Blade leaned around her to look at me. “Do you know what the fuck is going on?”
I shook my head and scanned the screaming crowd. It was not often we saw everyone so damned happy. “No fucking idea.”
“Shut up, both of you.” Harper’s smile was wobbly and her eyes filled with tears. She knew. Damn female intuition.
Blade’s confusion turned to alpha protection mode when he saw her crying. “What is wrong? Are you hurt? Why are you crying?” His voice boomed, and he pulled her to him, checking her over.
She laughed and pushed him away. We both relaxed. “You two can be really dense.”
“Dense? What does that mean?” I asked. Sometimes, her Earth vernacular required more translation than the NPUs could provide.
Scribe stepped to the side and swept his hand out toward our enforcers, who had moved and organized at the front. They stepped forward and stripped their shirts from their bodies. The men stood bare chested and Silver remained covered in only a thin band that contained her breasts for battle.
Styx legion roared approval, and I felt my body go numb. For the first time, I was caught by surprise and had no idea what to do about it.
This was impossible. No outsider had ever—no.
Silver stepped up first and knelt with her bare shoulder before Scribe. “Her name is Harper, Scribe. And she is mine.”
The room was tense as Scribe leaned down and inked Harper’s name into Silver’s flesh. The buzz from the needle was the only sound that filled the room.
Cormac, Ivar and Khon followed suit and Harper swayed between us. We closed in, surrounded her with our heat and strength, our love as the time dragged on.
My enforcers were followed by the captains.
They were followed by the civilian leaders of every sector.
My enforcers stood at attention in respect until the final ink was placed. When the last bit of ink was finished, we turned to face the legion. They kneeled, every man and woman pulling the neck of their shirt to the side to reveal the freshly healed placement of their new marks. Harper’s name had been added to everyone, the dedication and declaration of the entire Styx legion as one. She was our mate, but she belonged to our people as well.
Harper broke free from our hold and walked toward Scribe, wiping tears from her eyes.
She pulled her own shirt from her head and knelt at his feet.
Without thought, I moved to block her, to shield her from view of everyone. She wore just a bra and while it was black and plain, she was sharing more skin than I wanted. Her body was for my eyes—and Blade’s—only. Grabbing the shirt from her fingers, I covered her with it, although it didn’t do much good.
She ignored my efforts and said, “I claim them all.”
The responding sound that came from the gathering now made the previous roar sound like a baby’s weak wailings.
Blade leaped forward as Scribe raised the needle to her flesh, stopping him by holding his wrist. “No!” He turned to me, panic in his eyes at the pain Harper would endure.
Harper’s green gaze lifted to mine, the love and devotion there humbled me, and I dropped to kneel before her.
r /> “You’re serious about this?” I asked her. My voice was quiet, but no one could hear.
She nodded. “I’m sure.”
I looked at the scars on either side of her neck. They’d healed well, only slightly pink still in contrast to her pale skin. But no one would question her loyalty with those marks. The double bites. That wasn’t enough for her. She wanted more. She wanted to be like us. I kept a hand on her back, holding the shirt over her bare skin, offering a little bit of modesty.
While she might not be modest, I was for her.
Blade loomed over both of us, blocking out the legion. He nodded once.
I looked to Harper who waited. She was willing to accept my answer, but it was probably because she knew I would give in. She knew this was important to the people. To her. Surprisingly, even to me.
“One name should suffice, Scribe,” I said.
He grinned, tilted his head slightly. “I agree.”