The Long Night #2
The audience was still admiring the scene, murmuring about the grandeur of the spectacle when Rhazien said, “Reyva. There is no reversing this. And as much as I want this, no one else should make this choice for you.”
“I’m—”
The change in lighting startled me. Like I’d had the fleeting opportunity to waver in the brief bout of darkness. But now, Orla’s dark eyes flickered as she channeled her magic to light every wick throughout the room again, and I felt exposed in the regained illumination.
Rhazien’s face remained solid and focused on me. Like a cliffside that would refuse to yield to an unrelenting sea. He leaned down, kissing me gently on the cheek and hiding his lips from the horde of guests.
In one ear I heard delighted whispers from the onlookers below, and in the other, Rhazien softly said, “If I could go back and have the choice to keep my humanity, I would have. I refuse to forcefully take yours from you.”
Stone by stone, I had built a mental wall around my feelings toward this night and everything it would mean for me.
Each one represented a piece of my anger, frustration, and fear.
For the betterment of humanity, for the safety of my family, I had committed myself to do this.
Reluctantly, and with a lengthy list of reservations, but I’d planned to agree all the same.
The choice had been stripped from me and assembling this barrier was the only way I knew how to go through with it.
“Why now?” I mouthed, the ghost of a whisper barely leaving my lips.
His hand gently ran down my cheek. In my peripheral, the crowd had a natural sway. They parted to allow masked performers who were still moving throughout the room to pass by as others watched the tender moment.
“It’s now or never.” He winked and the faintest smirk lifted the stubble on his cheek.
I inhaled, sending the air to all parts of me that felt a hollow ache to accept his offer. To keep my humanity. To…to do…to do what with it?
My mind was blank. I’d envisioned my future hundreds of times, always more simple and more peaceful than whatever reality I was living.
But standing there, the only future I could see was the product of his words, his assurances, his promises.
A more peaceful, progressive world where communities lived in harmony.
Had he spiked my wine again? Was this his blood swaying my decision?
No. My heart pounded, pushing my blood and only my blood through my veins. I was entirely myself, free to make this decision on my own.
Orla had lost patience with our posturing. “Majesty. May I continue?”
Rhazien looked to me. His gaze was measured, neutral, as if he had also built up a mental wall for this evening. There was no persuasive glare, no imposing feelings in the deep greens of his eyes. He simply stood, holding space for me to consider, and waited.
I clenched my teeth together and the ringing that built up between my ears was so loud, I almost didn’t hear myself say, “Yes.”
Rhazien let out a heavy, measured breath.
One he needed to let out slowly as to not let on to the audience that he’d been so nervous about my response.
While relief swelled in his twinkling eyes, disbelief roiled in my gut.
I was really going to do this. It wasn’t just talk anymore or plans on paper or shared dreams across a pillow while we were tangled up in each other. It was happening. Tonight.
Orla blinked slowly as she smiled and lifted her hands again to address the crowd, the sheer fabric of her robes spreading from her like iridescent wings.
“We thank The Long Night for her gift of darkness. This season of lengthened evenings is a coveted time for our people and deserves celebration every moment of her stay.”
Orla continued her welcome message, commanding the room with her regal presence and haunting, splintered voice.
I did my best to keep focus on Rhazien and my hands in his.
He anchored me. He was the buoy I needed him to be.
I’d been adrift in my thoughts but tuned back into Orla’s message at the mention of Rhazien’s name.
“—and his prospect, Lady Reyva Bergmont, stand before you this evening, ready to commit themselves to each other through our most sacred of rituals and will be bound this very night!”
Cheers erupted throughout the room and movement behind Rhazien drew my attention.
Two masked men moved along the outer wall of the ballroom.
Doors slammed shut. I quickly scanned the faces closest to us.
Those on the podium, the stairs, and below.
But my family and a few guards were the only ones I recognized.
Lydia clapped enthusiastically. Surprisingly, Cova’s eyes were brimming with newly formed tears. I gave her a weak but assuring smile. She nodded back to me in silent understanding.
Rhazien mirrored me, smiling at someone behind me in the crowd before recapturing my gaze. I told myself a smile that wide and genuine must be meant for Gorvin. Just because I couldn’t see him—or anyone else familiar—didn’t mean he wasn’t here, somewhere.
But that concern felt so far away when such a life changing moment was right in front of me.
My body shook, tremors spread from my middle and vibrated across my limbs. Sweat began to bead at the base of my neck. I blew away a steady breath, encouraging my newly formed queasiness to remain inside my body until I could find some privacy.
After the ceremony, I coached myself.
The nerves were worsening quickly.
My attention was drawn to Lydia as she wiped away a tear. She looked regal, royal, and she shared my blood. Lydia was half of me. If my aroma was alluring to the vampire citizens of the Hive, she surely had to be as well.
I will be able to protect her better at Rhazien’s side.
Yes. This was the right thing to do. It had to be. It was the first time I considered what Rhazien's ascension could do for me. And knowing she would be safe, that her humanity would be made safer, could be reason enough.
Somewhere on the outskirts of the room, another door slammed. Deep voices murmured. Candles flickered. At Orla’s magic?
“Repeat after me,” Orla’s voice gave measured instruction, “I, Rhazien Kyrell, offer my shadow to you.”
The regent’s voice repeated the phrase behind me.
“As an extension of myself and my immortal existence among this mortal plane,” Orla continued.
Rhazien lowered his hands and repeated flawlessly.
“This is both a precious gift and an unbreakable promise.”
The regent teared as he continued reciting the ceremonial script. “This is both a precious gift and an unbreakable promise.”
“That I’ll honor and protect your life until your mortality ends. And be here to support and guide you when your immortal life begins.”
His words wavered as a tear began to form. Rhazien straightened as the sentence finished, his chest expanding, and I wondered if everyone in the room could see the thin stream of dark smoke that stretched and wound across the space between us, reaching for me.
The room held their breath as Orla turned to me.
“I, Lady Reyva Bergmont, accept your shadow and offer my soul.”
My turn.
“I, Lady Reyva Bergmont...” The remaining predetermined words were stuck beneath a boulder in my throat. I swallowed hard, setting them free. “…accept your shadow, and offer my soul.”
White wisps matching the smoke swirling from Rhazien’s chest drifted from my body. The two misty rivers met and softly began to turn over, intertwining with each other.
His shadow. My soul.
I gasped at the connection. Rhazien’s darkness intertwined with my light. His pupils flared as he saw me, really saw me. All that we’d been, all that we could be melded together. Transforming from a wish, a dream, to a tangible truth.
This was it.
Orla opened her mouth to recite my next line, but her eyes went wide and the sentence came out as a struggled gurgle. A blade protruded from her open mouth. She coughed and black liquid poured down her chin, covering the runes and staining her white robes.
Rhazien’s roar shook the ballroom. The mist between us, like two skittish fawns, dissipated immediately. Guests screamed at the scene. I looked for the assailant.
Where were the guards?
A familiar, gaunt, ghostly pale face stared back at me as Orla fell forward to her knees and down the stairs.
Before Rhazien could say his name, the assailant’s malevolent onyx eyes shot to the furious regent and his sword swung with deadly aim.