Chapter 27
It was well into the middle of the night when the carriage rocked back and forth, carrying us down a dusty, rough path.
My five handmaidens and I were stuffed inside, knocking about as the horses took us deeper into the murky forest. The trees played hide-n-seek with the moon, dashing the light away behind the leaves.
Fog crept over it, blocking the brilliance of it.
Kara explained how a sliver of it was already missing, and it would shave down until nothing was there, the sky black in mourning over its absence.
It was odd to me, the moon changing shape until it disappeared.
The sun for my territory was a constant.
There were days the clouds would hide it from view, but it was always there, invariable in shape and brightness.
Thick fog curled around the base of the trees and wove like serpents through the branches the deeper we ventured into the woods. Blackness seeped in so deep that it wanted to claim me, swallowing me into the void. Taking a piece of my soul to bury.
Fire torches flickered alongside the carriage windows gave us the only light, twisting the condensation billowing from the Friesians’ sleek black noses into frightening forms. The guards on horseback stayed close, navigating us through the dense forest.
My fingers threaded together, squeezing tightly, the only outlet for my fear, my expression fixed.
“I’ve never been to a ritual before. This is so thrilling.” Kara’s endless chatting dug into my ear like a worm. No matter how many times Meya tried to shush her, the girl would not stop blurting out her thoughts or coyly adding innuendos about finding the hersir in my room.
Elvina would have shut her up with a look, but Meya did not have the same dominance a primary handmaiden needed. She seemed far out of her depth, play-acting what she thought a chief handmaiden would do. It was clear she’d never had to be one before.
“Almost as exciting as seeing the hersir this morning . . .” Kara smiled coquettishly. She was so much like Sarina, I hated her for it. My hands squeezed together until I heard bone creak.
I ignored Kara, but couldn’t fight glancing out the back window, spotting the king’s carriage. I knew right behind it was Onyx, riding Fluffy.
A frown sank me back into the seat, my pocket empty of my tiny friend.
Even he had forsaken me.
The moment Munch spotted Fluffy in the courtyard, he beelined for the huge horse, clicking happily like he was seeing an old friend.
Fluffy stomped at the ground and huffed angrily as Munch scurried up his leg to his head, gripping onto his mane and whipping the strands like they were reins, as if to say, “Go pony! Ride like the wind!”
I watched Onyx scowl at the groundling, my breath in my throat, understanding he could pluck Munch off and feed him to Fluffy before I could even blink.
But the Northerner just mounted the draugrhest, ignoring the tiny figure, like it was an ordinary day to be riding a fanged beast while a tree root twittered happily on top.
“Whoa!” A man’s voice bellowed out and the carriages slowed their pace, sitting me higher in my seat. Anxiety washed around in my stomach, my fingers automatically going to the marks on my chest, rubbing over them.
Whatever is ahead, you hold your head up with dignity.
The carriage came to a stop, voices booming around giving orders, when the door was swung open.
“My lady?” Sven dipped his head, dressed in his black leathers, his face marked with ritual runes. He offered his hand as steps were placed below.
I took it, my cape dragging after me. I found comfort in his touch, which really made no sense. The Night Hunters were my enemy; they were loyal to the king. I had no friends here. No one I could trust, yet I still clung to the familiarity he presented.
“Thank you, Sven.” I swallowed, my pearl-colored slippers stepping onto the forest floor, my attention taking in what was before me, parting my lips.
A circular clearing was designed next to a soft cascading waterfall, the water flowing into a hot natural spring, billowing up steam against the cool night air.
A dais was built near the spring, with a large altar table carved from opaque moonstone, the symbol of two ravens with their ancient names, Huginn and Muninn, etched into metal overhanging the table.
Moonstone chandeliers draped from every tree circling the space, the candlelight reflecting off the stone and water, sparkling the night like stars.
Silver-framed mirrors hung from branches, nailed to tree trunks, or were propped up on the ground, reproducing more dazzling light in the ritual space.
White moonflowers adorned the ritual table and scattered around the hot spring and forest floor. The scent of them drifted in the air.
A bonfire blazed behind the sacrament table, silhouetting the figure standing on the platform. Her curvy figure could be seen perfectly through the thin sheath she wore.
