32. Kaelus
KAELUS
The ceremony was held in the garden courtyard behind Varell and Maera’s home rather than in the Council chamber, for which Kaelus was glad. Clair had once told him that human weddings frequently involved flowers, so he was certain she would appreciate the setting.
Pale blue blossoms hung from silver-barked trees in long cascading vines while tiny luminous insects drifted between them like floating stars.
Beyond the low stone wall, the violet-blue lake reflected the last light of the setting suns, and the lavender sky had deepened toward indigo.
Only Maera, Varell, and five members of the Council were present, all dressed in formal robes.
Then Clair stepped through the garden doorway and Kaelus forgot how to breathe. Maera had dressed her in deep emerald green, and it suited her beautifully.
The gown wasn’t elaborate by Titus Four standards, but on Clair it was devastating. Soft fabric hugged her generous breasts and waist before falling in loose folds around her legs, and her curly hair had been gathered partly away from her face with tiny silver flowers woven through it.
She wore no shoes, as apparently the Vow required both husband and wife to stand barefoot upon the earth, and there was something unbearably intimate about seeing her small bare feet beneath the edge of the gown.
Her warm brown eyes found his and she smiled.
At that moment, the Bond slammed against the barrier in Kaelus’s mind with such force that he almost lost control of it.
Mine, said a voice in his head. Mine—she should be mine forever!
It wasn’t the Savage voice this time—wasn’t the virus speaking through him.
It was just how he felt. Clair should be his and he should be hers.
They belonged together—he knew it. She ought to be his wife—his mate.
She was the woman he loved—the woman he would always love and he couldn’t take his eyes off of her.
Kaelus forced the thought away, though it didn’t want to go.
Fake—this ceremony is fake, he reminded himself.
But then why did it feel so real?
Clair walked toward him with Maera beside her.
“Well, big fella, you clean up pretty nice,” she murmured.
His chest tightened painfully.
“As do you, Lissa’ra.”
“Just pretty nice?” She lifted an eyebrow. “I was going for spectacular.”
“You succeeded,” Kaelus said quietly.
Her teasing expression softened.
“Well, thank you.”
Kaelus wanted to tell her she was the most beautiful female he had ever seen. He wanted to pull her into his arms, bury his face in her curls, and tell her the truth about everything.
Instead, he held himself motionless while Varell stepped forward to begin the ceremony.
“The Vow of the Goddess predates the Great Accord,” he explained, his voice carrying through the garden.
“Its earliest form was spoken during the darkest period of our history, when males feared the violence within themselves and females feared the males they loved. Over the centuries, the words changed, but their meaning remained. A male who speaks this Vow does not surrender his strength. He promises that he will use it to protect his goddess.”
Kaelus looked at Clair and saw that she was watching him intently.
Varell continued.
“Doctor Kaelus, if you choose freely to speak the Vow, kneel before your goddess.”
Kaelus lowered himself to one knee—the position put him almost level with Clair.
A flicker of surprise crossed her face, probably because she was so accustomed to looking up at him, and then she gave him a tentative smile.
Kaelus found himself memorizing every detail…
the faint freckles across her nose…the curve of her cheeks…
the green fabric framing the generous swell of her breasts…
the tiny crease between her brows that appeared whenever she was trying not to become emotional.
He took it all in—he never wanted to forget this moment.
Varell spoke again.
“Offer your hands,” he ordered.
Kaelus held them out and Clair placed her much smaller hands in his.
The moment their skin touched, the Bond surged again and Kaelus felt warmth, desire, and love flowing between them. If this kept up, Clair was certain to know what he was hiding.
He forced himself to clamp down hard and strengthen the mental barrier between them.
Clair frowned faintly—a look of confusion on her lovely face—but she said nothing.
Varell spoke again.
“Speak from your heart, Kaelus,” he said. “The words are yours.”
Kaelus had memorized the formal Vow, but now it seemed inadequate.
So he spoke the truth instead, knowing it would be his only chance to do so.
