Chapter 16
The wedding was quick, simple. It happened in a temple in a small forest just outside of Drumhaven. The temple seemed ancient, somehow older than life itself.
The celebrations had long since quieted. Music drifted faintly from somewhere in the tavern below, muffled by wood and distance. Up here, the world felt hushed, sacred. Snow pressed softly against the windowpanes making piles against their aprons.
Mirielle sat on the edge of the bed, wrapped in layers of white wool, her silhouette framed by candlelight. Her newly unbound hair fell like a black ribbon over her shoulder.
Reis knelt before her. The sight still felt wrong somehow. Kings were not meant to kneel. Yet there he was, massive shoulders bent beneath her, carefully holding her hand in his as though it were something fragile enough to shatter.
The shallow cut across her palm had stopped bleeding some time ago. It had never been deep. The rite was symbolic more than anything but Reis looked at it like he had wounded her gravely. His jaw was tight as he unwound a clean strip of linen.
Mirielle watched him quietly.
“Reis—”
“I know." His voice was strained.
He would not look at her.
Carefully, almost painfully carefully, he began wrapping the bandage around her hand.
“I should not have allowed that.”
Mirielle blinked.
"Allowed what?"
His mouth hardened.
“The rite.”
The words came low and controlled but she could hear the self-disgust hidden beneath them.
“You were frightened.”
Mirielle’s chest tightened. She had been frightened. Not of him. But the hall was foreign, the chanting unfamiliar, the old Kaldyrian vows sharp and ancient and overwhelming in a way she had not expected. Then the blade had been placed in Reis’s hand and something primal inside her revolted.
Reis had noticed immediately, of course. He always noticed.
“You were shaking." He continued the bandage though it was already secure. “I felt it.” His thumbs brushed once over her palm. “I should have stopped it.”
Mirielle stared at him and she saw guilt. Heavy, crushing guilt as if the smallest pain inflicted upon her was unbearable to him.
“Reis,” she whispered softly.
His eyes finally lifted to hers. "You trusted me and I put a blade to your skin."
Mirielle winced. She didn't know what to say. She wasn't upset with him. It was only a tiny scratch. More than anything, she was nervous about what happened next.
"If you want me to leave, I understand." There was something lost and broken about the way he said those words.
Mirielle was afraid, but not of him. She was afraid of the unknown. Mirielle shook her head slowly.
He watched her expression for a moment. His eyes searched hers, watchful and unbearably careful, looking for even the slightest trace of fear.
He found none.
Reis rose slowly, as though any sudden movement might frighten her away and, taking her hand, guided her to stand. Then he reached for her face with both hands, his thumbs brushed over her cheeks.
Then he kissed her. It was deep and reverent and impossibly careful. Like she had become something holy to him. Mirielle felt a breath leave him shakily before he pulled away.
"I'm going to take off your clothes," he murmured into her hair. There was something strained in his voice. Mirielle went rigid as confusion crossed her face. He felt it and responded by trailing kisses down her neck in slow succession.
Mirielle's mind went fuzzy and her body seemed to relax, his kisses deeming it impossible for her to focus on his warning.
A tight tingling sensation lit in her lower belly. It coiled low and tickled her ribs. She pinched her eyes shut as if it could send the haze away.
Reis continued to kiss her as he began unbinding the ties of her dress.
Mirielle went stiff and her skin flushed pink as it began to fall from her shoulders.
When it was loosened fully and he prepared to pull it down with the chemise underneath, Mirielle instinctively put her hands over her chest in an attempt to keep it there.
She pinched her eyes shut as if to hide from him.
He immediately took a step back leaving her standing with her hands braced on her chest.
"I can leave Mirielle," his voice was hoarse and rough, "but once we start, I will not stop." His eyes searched her with pleading and there was something desperate in his voice.
Mirielle watched his feet for a moment. Something in her heart tightened. Mirielle removed her trembling hands from her chest slowly, leaving her dress barely clinging to her body.
Reis looked at her apologetically. Then he gathered her bound hand carefully and brought it to his mouth. His lips brushed across her knuckles in a slow, reverent kiss, his eyes closing briefly as though the sight of her fear weighed heavier on him than any wound he had ever carried himself.
