Chapter Sixteen
Alaya
With little fuss and just the General and a Healing Fae—who conducted the simple and short ceremony as witnesses—we were married.
Kiernan stands beside me, looking so handsome in his best dress robes, those stupid golden boots, and his golden thorn crown jauntily crooked on his head.
He even made an effort, attempting to tame that wild hair into some semblance of neatness.
He smiles at me and looks down at our entwined hands, each of us wearing a simple golden wedding band on our index fingers, the root of the heart line.
We wait patiently at the base of the dais for the Healing Fae, an Elder with pure white hair framing his bright blue eyes and lined face. He is preparing something on a table that sits before the throne. The General fidgets beside him, looking bored.
“Kaleel?” he questions, turning towards the table.
“Yes, yes, almost ready,” Kaleel replies.
With a few more mutterings, he finally turns towards us. We both know next to nothing about what this Marriage Bond entails, and I can feel Kiernan’s nervous energy through our clasped hands. I startle as the Fae’s deep voice booms out into the silent room.
“Terra, Goddess of Kaladia. Bear witness to the bonding of these two Fae. Let the earth in their hearts be forever fertile and embrace your Gifts with eternal blessings.”
He holds out a glass vial towards us, swirling with green liquid.
“You both need to drink this before I cast the Marriage Bond.”
Kiernan takes it, sniffs it, then downs half, passing it to me. It smells of meadows, spring, and a faint metallic taint of magic. I swallow the rest, and it definitely doesn’t taste quite as pleasant as it smells.
Kaleel descends the few steps until he stands right in front of us, motioning for us to raise our embraced hands.
“Terra, we ask that you bestow your sacred Marriage Bond on this union so that they live as one. One Mind. One Spirit. One Life.”
He holds his hand above our own, and I start to feel a tingle from my palm, curling around over my index finger and snaking over and around my wrist. It starts to get hotter, a pain searing into my skin as if etched with a burning needle.
I am about to break our embrace when the pain suddenly stops, and Kaleel bows his head.
“It is done.” He stands up straight, looking towards the General.
As I remove my hand from Kiernan’s, the General steps down, and we all look down at our hands.
From the heart line on the palm, a thin golden thread is etched in my skin, delicate and glinting in the low light.
Tendrils snake up and around my index finger below the golden band and coils around my wrist, entwining to an intricate pattern, a band just above the wrist. Kiernan is also looking at his in awe, the pattern a beautiful tapestry on his skin.
“You may leave,” the General says gruffly “I will let the King know it is completed. Kiernan, you are expected at the Barracks first thing tomorrow. Enjoy your wedding night.” He smirks and stalks towards the doors.
Kiernan lets out a long, quiet sigh—the sound more relief than passion—and gently frames my face in his hands, his thumbs tracing the smooth line of my jaw. His eyes, swimming with a quiet, undeniable depth, don’t leave mine for a moment.
He leans in, the movement unhurried and reverent.
The kiss is soft, a delicate pressure of his mouth on mine—a tender promise rather than a demand.
It lasts only a few seconds, but when he pulls back, his lips barely lifted from mine, a faint, contented smile touches the corners of his mouth.
He rests his forehead against mine, closes his eyes, and simply murmurs, “We did it.”
“Do you feel any different?” Kiernan asks as we break apart and make our way out of the Throne Room, our now golden-threaded hands once again entwined.
“Not really. You?”
“Nothing’s changed—except for this gnawing, bone-deep ache to get you to that cottage, alone. If we don’t go soon, I can’t promise I’ll stay civilised.” He laughs.
We make our way out into the soft late afternoon light, strolling towards the cottage. A few Fae we pass nod and call out their congratulations.
It’s located just past the Western Pasture, and I grow quiet as we near it.
I haven’t seen or spoken to Heller since he asked me to run away with him, which I feel guilty about, though he will know by now that I am married.
I had no words that would ease the pain my rejection had caused him when I had fled him that day, and I found it easier to just avoid him, coward that I am.
I promise myself to try and repair that friendship that had come to mean so much to me over the years.
As we pass the stables, he is there, leaning on a broom in the doorway. He simply nods, then he drops his gaze and walks further into the barn.
The cottage is now just up ahead, the small dark stone building sitting in the shadows of the soaring perimeter wall. Kiernan unlocks the door with a key from his pocket and gestures for me to enter.