“Clair Donovan,” he rumbled, “I give you my strength—not so I may rule you, but so I may stand between you and anything that would cause you harm. I give you my hands to hold you when you need comfort, to care for you when you are weary, and to catch you whenever you insist on climbing shelves which are clearly too high for you.”
A ripple of laughter went through the small gathering and Clair smiled.
“You just had to put that in there, huh?” she murmured. “This is supposed to be romantic, you know.”
“I know,” Kaelus said. “I am attempting to ensure your continued survival. That’s romantic.”
She shook her head, but her eyes were shining.
Kaelus tightened his hands around hers.
“I give you my body, not as something I expect you to accept, but as something that belongs to you if you freely choose it. I will never take from you what you do not willingly give, and I will never use my size, my strength, or my desire to silence your wishes. Your body is yours, Lissa’ra.
Your choices are yours. They will remain yours for as long as I live. ”
Clair’s smile disappeared and emotion filled her face.
Kaelus nearly stopped. Yesterday he had violated those very words. The virus had controlled him, but his hands had still held her down. He had still forced her onto his mating fist while his fangs had pierced her throat.
I don’t deserve her!
His voice roughened but somehow he continued.
“I give you my protection, though I know you are strong enough to protect yourself,” he said.
“I give you my care, though I know you are capable of caring for yourself. I give you my counsel when you ask for it and my silence when you do not. I promise that your voice will be heard beside mine and never beneath it, because loving you does not make you lesser and caring for you does not give me the right to control you.”
A tear slipped down Clair’s cheek.
Kaelus wanted desperately to wipe it away, but he didn’t dare let go of her hands.
“I promise to nourish you when you forget to eat, which you do with alarming frequency,” he went on.
“I promise to make your coffee the way you like it even though the amount of cream and sweetener you require remains scientifically indefensible. I promise to listen when you speak about plants I have never heard of and I promise to complain when you move my equipment, because some things are apparently beyond even the Goddess’s power to change. ”
Clair laughed through her tears.
“You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?” she whispered.
“I have been informed,” Kaelus said. “Frequently.”
“Because you need frequent reminders.”
Her hands squeezed his and Kaelus’s throat tightened.
This was how it might have been, he thought. If he had been an ordinary Kindred male, if Clair had wanted him—wanted to be with a male again. If yesterday had never happened.
If their Bond had formed because she chose him rather than because a manufactured virus drove him beyond sanity.
The thought brought a stab of pain, and he pushed it aside and forced himself to continue.
“I promise that your safety will come before my comfort and your happiness before my pride,” he told her. “If you need me, I will come. If you call my name, I will answer. If you are afraid, I will stand beside you until you are not. And if you ever need me to let you go…”
His voice failed and for a moment he couldn’t go on. But this was the most important vow of all.
Clair’s brow furrowed and she seemed about to ask a question.
Kaelus swallowed hard and went on.
“If you need me to let you go…then I will let you go,” he said, his voice coming out hoarse and uneven.
Something flickered through their Bond and he felt it—pain. Not his, but Clair’s.
Kaelus almost dropped the barrier entirely in shock, but he caught himself just in time. Why would that promise hurt her?
Before he could understand it, Varell spoke softly.
“There is one final part,” he murmured. “The oldest part—the one that every Titus male speaks to his goddess at the end of this sacred Vow.”
Kaelus knew the words—he had memorized them easily. He looked directly into Clair’s eyes and spoke them.
“I am yours,” he said. “My strength is yours. My protection is yours. My hands, my body, and my life are yours. Until death takes me, I will honor you as my goddess.”
Silence filled the garden, followed by quiet clapping but Kaelus barely noticed anyone else was there.
For him, there was only Clair.
Her hands trembled in his and tears stood openly in her eyes now.
“Kaelus,” she whispered. “Oh, Kaelus…”
Kaelus squeezed her hands tightly. He had done it—he had given his mate the only wedding vow he would ever speak.
And she had no idea.
Varell turned to Clair.
“A goddess is not required to make a vow in return. The male gives his devotion freely, without demanding payment for it. But if you wish to accept what he offers, you may do so.”
