Chapter Four
Nemiah
Nemiah held his chin aloft as the crown sat weighty upon his unhidden horns. As firstborn, and only son of King Behran, he’d been next in line for the throne.
Patricide and Fratricide were the norm, so it fazed nobody that he’d drawn his own sword and impaled his gormless father, who had grown irrational to the point of bankrupting their kingdom in the name of war.
A poet stood tall before him, facing the crowd to entertain them with the history of his people, a stanza added for him as the bringer of burning smoke to their lands, the inventor of the thalmway. A bringer of peace. And hopefully prosperity. He crossed his legs dispassionately. The sooner this was all over with, the sooner he could get back to his laboratory and work on the improvements that King Alluin had recommended.
A bony elbow nudged his side, and he sat up straight.
“The least you could do is look less like you’ve sucked an unripe citronelia.” His mother elbowed him again.
Her lavish jewelry had grown thin over the last few years, sold off to pay debts. The sight of it made Nemiah’s heart twinge with sorrow, and he vowed to lavish her with all she deserved one day soon. “I apologize,” he said, voice barely a whisper. “I’ve never been a fan of show.”
She whispered in return, hand held to block her lips. “Well, you’ll be a fan of showing your tadger in a few minutes. Look alive. Your betrothed is being readied.”
Nemiah barely stifled a cough of disgust. He’d bartered his heart for this deal for the kingdom, and perhaps war could continue at a later date, but they needed prosperity instead of death. It didn’t matter though. His mother never cared much that she was not his father’s ordained, but she wore her crown with pride as she watched the assembled court. Her pale eyes held none of the darkness of his own, her hair a river of deepest steel, much like her silvery-hued skin. She’d grown weak her last few years, unloved by his father, sick from depression.
Like his mother, he had to remind himself that Virion was as much of a victim to this as any of them. His father taught them that even if an arranged marriage wasn’t love, it was obligation. Obligation to make sure your partner knows their value and that they deserve happiness, too.
Since his death, she’d gained a small amount of color, and brightness had returned to her eyes.
“Don’t remind me, Mother. I’m sure we’ll reach an agreement in time, but I’m absolutely disgusted by the barbarity of this whole debacle. Am I not binding my soul to them before everyone?” Nemiah tilted his head back, the weight of his horn adornments clanging against the throne.
“You are, but I don’t think Alluin rather likes his child much to begin with. You may bond over that. Unsuitable fathers.” His mother rolled her eyes.
“Queen Kiara, will you escort our new King to his quarters while we ready the Blessed Prince for his ceremony?” An attendant bowed shortly and addressed them as the poet immediately finished.
A round of forced and quiet applause rippled the gathered people, heading toward one of his private sitting rooms. His capelet of black feathers rustled unpleasantly when he flopped into a soft armchair.
“How will you woo the omega?” His mother stared him down as she strode in, dark skirts swimming about her slender ankles.
“Honestly, with King Alluin for a father, my worst may yet woo them into providing me a dozen heirs.” Nemiah snorted.
The fragrant aroma of fresh foliage wafted by him a moment before the doorway shadowed with the soft and dainty form of his former attendants. “Nemiah.”
“Jade? Is there an issue?” Nemiah gave her a penetrating stare, no patience left for the playful imps.
“Your lover has given us new names. I am Ivy, and Blush is now Clover, and Violet is now Artemis.” She bowed her head. “As you have assigned us to him , we accepted his names. He’s a very sweet child.”
Ah, so he identifies as male. That neutral designation for omegas was another of the barbaric indecencies the Liaberians inflicted upon their omegas.
“I’m certain he is. Now, what is the issue?” Nemiah waved his hand as he studied her face as it twisted with worry.
She floated over, a mask of grace as her lips brushed the shell of his ear with a whisper. “He is no virgin, Nemiah. No alphas though.”
Nemiah rolled his eyes and sighed with relief. “Thank you, old friend. Has his purification gone to plan?”
“Oh, no issues with that, sir.” She smiled, her lips pursed flatly. “He’s weak and tired and utterly starved.”
“After this disgusting display, I’ll make sure that he eats well. Did you take measurements while dressing him? I won’t have him flitting about in that awful effeminate garb. He’ll dress warmly and comfortably to his tastes unless he is to be at my side in public.”
“We did. Thank you, Nemiah.” She bowed and flowed free of his study.
Part of him held a twisted sickness in his gut for the display that was coming, but knowing his mate was no virgin made it easier. The omega having had his ass taken before, to know what to expect, made things so much easier.
At least this won’t be the first time he is touched, this emotionally scarring thing.
Nemiah sat in dread until the fanfare played for his mate being brought in.
He took a sip of a goblet of water nearby and sighed before shrugging at his mother to follow. She’d cast their binding and make it whole.
Two steps into the grand hall, he caught sight of the male, gaze narrowing. He’d been adorned in a steely silver, an utter complement to his insubstantial colors. The pink of his eyes practically bored into him as the soft music of marriage played on a flute nearby. He truly was a sight to behold, and Nemiah had thought he’d grow to detest that paleness. But as he strode forward, dressed far better than he had been before, a pang of interest fluttered somewhere south of his navel, but not quite into his cock.
Without hesitation, Nemiah stood in place to welcome his future mate and husband.
Where Virion’s father was to guide him to the altar, there stood no one. His father, Alluin, sat front row, not even glancing back at Virion, while his two other children sat primly at his side. Saria and Seidrik, if he remembered correctly. The two had been pains in his ass he’d rue having to spend more time with if his relationship with the prince worked out. Though, the more he saw how little they cared about Virion, the more Nemiah wanted to keep the boy to spite them. As it was in his contract, he had to maintain his marriage with Virion to substantiate their deal.
