Epilogue
Tavia
Four weeks later
“ H ow the fuck is he allowed to be here?” Des hissed over Cyan’s shoulder, glaring at the figure seated in the crowd below us.
Cyan didn’t miss a beat. “Because he’s Amy’s guest, which means you’ll behave yourself during the ceremony.”
“But why’d she have to bring him as a guest?” Laith echoed Desmond’s disdain.
The vampires’ eyes fell on me for an answer.
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “She said he kept her safe that day she went missing. Apparently they’ve been in touch.”
Des and Laith grumbled at that. “He’s using her to get to us,” Des bit out. “Why else would the last sane member of Rathka’s Order have anything to do with a freshly turned brusang? How do we know he’s not a cannibal like the rest of his kin?”
“Maybe he actually likes her,” I shot back.
Des’ expression was one of bewilderment. “Nothing against Amy, of course?—”
“Can it,” Cyan growled, his fangs long. “Do your gossiping after the fucking ceremony. He’s here. We have eyes on him, and so far, he’s minding his own business. Why can’t you do the same?”
Des lowered his chin, mumbling an apology. “You both look great, by the way. Congratulations.”
A flurry of nerves rose from my stomach to my chest. This was it. I felt like a bride on her wedding day.
This was so much more than getting married, though. I was about to become blood-bonded to Cyan, my lifespan connected to his. Instead of hoping to survive to my seventies, or optimistically, eighties, I had about seven hundred years of life to look forward to. A typical life expectancy for a vampire, but unfathomable for a human.
The entire blood mate ceremony, including the blood-bonding ritual, would be performed by a high priest from the clan Temkra’s Blood. They considered themselves direct descendants of the vampire’s main deity, and dedicated themselves to preserving the history and teachings of Temkra. For that reason, they were the ones usually called on for ceremonies such as this.
It was also rumored that the high priests of Temkra’s Blood were truly immortal, most of them being thousands of years old.
Human wedding tradition had nothing on blood mate ceremonies.
I looked out at the crowd from our place on a raised dais. The last few invited guests were finding their seats, while the public drew as close as they dared to the Blood 'til Dawn clan members posted around the perimeter as security.
We were in the main square of the Cap, and people were also watching from windows and rooftops in the surrounding buildings. The moon hung full and round in the sky, and while vampires didn’t have particular affinity for the moon phases, I found it beautifully poetic that our ceremony was being performed on a full moon night.
I spotted Amy near the back of the seating area, a handsome, well-dressed vampire at her side. He was Novak, and the one Des and Laith grumbled about being here. He had pale, silvery-blonde hair to his shoulders that contrasted with brown skin. His arm rested on the back of Amy’s chair, his gaze sweeping the crowd as if checking for any threats.
Apparently Novak belonged to a clan that was a longtime enemy of Blood 'til Dawn’s. I didn’t know the full story, nor how he ended up as Amy’s plus-one. She’d only met him two weeks before, and scared me half to death when she’d gone missing for most of a day. It turned out she’d been with him.
Amy’s expression was blank, her eyes vacant like she was lost in thought. Adjusting to life as a brusang had been hard for her, to say the least. Our friendship felt strained since her turning. She argued with me more than she ever had as a human, often yelling at me to leave her alone.
It hurt, but I tried not to take it personally, as Cyan and Bea often reminded me. Amy was mourning the loss of her old life, and the transition to her new one would take time.
She showed up for my mating ceremony, which I appreciated. For a while I wasn’t sure if she would.
Novak placed his hand in her lap, angling his head down to speak to her in a low voice. Amy immediately cocked her head to listen, her gaze sliding toward him with a slight smile. They seemed close, and I had to admit it worried me. In Sapien, guys would pretend to like her just to ridicule her and break her heart.
But no matter how deeply protective of her I was, she was her own person making her own decisions.
A figure ascended the short staircase on the back of the dais, and my breath stuttered at the sight of the priest. He was shirtless and covered from neck to waist with ritualistic scars that looked very old. I recognized a few characters of the vampire’s ancient language. Stripes of black and red paint also covered his forehead, cheeks, and torso.
The priest had long, straight black hair to his waist. He was barefoot with loose-fitting pants and a wide leather belt around his hips. There was a presence to him, a low humming vibration in the air surrounding him. I didn’t know if it was his connection to Temkra, his magic, or his age, but he radiated something that was unique among all the vampires in attendance.
“Hello, I’m Ruslan,” he said with a slight bow of his head. “It’s my honor to join two blood mates before Temkra and all of her children.” He looked at Cyan and then at me, his eyes such a dark red they were almost black. “Are you ready to begin?”
Cyan and I only needed to glance at each other for one heart-pounding moment before nodding. “Yes, we’re ready.”
“Excellent.” Ruslan gave a slight smile. “Octavia, do you renounce your human lifespan and accept the blood bond to this vampire? Your lifespan will directly connect to his, and as such you will live for centuries. When Temkra carries you to eternal rest, you will both go together. Do you accept this?”
I looked at Cyan, who was biting his lower lip as if he was nervous. As if there would be any doubt in my mind.
“Yes,” I said, a little breathless with emotion. “I accept the blood bond.”