Clair looked down at Kaelus and for one terrible, hopeful moment, he wondered what she would say.
Then she slipped one hand free and laid it against the side of his face.
“I accept,” she whispered. “All of it, you big, stubborn, impossible male. And all of you.”
She bent to kiss him and the Bond between them exploded with warmth and love—an overwhelming river of emotion washing everything away.
Suddenly, Kaelus couldn’t hold it inside anymore. She might hate and revile him when he told her the truth, but he couldn’t stop himself.
“Clair,” he said, looking into her eyes. “We are Bonded.”
Her eyes went wide, then narrowed.
“But I thought you told me Hybrids couldn’t—”
“We can’t,” he said quickly. “But you and I did. I do not know how—maybe it had something to do with the chemical composition of the veloria or the hormones released into my system when I was injected with the Savage Syndrome virus. But however it happened, it happened—you and I have formed a permanent Soul Bond.”
He bowed his head as he spoke, unable to bear to see the look in her brown eyes when she realized what he had done.
“I know you’ll probably hate me now,” he said in a low voice. “You told me that after your parted from your ex-mate, you never wanted to be with a male again—let alone be tied to one for life. You don’t want—”
“Kaelus, look at me.” Her small hand slipped under his chin and she tilted his face up so they were eye-to eye again. And then, suddenly, Kaelus understood something—she knew. About the Bond, about his feelings for her—somehow she knew about everything.
“Of course I know—I did some research,” Clair sent back to him.
“At first I thought it was impossible—Hybrid Kindred aren’t supposed to be able to Bond.
But the fact that we’re hearing each other’s mental voices and feeling each other’s emotions, well—there’s no other explanation. We Bonded when we had sex, didn’t we?”
“Yes,” Kaelus admitted heavily. “We did.”
“And when exactly were you going to tell me?” she demanded, pulling away from the kiss and frowning.
His first instinct was to panic but he decided it was better just to tell the truth.
“Never,” he admitted. “I thought it might be better to leave you and let the Bond fade.”
Clair’s face looked suddenly stricken.
“Then…you don’t want to be Bonded to me?” she asked.
“Of course I wanted to be Bonded to you!” Kaelus sent impatiently. “But you don’t want to be Bonded to me.”
“How do you know I don’t want to be Bonded to you, you big idiot?” she demanded out loud, glaring at him.
“Because you told me so!” Kaelus exclaimed. “You told me you never wanted to be with a male again!
“I said that because I’d just gotten out of a marriage to a narcissistic asshole!” Clair snapped.
“You said you were finished with relationships, that your marriage had taught you never to surrender that much of yourself again,” Kaelus said, switching back to his mental voice for the sake of privacy.
“You came here because of the mission, not because you wanted a mate, and when I was infected, you offered your body because you believed it was the only way to save my life.”
“That wasn’t—” she began, but he overrode her.
“I should have remained restrained when you found me,” he sent, pouring out his guilt. “I should have protected you. Instead I broke those restraints, forced you onto my mating fist, bit you, and Bonded you to me without your consent!”
Clair put a hand on her hip, frowning at him.
“So that’s what all this is about? You think you don’t deserve me because of how we got Bonded?”
“I know I don’t deserve you,” Kaelus sent heavily.
“Well, what if I want you anyway?” Clair said aloud and her eyes were suddenly filled with tears.
Kaelus looked at her in disbelief.
“You don’t mean that,” he murmured. “I hurt you, Clair—I used your body for my own gratification. I forced this Bond on you.”
“You were under the influence of the virus,” she reminded him. “And in case you forgot, it was my idea to have sex—not yours,” she added mentally.
Kaelus was having a hard time processing her words—mostly because he wanted so badly for them to be true that he didn’t quite trust himself to be rational.
“You told me yourself you did not want another permanent relationship,” he reminded her.
“That was before I fell in love with you, you enormous idiot!” Clair shouted.
Then she took his face in both her hands and dragged him forward for a long, passionate, angry kiss.