Morrigan.
Her face was painted with runes, her blond hair braided off her face with obsidian ribbon and feathers that disguised her real color. A diadem of moonstones adorned her forehead, the silver spikes of the tiara reaching up to the absent moon.
She looked like a goddess.
One that was ready for a sacrifice.
Fear heated my skin as at least fifty people moved around, staring at me. The king said it would be a small affair, private invite only. Considering last night had well over a hundred guests, I guess this would be small to him.
Their faces were painted in Night Raven symbols, and they dressed in simple black tunics and smocks that made them look like shadows. Ghosts who blended into the night, seeking souls.
“This is all for you, my dove.”
Gavric’s voice startled me, swinging my head to the figure by my side. It was the first time I had seen him since our wedding last night.
He wore a black robe, his face adorned in runes, his dark hair slicked back and a silver crown sitting high on his head. A cape of black feathers cascaded down to the ground.
Outfitted in a thin snowy sheath, silver marking my face in runes, I was his counterpart in every way. My pale tresses were brushed into sleek strands down my back, and perched on my head was a gold crown, with a cape of white feathers tied at the base of my throat.
The symbols of day and night. The sun and moon.
“What is going to happen?” I tried to keep my voice even, but fear came out in a whisper.
I had been to our yearly blót sacrifice, a sacrificial ritual to appease Huginn and Muninn marked by slaughtering a goat or sheep.
I had attended ones for marriage and death, but I knew there were many my father had not allowed me to observe until I had come of age or married.
Sarina and I tried to sneak up on one we weren’t allowed to see; we were ten or eleven. Of course, Linnea found us and tattled to Elvina.
My father had struck me that night for being so disobedient to his rules.
I never tried again.
“First we cleanse ourselves of our past, to set a path for our future. Then it will be time for our bonding ceremony,” he replied.
The sound of drums pounded into the air, Morrigan’s arms reaching for the sky.
“It is time, my lord.”
He leaned into my ear. “We might be wedded, but our marriage isn’t accepted by Huginn and Muninn until our union.
” He sauntered away to the hot spring, his thralls stripping him of his cape and robe.
His naked form confidently stepped down the stone steps into the water, his penis bouncing as he slipped in under the bubbling spring.
Being clean was very important to Ravens. We could spend hours grooming, and even more so before a ritual or ceremony.
But for me, it never had been something for the public to watch.
My heart fluttered with fear as the king’s court crowded into the ritual circle, their eyes moving to me.
“Go,” Meya hissed, shoving me forward.
I tried to conceal the shaking in my hands, the panic in my chest as I walked forward. The instinct to run darted my eyes to the dark forest; the thud of the drums triggered the howls of the king’s hounds near the carriages, drying the back of my throat.
There was no escape. People milled everywhere, their eyes on me, thirsty for my compliance, to watch something so primal. Between them, the shields, and the dogs, I would be run down in moments if I tried.
I tried to calm myself, but all I could hear was the deep rumble of his voice, trying to soothe me. “Breathe, kanin.”
Sucking in deeply, I shoved the crippling fear and terror waiting to strike within myself, like my father had me do over and over when my panic attacks started at the age of five. It was then I had realized the weight of what I bore, settling onto my tiny shoulders, causing severe anxiety.
He had me learn to control it, but there were times it claimed me, took hold, and I couldn’t fight.
“Breathe, kanin.” I heard Onyx’s voice in my head again, reminding me to inhale slowly as Meya’s fingers untied my cape.
I couldn’t see Onyx, but I sensed his gaze the most, boring into my spine, forcing air to stick against my ribs.
The cape dropped to the forest floor. Meya and one of the other girls bent over, lifting my smock from the bottom and yanking it away, exposing my naked body to everyone.
My skin prickled with goosebumps, a shiver gripping my muscles.
My teeth bit down on my bottom lip, holding back the tears.
Stay strong. Do not show emotion. Taking off my slippers, I held my head up.
Solvi took my hand, helping me down the smooth steps cut from stone, stepping down into the warm water.
Gavric’s hungry gaze trailed over my frame, his eyes flickering with the light from the candles, his arms spreading out on the smooth stone around the spring, opening his legs wide.