Ruslan turned to my mate. “And are you, Cyan of Blood 'til Dawn, willing to make a vow in silver to this woman as well as a blood bond, before Temkra and and all of Sanguine present?”
“I am,” Cyan said solemnly, his gaze locked onto mine.
“Do you have a silver blade with which to make your vow?”
“I do.”
“You may proceed with your vow.”
Cyan removed his loose-fitting shirt and placed it on the small altar next to us. He picked up the silver dagger next to the shirt and unsheathed it. With his eyes on me and without a single beat of hesitation, he held the sharp tip to his skin right above where my name was carved. On his next breath, he spoke his vow as he carved it into his skin.
“I vow to honor, love, protect, and cherish Octavia…”
A sharp breath escaped me when he carved out my name, cutting into the scar tissue that was already there. Why wouldn’t he just skip over it?
“My blood mate,” Cyan continued. “Only her blood will fuel me. Only her embrace will hold me. Only her love will sustain me.”
His breathing labored slightly, and his entire left side was swollen and red, but his gaze and voice never wavered. “Octavia has my devotion, my body, my love.” The vow was long enough to be going under his chest now, cutting across his ribs which had to be horrifically painful. “Until we die in each other’s arms, and Temkra carries us to eternal rest.”
Cyan sheathed the dagger and placed it calmly on the table, although I found it difficult to see through the tears blurring my vision. He reached for my hand, rubbing his thumb back and forth over the back of my palm while I blinked rapidly and composed myself.
Ruslan gave me a gentle smile when I looked his way. “May I take your arm, Octavia?”
I held my free hand out to him, palm up.
“Cyan?”
Cyan did the same, mirroring my pose while our right hands stayed connected.
“I need to draw a small amount of blood from both of you for the blood bond ritual.” The priest’s gaze passed over us. “Do you consent?”
“Yes,” we said together. Thankfully I’d been prepared ahead of time and knew exactly what was coming.
Ruslan picked up a sharp, glinting blade from the altar. With a quick, definitive slice, he made a shallow cut across the inside of my forearm. He then moved my arm over an ancient-looking wooden bowl, turning my arm and squeezing gently to coax some blood from my wound. After he had roughly a tablespoon’s amount, he offered me a clean cloth to press over the cut, and then repeated the cut across the forearm with Cyan.
He had to cut Cyan quite a bit deeper to mitigate his fast healing, although my mate never flinched. Since feeding on me regularly, Cyan seemed to heal from surface wounds even faster than normal.
Our blood mixed in the bowl and the priest released Cyan’s arm. He didn’t offer a cloth, as the wound was already closing.
The hum of magic in the air grew more intense as Ruslan gently swirled our blood in the bowl, whispering words in the vampiric language. He pinched dried herbs of some kind and what looked like salt from a dish on the altar, sprinkling it into our mixed blood.
Visually, nothing happened. No spark or poof of magic that I could see, but I knew as soon as Ruslan stopped speaking that something had happened. It wasn’t just our blood and a few herbs mixed into that bowl. Whether it was Temkra accepting me for one of her vampire sons or some kind of chemical reaction, I knew it was a concoction that would transform me.
Ruslan picked up the bowl with both hands and held it out to me. “Whenever you’re ready, Octavia.”
I accepted the bowl and looked directly at Cyan, the cocky, flirtatious vampire with a deeply hidden vulnerable side. Even now, his brow furrowed with mild worry, like he feared I might not complete the ritual after all.
“Cyan.” I took a steadying breath. Saying vows of my own weren’t in the original plans, but it felt important to say something as I did this. “I love you so much. And I can’t wait to spend the next seven hundred years at your side, supporting you, loving you, and putting you first like you’ve done with me. You were always worthy and I’ll remind you of that every single day.”
His eyes glittered with unshed tears as he mouthed, “Fuck, I love you.”
I brought the edge of the bowl to my lips, tipped it up and drank.
The mixture didn’t taste like blood, but like liquid fire. It was hot, almost scalding, and somehow tasted alive . It didn’t move like liquid as I swallowed, but seemed to stretch out in all directions until it was absorbed into my organs and even my cells.
The sensations would have been fun to sit with, but everyone was cheering and Cyan pulled me into a bone crushing embrace.
“Congratulations.” Ruslan ducked his head with a warm smile. “In the eyes of Temkra and her children, you two are officially mated and blood-bonded.”
My arms went around Cyan’s neck, but he turned his head before I could kiss him. With a smirk and a mischievous glint in his eye, he ran his tongue along the cut on my forearm, sealing the wound closed.
“Only my fangs will draw your blood from now on,” he whispered, leaning in.
“Hm, I dunno.” I couldn’t suppress my grin as our noses and foreheads touched. “That avocado knife might give you some competition.”
His laugh was full of elation and mirth.
And his kiss? Full of love and tenderness with an undercurrent of passion that only my blood mate could give.
Thank you so much for reading Taste of Fate!
Curious about Amy and Novak, the mysterious man who sat with her at the ceremony? Those two will soon be main characters in their own book! In the meantime, get a sneak peak of how they first met in the Taste of Fate bonus scene!