “How could you?”
“Quite easily, actually,” he muses. “I rather like my new brother-in-law.”
Aldric is a good man. He’s the one who met me a year ago to broker peace between our people when a land dispute broke out in one of the border villages.
Vivienne clutches our bound hands tighter, her blunt nails digging into my skin. If looks could kill, Aldric would be little more than a pile of ash at our feet.
Her father motions to one of the servants. “Take the bride and groom to their wedding chambers.”
Vivienne goes still. Then, as realization dawns, her head jerks toward me, eyes blazing with fury. “Untie it,” she orders.
I tilt my head, feigning innocence. “I cannot.”
Her nostrils flare. “And why not?”
“Because, my lovely wife”—I give her what I hope is my best smile—“the bond is sacred.”
She blinks, caught off guard for a half-second before scoffing. “Oh, please. It’s just a ribbon.”
“No, Princess.” I exhale, shaking my head. “To you, it’s a ribbon. To me, it is fate.”
If she was a Dark Elf, she’d recognize the bond as I do. But because she is not, I must show her through my words and actions that I cherish her.
Our newlywed chambers are warm and inviting. A roaring fire burns in the hearth, and the air is thick with the scent of lavender and cedar. A sprawling four-poster bed sits in the center, draped in gold linens, clearly prepared for this occasion.
Vivienne’s panic is nearly palpable as we stand in the doorway.
I turn back to my guards and Dain steps forward.
He is not just my second-in-command, he is my friend.
He dips his chin. “We’ll be just outside if you need us, your Ma—” He stops short, remembering at the last minute that he is not to refer to me as his king.
Not until I’ve informed my new bride of who I really am.
He clears his throat. “Auren,” he says, correcting himself.
I smile at him. “Thank you, my friend.”
Dain claps a fist to his chest in salute, but before he leaves, I turn back to Vivienne.
“My lovely wife,” I say smoothly, “allow me to introduce you. This is Dain, my brother-in-arms.”
She narrows her eyes at me, before she gives Dain a curt nod and then drags me into the room, slamming the door shut behind us. I barely have time to turn before she’s whirling on me, her fury blazing hotter than the hearth.
“I am not your wife,” she seethes.
Arching a brow, I lift our still-bound hands. “I believe we took vows before the gods.”
She lets out a frustrated groan.
I try my best to keep my amusement in check, but she catches the slight twitch of my lips.
“I’ll bet you’re very pleased with yourself right now, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” I reply, not bothering to hide my grin this time. “I never expected to have such a beautiful and spirited wife. The gods have truly blessed me.”
She stares at me as if I’ve grown two heads, before she gives me a suspicious look. “I cannot tell if you’re being sarcastic or not.”
“I would never joke about this.” I meet her gaze evenly. “I truly feel blessed to be bound to you, Vivienne.”
Her cheeks flush, and I bite back a smile. It seems I’ve rendered her speechless once again.
I glance at the clock on the mantle. It’s getting late, and we have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow. With my free hand, I begin to unbuckle my chest plate and then set it aside.
Her eyes widen. “What are you doing?”
“Removing my armor.”
Her breath catches. “Why?”
“To go to sleep.”
“To… sleep,” she repeats. “Are you saying you don’t expect to”—her cheeks flush—“consummate our vows?”
I want her. Need burns through me like fire. Gods, I’ve never wanted anything more. But I will not take what is not freely given. Even if it kills me to wait.
“I would never take anything from you that you do not willingly give,” I assure her. “But if you’d like, I’m more than happy to—”
“Absolutely not,” she hisses, dragging me toward the bed.
For one wild moment, I think she’s changed her mind, but then she tosses several pillows onto the floor.
“You can sleep there,” she declares.
I sigh, lifting our joined hands, reminding her we are physically bound.
When she moves to undo the ribbon, I catch her wrist. “Please, Vivienne. It cannot be removed until morning. Otherwise, we’ll be cursed by the gods.”
I feel a small pang of guilt for the lie, but it’s not entirely untrue. There is a belief that breaking the binding before morning brings bad luck for the first year of marriage, and judging by the suspicious look she’s giving me, I’m going to need as much good fortune as possible.
“Fine,” she grumbles. “But you’re still sleeping on the floor. I’ll simply hang my arm off the bed.”
“As you wish, my dear wife.”
I begin unfastening the remaining armor, but I struggle with the back clasps. Each piece is connected by straps designed for quick removal, but I’ve never undressed with my wrist bound to another’s, and it’s not quite as simple as I’d imagined. I sigh. “I need assistance.”
She purses her lips. “You really think I’m going to help you undress?”
I smirk. “Unless you want me to sleep in full armor, yes.”
She mutters something under her breath but steps forward, working the clasps loose.
The moment the armor drops away, I roll my shoulders, enjoying the release of tension.
“Your turn,” I murmur.
She stills. “Excuse me?”
“You won’t be comfortable sleeping in your wedding gown.”
She glares but turns her back, motioning for me to untie the laces.
My heart stutters as the gown loosens, exposing the bare flesh across her back and shoulders, and the faint constellation of freckles scattered across her petal-soft skin.
I’ve noticed them before, dusting her cheeks, arching over the bridge of her nose, but I hadn’t known they covered her elsewhere too. For a moment, I pull back my hands, fighting the urge to trace them with the tips of my fingers, to count them slowly, as if they were stars meant only for me.
She shivers slightly as my fingers brush the fabric.
Once the bodice is removed, she glances back at me. “We’ll need to find something to cut away the sleeve because of our bound hands.”
“I have just the thing,” I murmur. Her eyes widen and a lovely, pink blush spreads across her cheeks as I extend my claws and slice away the fabric, careful of her delicate skin.
My breath falters as it falls away, revealing even more of her to me as the gown pools at her feet, leaving her in only her silken shift. My gaze travels over her before I can help myself. I’m completely mesmerized by my beautiful bride.
“Don’t get any ideas,” she warns, breaking the spell.
I huff a quiet laugh. “Perish the thought.”
She climbs onto the bed, and I settle onto the floor beside her.
When she glances down at me, I smile up at her. “Can I have another blanket, my lovely wife?”
She sighs heavily and tosses a pillow down instead, smacking me in the face.
“So generous,” I tease.
She huffs. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, me'lira,” I murmur the term of endearment without thinking.
Her head lifts from the bed, eyes narrowing. “What did you just call me?”
“It’s a Dark Elf term. It means beloved—my heart.”
She flushes again, her lips parting before she quickly flops back onto the bed. “Don’t call me that,” she mutters.
“Why not?” I reply. “It’s true.”
She exhales sharply but says nothing.
I lie back, listening to the sound of her breathing becoming soft and even as she drifts off to sleep.
I glance up at her and smile to myself. We’ve pledged ourselves to each other before the gods. I am hers… and she is mine. I’m the luckiest male alive.