Chapter 31
Tewewh twitched the skirt of my white gown, and stood back to stoically say, “You look magnificent, Mate-Intended.”
I smirked.
Yiti grimaced. “You look as you intended.”
Now there was a real compliment. “Thank you.”
Shaving my head had felt symbolic of the step I was taking—one, this intention ritual, and two, my separation from Adeuto. If it helped to cool any of Carmine’s lust, then I’d count that as the biggest victory of all.
He wouldn’t be able to get within four feet of me on either side, and if he did, then the hour taken to get into this dress did reassure me some.
As did the fortress underwear I’d buckled on before dressing.
In saying that, I hadn’t entirely escaped all traditions of what I was about to do.
The gown was white, which reflected both human and magus tradition.
And the veil—even if I’d included it to piss off Carmine and the guests—was part of human and magus tradition too.
If my mate was one I could stand by and love, and if my family were alive and here, then my grandmother would have gifted me a prized gem. My mother would have made my gown and walked me down the aisle. And Tempest would have been the one and only member in my bridal sisterhood.
None of them were here, and so it felt right to treat this ritual and ceremony as the joke it was. Even if the gown had remained white.
Knock, knock.
A yellow poked her head in—males weren’t allowed near me until after the ritual. I knew that because I’d dreamed so vividly and in such detail of this day since sixteen after reading everything I could on the topic.
“Mate-Intended, the guests are seated.”
I sighed happily. “I’m ready.”
As ready as I can be.
The yellow subtly inspected me from head to toe before withdrawing.
I set off down the hall in a swish and puff, then drew up short. “Where is this thing?”
Glancing back for the answer from the yellow, I had the absolute delight of glimpsing her true feelings about my outfit.
She erased the disgust from her expression and blurted, “Front stairs, Mate-Intended. So the realm might see from below.”
Ah, Pride Rock. Or so I called the jutting peninsula of stone.
I pivoted to swish and puff in the other direction. All the way to the entrance of the fortress. Gratia was waiting there. When she saw me, her face screwed up.
“What is that on your body?” She sucked in a horrified breath. “Will you set it on fire to reveal your actual gown?”
I pouted. “You don’t like it?”
She stared from my head to my toes. “Is it normal for humans?”
“Sure.”
“Did you shave your hair?”
I brushed a finger through my hairline. Anyone who hadn’t shaved their hair had never experienced this fuzzy delight. “A human thing.”
Gratia muttered under her breath. “I don’t see why you’d start acting normal now. “
“Thank you, sister.”
We grimaced at the same time and then shared a grin.
While this ritual was only the fourth of seven, it was significant in the joining of the mating couples’ families.
After this ceremony, Carmine and I would be husband and wife.
From now on, Gratia would officially become my sister-in-law—in the eyes of the realm.
Athira would be my nurturing and kind mother.
I would be an official part of the royal family.
Though not officially crowned until the completion of our mating ritual, I would step into queenly duties after this ceremony.
So much to look forward to.
I peered out to Pride Rock. “Are we ready to rock and roll?”
Gratia shook her head. “To start? Yes. Would you like me to walk with you?”
I looked back, surprised by the unexpected offer. “Thank you, Gratia. But no. My family is not here, and so I will walk alone.”
She nodded. “Then I hope you’re prepared for battle.”
Good luck, you’ll need it. My lips curved. “Always.”
The crimson hesitated, perhaps about to offer a warning, and then she decided against it. She pushed open one of the heavy iron doors and slipped out.
I gave her a minute, then flipped my veil over. It was pretty much a heap of curtain over my head.
I pulsed my power to shove both doors open at once. They slammed back against the fortress, and I started my descent down the twenty-two stairs to the bottom.
The guests were silent. No music, no cheering. Not even any horrified gasps at my outfit, though I imagined Carmine’s stony presence had more to do with that.
If only Tempest could see me now. I grinned in the safe confines of the veil.
I imagined my sister beside me.
And Grandmother. I snorted at the idea of my grandmother sitting here with these demons.
There was no way she would have allowed me to go through with this.
She would have maimed Carmine and then incapacitated me.
I would’ve woken in a trap that I could only escape once my thoughts had returned to reason.
And Mother. I drew up the image of my mother. Her blue eyes. So beautiful. My grandmother was beautiful, too, but fucking savage. But my mother had radiated a kindness that only disappeared when she placed people in magical cages meant to break their minds and spirits.