The ceremony was nothing, though, compared to what they were to do to cement that claim.
Resignation flashed in those pink eyes—shame, fear. Nemiah cast his gaze away from the male so not to suffer himself the emotion such a sight would bring. He found it hard not to scold Alluin for the shameful display, but as Virion took the first steps forward, small shaking ones on dainty feet, Nemiah couldn’t contain his grin.
Virion’s eyes flashed like pink freshwater pearls when their gazes met, but he continued his timid steps without faltering. Despite his fear, he showed braveness, or he feared Nemiah far less than what he endured at home. But it mattered not as Virion’s feet crossed rich red velvet the color of bloodstains, his robes brushing and fitted over his slim form a little lax, a product of the purification he had no doubt.
Timid rabbit. A violent urge swam in Nemiah’s belly to chase and hunt, to rut and play with him, but he tamped it down as the sweet scent of lavender water and the underlying aroma of a powerful omega gripped him as much as the faint blush in his cheeks.
Nemiah’s mother, who had raised him since birth, swept in as they faced one another, her stern gaze shifting from Virion to Nemiah in warning, as if threatening him with grievous bodily harm if he were to harm a hair on the poor rabbit’s head.
She reached forward and took their hands, holding their palms together, crossing bodies so their right hands both joined.
“We gather here this evening to welcome into the night a new child of the sun as a gift to the moon, an omega by right a Blessed Prince of Liaberos in holy union to King Nemiah of Drashil, who succeeds his father this day.” She studiously withdrew a silken ribbon of blackest thread to tie their hands.
Nemiah barely noticed the ribbon as their eyes met. That timidness stayed in Virion’s eyes, his fear plain, but he did not relent his gaze into Nemiah’s eyes, so deep they could have been reading his very soul. Magic tingled at his fingertips where their warm palms joined, and the buzz Nemiah welcomed into himself far surpassed his twenty-six thalms. It had to if Nemiah felt it so strongly. He chanced a slight stroke of his thumb around the back of Virion’s unsteady hand and let their magics touch more, savoring the utter sensation. Had Virion’s father known all the thalms his child possessed, he’d have never given him up so easily.
“And as your hands are bound in symbolism, you touch your magic to learn one another by spirit.” Kiara nudged Nemiah to bring his left hand forth, to slip between the folds of Virion’s robes to rest on his warm chest. His beating heart fluttered like the wings of a sugarmoth, and even his eyes reminded Nemiah of their precious wings.
When Kiera guided Virion’s hand to complete the circuit, he gasped so sweetly, those pale lips trembling as pearlescent tined horns like those of a young buck rose from his carefully braided locks, styled in the manner of a male, another sign that he preferred the gender. The soured expressions on Virion’s family’s faces didn’t waver when his wings pushed free of the tailored slits in his robes. And just like the moth that Nemiah had surmised, he had white wings, tinged at the edges with a glorious pink and palest brown.
The warmth of his small palm slipping into Nemiah’s shirt made his breath shudder and jaw clench. He had to fight the urges this boy made him feel. Their binding was only just being put in place, and he craved the thing like a beggar craved coin.
Sweet Sugarmoth. My little rabbit, how I will hunt you in the skies like a hawk and feel you cry beneath my bite. Nemiah’s tickle of arousal for the male grew further south until his cock traitorously twitched.
Fuck.
“Speak the names of our goddesses and exchange your vows before blood will be shared.” Kiara pulled a pearl-tipped needle from within her blouse and stood ready.
Nemiah stared intently into Virion’s eyes, focusing so hard on not feeling that strange desire. “Before the moon, I declare my loyalty to you. In her name I will keep thee.”
Virion took a shuddering breath, the tinge of blush in his cheeks growing. His heart skipped a beat beneath Nemiah’s fingers and he spoke. “As my goddess goes to sleep, setting on this day, I step into the goddess of the moon’s keep, under her protection and into the arms of my alpha. As you keep me, so shall also I tend thee.”
Nemiah extended his tongue and lowered his eyelids as Kiara pricked the tip. Virion’s beautifully pink tongue extended, held by timid teeth as Kiara pricked his as well. Nemiah wasted no time in pulling the slender male in, their hands moving. Nemiah held a hand fisted at Virion’s back, crushed in his corporeal wing bases, the other cupping his face. Virion, uncertain, clutched the front of Nemiah’s robes and whimpered when their mouths met.
His lips were soft, effeminately so, but his jaw held strong and firm, clearly a man’s. Substantial. Their lips pressed firmly. Two lovers unsure of one another sank into a gentle exchange of tongue that sent boiling heat south with an intensity so strong that Nemiah no longer feared he wouldn’t be able to perform .
The kiss ended as they pulled apart to the polite clapping of the audience. Virion drew his eyes away from him and the crowd, staring at their feet while their bond settled into place. Nemiah had been told it would be intense, that it’d make him vulnerable to the poor boy’s every whim, but Nemiah was stronger and had to withstand his disgusting urges to have him no matter who was to witness.
He glanced toward his mother, whose expression bore a hint of wariness to it.
“And to all, I now pronounce them bound and united under care of the moon and her subjects. As you two are now unified, please continue to the other room to finish the traditions of our Silver Prince Virion’s people.” Kiara held her hands aloft.
“Silver Prince?” Virion mouthed the word, his eyes wide and stunned, but Nemiah could only respond by hefting him into his arms. Bedamned who’d witness the debauchery, Nemiah would do right by him.