“Mrs Steel?” He gestures towards the door, a wide, wickedly glinting grin lighting up his face.
“My pleasure, Mr Steel.” I smile as I pass into the low-lit room beyond.
I’m in a lounge area, the small room dominated by a large fireplace.
The room is simply decorated with a small sofa heaped with cushions and blankets, a small square table and chairs sit at the back, and a long sideboard sits against the wall by the door, a large vase full of golden flowers upon it.
A single door leads out of the lounge, and when I open it, the room beyond holds just a large four-poster bed, the panels draped in golden fabric.
As I have explored, Kiernan has lit the fire and I notice fresh fruit, a loaf of bread, cheese, and a carafe of Fae Wine with two glasses on the table. My belly groans, not having realised how hungry I was.
“Eat, you’re going to need it.” Kiernan gestures to a chair, a hint of something unreadable in his eyes.
I settle into the seat, my pulse quickening at his words. “Need it for what, exactly?”
He pours wine into both glasses, his movements deliberate. “It’s been a long day. And I heard your stomach growling from across the room.”
Heat creeps up my neck. “I didn’t realise I was that hungry.” I reach for a piece of bread, tearing it slowly. “I suppose I’ve been … distracted.”
“And now?” He sits across from me, his gaze steady.
“Now it’s just us.” The words hang between us, heavy with meaning.
We eat in silence for a moment, but it’s different from the comfortable quiet we’ve shared before.
This silence hums with anticipation, with the weight of what comes next.
Every glance feels charged, every accidental brush of fingers as we reach for the same piece of fruit sends heat racing through me.
When he finishes, he rises and removes his robe jacket, draping it over the back of his chair.
He throws the cushions and blankets from the sofa onto the floor in front of the fire and sits down.
I rise to join him, warming myself on the flames as I pass.
I need to get this dress off soon, its sweeping skirt too cumbersome in this small space.
As I want to join Kiernan on the sofa, he holds his hand up.
He sinks back into it, both his arms draped across the back.
“Wait”—he grins with a wicked glint in his eyes “—though I find that dress spectacular, it would look infinitely better on the floor.”
I look at him confused until he gestures to the dress and then the floor.
“What, here?” I ask, smirking when I realise what he’s hinting at.
“We are alone, and I want to enjoy my wife in all her newlywed glory.”
His wife.
A tingle of longing runs through me, and the intricate golden swirls on my hand flare, sending a burst of heightened emotions after it and another feeling that twines with my own.
Kiernan raises his hand, staring at it in wonder.
“You feel that too?” I ask.
“Your lust surging with my own? Oh, I’m going to like this Marriage Bond,” he drawls. “Now slowly, drop that dress to the floor so I can worship you.”
I need to get used to these shared emotions as my legs nearly give way when a fresh wave of desire spreads through me.
I reach back and undo the few small buttons at the base of my back, the only thing keeping the dangerously low-cut dress on.
As I do, it starts to slide down, exposing my breasts.
I wiggle my hips a little and start pulling the dress over them, it still quite tight even when undone.
I am still staring at him, his eyes glazing in a fervent hunger.
Slowly, I push it down over my hips, over my black underwear, and let it slither in a rustle of fabric to pool at my black heeled feet.
“I have half a mind to shoot down the sun,” he murmurs, his voice a jagged, sensual threat, “so that I am the only light you ever see—and you are the only vision I ever permit to exist.”
His possessiveness ignites the fire in my belly and feeling it twofold down the Bond only makes the flames grow quicker.
He shifts on the sofa and I gasp with rising desire as his growing erection presses against the front of his trousers. It’s getting warm in the small room with the fire going, and he pulls his shirt up over his head, tossing it behind the sofa.
I step out of the dress and pick it up, laying it across one of the chairs. Then I start to step out of the black heels I am wearing.
“Leave them on,” he growls.
I stand there amid the scattered blankets and cushions, feeling a little exposed as he stares, the firelight reflecting in his piercing gaze.
“In a moment, I’m going to fuck you slowly until you beg me for your release, and then I’m going to fuck you so hard and deep on every surface in this cottage that the furniture will be only good for tinder on that fire.
Yet I want to savour you like this for a while longer.
Show me where you want me to touch you, Alaya. ”
Everywhere.