My mother would have placed Carmine in a paradigm of hellfire; then she would have held my hand as I learned whatever was needed.
I miss them.
I missed them so much.
So much that I didn’t see the guests and hardly registered my steps until I was striding out to Pride Rock. To him.
I finally looked at Carmine. He was dressed formally in a long, sleeveless tunic over his loose trousers that gathered at the waist and ankles. The mating markings he had already received were embroidered onto the crimson tunic in black thread.
His iron crown sat upon his head.
He hated that thing. Good.
I stopped beside him and stared out at the realm. There was a wall of color in the middle realms that was a mass of gathered demons. I waved at them, and their distant cheer echoed up.
“Enamai,” Carmine said, bowing slightly.
He faced the guests, and I felt his smoke draw tight around his throat. His voice boomed for the entire realm to hear. “May the realm bear witness to the joining of a king and the future queen on this day before a king wages war on our enemies.”
The day before. Carmine was attacking Tempest tomorrow? Which meant he would soon discover the truth anyway.
But she had her demon back, an advantage Carmine had no idea about. That edge could make all the difference. I had to go through with this.
When his speech was over, Carmine turned to me again.
I faced him and held up my palm, placing the other hand behind my lower back.
The veil was proving a wise choice, because all the things he wanted of me burned in his gaze—that another might have mistaken for fury.
I saw lust in his gaze. I saw ambition.
And I saw something deeper that worried me.
“You are beautiful,” he told me.
The outfit had been wasted on him. He didn’t even see it. He couldn’t even see my face. Carmine could only sense me under here.
When I didn’t answer, he placed his palm against mine and the other arm behind his back. Now came the part I dreaded—opening my power to him. There were ceremonial words that I used to recite in my later teens whenever sleep escaped me.
Then I would open to him, and him to me.
Our magic would handle the rest.
He started, “Mate-Intended, I declare my intention to you. To walk beside you in immortality, in smoke and scale. I declare my intention to protect you and fight any who seeks to harm you. My intention is to exist in all the gifts and glory that our mating has to offer.”
I gasped as Carmine opened his power, and my palm locked to his. I couldn’t have pulled away if I’d tried.
I did try, and Carmine grunted at my efforts to be free.
The book hadn’t said anything about hand gluing. I took a steadying breath, but when I tried to speak, the words lodged in my throat.
Mother be. They wouldn’t pass. A strangled noise left me instead.
“Are you well, enamai?” Carmine said low.
Well? This bitch was prepared for battle. She just couldn’t talk. I answered him easily enough. “The words won’t come out.”
Because funnily enough, I had no intention.
Ice crept over his face. “Make them.”
“I—” I forced out.
Intend to kill you, I thought. Hate your existence. Hate that I met you. If an opportunity presented itself to end you right now, I would take it.
I imagined my grandmother sitting in the front row and cheering those words. If Carmine had glowered at her, she would’ve flipped him the bird and told him where her fucks given were parked.
I hadn’t considered this part—that I might have to mean what I said. Shit. This was a problem because the next part to this would be Carmine threatening Tempest. Which meant he’d either try to drag Tempest here or he’d drag me to Tempest. Either way, he’d find out there was no twin in the dungeon.
He leaned forward, a smile fixed in place as he whispered in my ear, “Do I need to remind you what’s at stake?”
Called it. “I’m trying.”
“I—” I said again. “I—”
Tempest would be in the front row, laughing. Mother, though… she had always preferred games of the mind. A game like this.
I couldn’t say the traditional words of the intention ritual. But I could say something that was true. Not my murderous plans, but something between.
Or…
Ah, yes. That was the way. “Thank you, Mother.”
Carmine grunted.
I drew up sixteen-year-old me. I grimaced at all her innocent dreams and hopes, but I slipped into her mentality too easily.
She’d thought about Carmine from the moment she woke to the moment she fell asleep.
Then, I’d dreamed of him. I’d fantasized about the day he’d finally give in and take me to bed.
I dreamed of the day he’d see me as a woman and an equal. I wanted to be worthy of him, and what I needed to be—queen, mate to the king, mother to our children.
My stomach churned, and I shoved away nausea to grip tight to the youngest version of me.
My protector. My champion. My confidant.