Chapter 13 #2
She let the liquid flow until it filled half the goblet.
Reaching into her bag, she wrapped a white linen bandage around her palm, before holding the dagger out to him.
Her black, opalescent eyes were solemn. “Repeat the words.” She smiled faintly.
“As best you can. The meaning matters more than getting it perfect.”
Smirking back at her, Raziel took the blade, feeling its surprising warmth against his skin. The fae tongue was fluid and complex. And there was only one other language in Runne.
“Te’eilim, ish wu’iel. Drustish, ish wu’iel…” He paused.
“Lisht’na,” she helped.
Yes. Right. “Lisht’na, ish wu’iel. Nalo ish wu’tiva tul siva, maru na talighi.” His pronunciation was clumsy but something in Nadi’s expression told him he’d captured the essence of what was needed.
She nodded encouragingly as he drew the blade across his own palm, letting his blood join hers in the wooden goblet. He let it fill before he accepted the bandage she offered him. Both their wounds would heal quickly.
“What does it mean?” he asked as he watched their blood swirl together, creating patterns that seemed almost deliberate in their complexity. His blood was much darker than hers.
“Mm… roughly? ‘Ancestors, we call you. Lords of the deep, we call you. Beloved dead, we call you. Bless us as we join our souls as one.’” She lifted the goblet with both hands, her movements reverent.
“It’s an old binding. Old and powerful. Once we drink, we’re connected in ways that go deeper than any human marriage contract. ”
“Connected how?”
“Soul to soul. Life to life.” She met his gaze over the rim of the goblet. “If you’re in pain, I’ll feel it. We become part of each other in the most literal sense. One cannot die, unless both of us die together.”
“Superstition.” He rolled his eyes. “Magic like that isn’t real.”
“Of course not. But it’s what we believe. That if we were to hold this bond true in our hearts forever, and never want to leave the other’s side… the magic would stay strong.”
“Convenient. That means when one dies and the other doesn’t, you can simply explain it away as only one being ‘ready to die’ and the other not.” He couldn’t help the cynicism. It ran too deep in him.
It was, therefore, a surprise to see her smiling. “Exactly. But, it’s… a tradition. And sometimes, it’s nice to keep traditions alive. Otherwise, what would we be as a people? Besides. It’s about what this represents, in the end. And that’s what I want.”
“And you do want this?” he asked. “Truly?”
“I do. Once and for all, I do.” She lifted the goblet to her lips and drank half its contents without hesitation. Then she passed it to him, her fingers brushing his as he took it.
The blood was warm, tasting of copper and something indefinably her. As he drained the remaining contents, he could not help but purr for a moment, loving the taste on his lips. He would never tire of her flavor.
“Is it done?” he asked, setting the empty goblet aside.
“Almost.” Nadi leaned closer, so close he could see the gold flecks in her dark eyes. “There’s one more part.”
“Which is?” He suspected he knew.
Instead of answering, she reached up and pulled his head down to hers, claiming his mouth in a kiss that was somehow different from all the others they’d shared. It was… more complete. As if she were pouring her very essence into him through the contact.
And he could swear he felt something respond inside him—a warmth that spread outward from his chest, reaching into every corner of his being. When they finally broke apart, he felt… whole. As if some missing piece of himself had finally clicked into place.
“Now it’s done,” she whispered against his lips.
“That simple?”
“That simple.” She smiled, and it was like watching the sun rise. “Congratulations, husband. You’re now married to a fae according to the oldest laws of the Wild.”
“Hm. Our weddings are so much more ostentatious. We could save so much money just kissing under a tree.” He hid the strange emotions that roiled in him beneath his humor.
Husband. She had never called him that before.
Husband.
The simple word sent shivers through him that had nothing to do with politics or strategy and everything to do with the woman in his arms. His wife. His partner. His equal in all the ways that mattered.
But something else struck him. He hummed. “However, it is remarkably similar to how vampires are made,” he observed, running his thumb along her lower lip. “The blood sharing, the binding of essences. You drink of me, and I drink of you.”
“Typical vampires. Always borrowing from your betters.” Chuckling, she rinsed the goblet and the dagger in the mirror-like pond, muttering another prayer in fae as she did. Packing away the objects into the box, and the box into her bag, they both seemed reluctant to leave. “I—”
Something shifted in the air around them. Something bitter and strange stung his nose. He sat back, instantly alarmed. He wasn’t the only one. Nadi went for the dagger in her boot and quickly rose to her feet. He did the same, scanning the room for danger.
But whatever was wrong, it wasn’t anything he could attack.
The room… suddenly began to die.
The vines above them, with their glimmering, beautiful leaves, shriveled and withered as though killed by some unnatural frost in fast-forward. Nadi gasped in horror as the branches fell from the ceiling and dropped, desiccated and lifeless, to the rock floor.
The vine-tree itself was not immune either, curling into itself. The sound of its decay was like insects crunching and cracking beneath a boot. It simply wasted away before their eyes.
“Wh—” Nadi put her hands over her mouth. “No…”
Raziel could only stare in confusion. “Perhaps our kind… are not meant to wed. Perhaps the Wild does not take kindly to a vampire and a fae becoming one.”
He wasn’t surprised to see tears in her eyes. “I just wanted… one thing. One thing to be ours—”
That made his heart crack. Reaching out, he pulled her into his arms in the dim, fading purple glow of the dead and dying vines. “We have each other. And that is all that matters. I don’t need your vines to approve of us.”
“I don’t understand…”
“Neither do I. But look on the bright side.” He huffed a half-hearted laugh at the look she shot at him. “You’ve convinced me there’s some magic in this silly ritual, after all.”
“Shut up, Raziel.” But she was fighting back the barest hint of a smile.
He’d cheered her up with that, even just a little bit.
“We should get back. The others will be expecting us. Traditionally, there would be a feast on our return. We’re meant to bring a kill for a roast. Fuck if I know if that’s what they’ll expect.
” She sighed. “But there won’t be one, either way. ”
“In a moment.” He tightened his arms around her, reluctant to let her go. “Let me enjoy being a married man for just a little longer.”
She laughed, the sound echoing off the cavern walls like music. “You sound like you’re about to die.”
“I might.” The question slipped out before he could stop it, carrying all his fears about their uncertain future.
“Well, you can’t.” She pulled back to look at him again. “You think I’d trust anyone else to help me rule an empire? I’m not going to do this with Kalo, I might stab him in the leg.”
The casual way she said it—as if world domination were just another item on their to-do list—made him laugh despite himself. That was why he loved her. That was why she was perfect for him. Anyone else would have been horrified by his ambitions.
If she was, she hid it well.
“Come on,” she said, finally stepping out of his embrace. “Time to go face reality.”
Raziel found himself taking one last look at the withered tree.
They had a raid to execute. And he had no idea how it would go.
Whatever the tree meant. Whatever it symbolized for their future… he didn’t know.
If they still had a future at all.