"Do not be afraid of me, Mirielle," he murmured into the back of her hand. "I will always be gentle with you."
Something about the promise soothed something in her and Mirielle slowly lowered her hands. Reis took her body in his arms and began kissing her again. He slowly kissed a trail that followed her dress as he pulled it from her. It fell in a pile on the floor, leaving her bare.
Mirielle instinctively tried to cover herself with her hands, the exposure shocking her. Reis carefully grabbed her hands and pulled them apart.
"I need to see you." His gray eyes watched hers before he softly planted kisses on each of her palms.
She gazed up at him, her eyes searched him in confusion. He bent down and kissed her on the lips again, as if to tell her that it's alright, that he would cherish her. Her body eased again under the power of his kiss.
His hands ran lines along her back, pulling her closer to him, gently coaxing her into him. She felt his hardness against her and her brows knit. Her body seemed to burn with an unfamiliar heat as his fingers traced over her bare skin.
He kissed down her neck again. Then he knelt down on one knee and kissed her ribs where her wound had been before, pressing a slow, aching kiss there like it had been searching for its home for a very long time and had finally found it there.
Then his lips found her breast. His breath swept over her, sending shivers through her body.
"Mmm!"
Mirielle's body went tense, her shoulders pulled inward as sparks lit up across her chest. She clung to his hair as her body battled with the new sensation. Her breaths became uneven and fast as his tongue kissed her sensitive peaks. Reis let out a low, satisfied growl in response.
He began stroking her back again with warm hands, tracing down the curves of her body to her thighs. Mirielle stiffened again.
"Relax," he murmured into her softest skin.
Then his hand went to that private spot between her legs and Mirielle startled and slammed her knees together. She never expected he would intrude there.
"Why?" she squeaked.
"Relax," he said gently into her breast again, as if he had expected it.
When her body trembled in response, he lifted her off her feet by her thighs.
Her fingers clung to his shoulders, afraid he would drop her.
Then he carefully laid her onto the bed, resting her on a pile of pillows.
She lay there rigid and confused while he climbed in beside her.
He returned to that private place again, his fingers brushing her entrance.
Mirielle tensed again and started shaking.
Her heart jumped in her chest. She clung to his shirt on instinct as he slowly pushed inside of her.
"Look at me."
Mirielle's eyes flew open and met his, desperate for any answer to her confusion. Her shaking silver eyes began to pool, wetting her dark lashes as her breath heaved in panic. Every muscle in her body braced at the intrusion.
Reis looked at her with a pained expression before he began peppering her with kisses on her forehead, her cheeks, her eyelids before trailing down her jaw.
"I have you," he murmured into her neck, reassuring her, soothing her before his finger pushed deeper into her.
Mirielle squirmed and cried a little whimper into the crook of his neck. Her thighs clenched around his arm. A pained sound rose from Reis's chest that sounded like a frustrated growl as he tried to hold himself in check.
After a pause, his fingers began moving and Mirielle's body seemed to react all on its own.
Her breathing came out in rapid, breathy pants.
Heat built in her core but her body tensed against it, curling against the sensation.
It rose until it hit a peak, rising and rising, leaving her shaking and writhing against him.
The sensation was overwhelming her. Her body's tension barred her body from releasing against him.
When he pushed his free arm on her stomach to hold her in place, she let out a pained cry.
"Let it go, Mirielle."
She shook her head desperately, her breathing labored.
"I....can't," she sobbed between breaths.
"You can."
His fingers moved faster and Mirielle couldn't hold it anymore.
She cried out into his shirt and her vision flashed white and she broke against him in crashing waves.
Sparks lit passages through her body, lighting trails to her fingertips and down to her toes.
She felt her stomach clench around him as her muscles constricted all on their own.
He moved his fingers with deft precision, pushing against the sensitive muscle inside her until the tremors ceased.
She felt something wet between her legs.
"You did so well, Mirielle," he praised her and he kissed her across her chest. Then he paused.
She was breathing heavily, her head tilted into his shoulder.
Reis looked down at her, concern laced his features.
She looked impossibly fragile beneath him.
Her body still trembled lightly from the aftermath of her climax, her fingers gripping his shirt tightly as if needing him to hold herself together.
"Why are you crying?" he finally asked softly, worry laced through his voice.