Chapter 36 Gedeon #2
“I bind you as four.” Damia twined the long strip of rope around their wrists in practiced motions, the two-hour rehearsal we had done earlier today ensuring each wrap went without any hiccups, and offered the loose end to me.
“I bind you as one.” Continuing the work Damia had started, I twisted the braided cord around the group’s forearms. The glints of the three studs in Dain’s left ear matched the gleam in Nissa’s eyes.
Everyone marked their commitment differently. Some chose tattoos. Some scarred each other, whether by knives or fire. Some wore jewelry: rings, welded bracelets without a clasp, necklaces. Some held no care for tangible things. And some preferred piercings.
Like Dain. He had adorned the shell of his ear with three flat steel discs the day they had decided to do the ritual. Patience was not a skill he excelled at.
But I completely understood him. If someone had told you they were yours, you didn’t wait for a ceremony to set it in stone. You simply claimed them by employing whatever means necessary.
Tying the knot together with Damia, the harsh strands of linen abrading our skin, we concluded our part, “We bind you for all the breaths from here on.”
Thump, the first person stomped the ground.
Th— Thump, three more joined in.
Thu— Thum— Thump. Thump. Thump, pairs upon pairs united.
Gradually, the stomping of feet surrounding us reached the peak, and our friends began to slap at their chests. The continuous chain of strikes transformed into a song, and the accompanying chant rattled my bones.
“Hear our voice.” Each of the three words was emphasized with synchronized stomps on the stone-paved square. “By our choice.” The chorus caused goosebumps to shower my flesh as they finished the verbal binding. “We judge them to be one.”
Everyone repeated the final phrase four times, once for each person, until the final stomp was completed and the judgment cast.
Conall, Nissa, Dain, and Aanya flicked their wrists, and the cord loosened, the rope unwinding and falling to the ground.
Only the knot securing the ends remained tight—what once had boasted two open ends now was one.
Streaks of scarlet drenched the woven strings, the stains serving as a sacrifice, a symbol of the oath paid in blood.
A mist of quiet sprang up around us, the crackle of flames the sole disturbance in the utter hush, until the four of them declared, “From here on, we are bound.”
Together, with the dozens of people encircling us, Damia and I finished the ritual. “From here on, you are bound.”
Tension swirled in my gut, as for a moment, nobody dared to move an inch. Or to speak. Awkwardness had settled—
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Dain exclaimed, throwing his arms around his partners.
Aanya’s giggles filled the space as they squished her between them, their embraces and kisses encouraged by hoots, whistles, and applause from the crowd.
Stuffing the pouch with the dirtied glass shards inside my pocket, now that the ceremony was over, I congratulated Conall and his family.
But all I longed for was to hold my own.
“Dear gods,” Damia shrieked. Her horror pricked me like a needle, and I shoved my wince down, down, and down, out my toes, through that rock stuck in the sole of my boot, and into the ground.
I knew this was coming. Kali and Zion had made sure of it.
“What is it?” Dain paused in toying with the silver rings climbing up his ear. “Is something wrong?”
“You could say that,” Damia drawled from behind me. “I just learned something interesting.”
“Is it the t-shirt?” Aanya squeaked, the wall of her waist-long hazelnut hair swaying as she concealed the pink in her cheeks against Nissa’s shoulder.
Damia snickered. “I don’t know if I would call it just a t-shirt.”
It wasn’t a t-shirt. More like an atrocity.
Stroking Aanya’s back, the affection creasing her linen shirt, Nissa asked, “Is it truly that bad?”
“You have to see it to believe it,” Damia said. Her amusement charged the atmosphere, and I feared lightning was about to strike.
Conall made a spinning gesture. “Well, turn around then. Give us a show.”
With a deep breath, I surrendered to his request. The bastard could count this as his last gift from me.
“Oh, gods.” Aanya’s mirth chimed like a melody as I spun to face Damia, the woman the happiest I had seen her in a long time.
“This is so much better than I could’ve hoped.” Conall’s shoulders shook. “Best wedding ever.”
“Does it say what I think it does?” Disbelief seeped from Dain’s question, further boosting the feeling I had become an object to be gossiped about.
“Yes, it says Zion’s and Kali’s Strawberry,” I deadpanned. Although the front of my t-shirt looked like any other, the back didn’t. Four words were embroidered under a large strawberry patch, the statement curving around the top of the fruit in bold black letters.
My attention snapped to Kali as she failed to conceal her tremors. Zion stood tall and proud beside her, his grin intensifying at my glare.
No one with a sound mind would have sewn this. It had to have been custom-made.
But if a punishment was what they sought, a harsh one it would be.
Nobody escaped their fate when I held the reins.