Page 70 of Radiant Rites

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And Kye…

Dressed in green and as roguishly disheveled as ever, his cybernetics give him the appearance of a long, lean work of art. His jaw is slack, his eyes locked on the two of us. He bites his lip and grins as we get closer, and my heart thuds as I watch him take Fiona into his arms.

“Is there supposed to be a speech or something?” he asks, and Fiona looks to me for guidance. My two beautiful humans, clueless in the face of Merati traditions, yet still doing all this for the sake of love.

Because they love each other…and they love me.

How did the forsaken prince of Homeworld ever get so lucky?

“No speeches, unless you want to,” I say. “It isn’t an address, or a performance. It’s an alchemical…procedure, I suppose.”

“So why the whole…” Fiona waves her hand. “You know—the whole public sex thing?”

“To revel in our shared virility,” Ryker cuts in, stepping across the space to take Fiona’s other hand. I can see her cheeks flush at how close he is, his pheromones so palpable that they’re nearly as stringent as amphoria. “And because the scent of amphoria from other revelers will ease the nerves of joining.”

“Never really wanted to spend my wedding day swimming in someone else’s pheromones, but here we are,” Kye mumbles.

I nudge him hard in the ribs with my elbow, but Fiona laughs. The sound is crystal clear, cutting through any anxieties I have about whether this will be a disaster, whether I’ll be able to perform…

If Fiona isn’t nervous, I don’t have to be either.

I shouldenjoythis night.

The music starts again, taking at least some of the pressure off. It only comes back when Cressida joins us at the dais, serving as a witness to the drinking of Elixir. Taln makes final preparations, combining all of our biological material with the lifeblood of planets in a silvery draught. I see another figure approaching to find Verdie emerging from the crowd–the councilor who allied with us on Alamancia. She’s got the Mlok equivalent of a smile on her face, her fringe flared out around her head.

Fiona steps down the stairs, ignoring Cressida to fling her arms around Verdie’s neck. Verdie chuckles as she pats Fiona’s shoulder, clearly unbothered by the embrace. “I didn’t know you were coming!” Fiona says, a huge smile on her face.

“The queen mentioned that this was happening, and I was coming for the attack anyway,” Verdie says. “I moved my trip up a few days for the sake of making it to the party.”

The tension in Fiona’s shoulder eases a touch, and I breathe a sigh of relief myself. That she’ll have a friend here witnessing the ceremony instead of just Cressida is enough to set me at ease. I see Aramis, Sten, Gliss, and Florian file in as well, watching from a distance. Sten is with his wife, while Aramis’s hand trails up Florian’s arm.

We’re not alone in this. Not at all.

And then it’s time.

Taln beckons to Fiona, and she steps toward him, her long gown trailing behind her. He takes her hand in his and brushes his lips against her knuckles, evoking a sigh from Fiona before bringing her to stand on the dais beside him.

The words are centuries old, recited in the halls of Merati palaces for generations. Taln steps aside for Cressida to speak, beginning the ceremony.

I squeeze Kye’s hand. He squeezes mine back.

Together.

“Drinking of this draught will bind your lives together, body and soul,” Cressida says. “When you share Elixir, you will be mated for eternity.”

We’ve discussed what it means, of course, but hearing the words out loud makes them real. Mated for eternity, bound together body and soul. Elixir bonded mates often die of heartbreak without one another. That Cressida herself is still standing…

No. I can’t think of that right now.

“Kneel, and swear fealty to your queen,” she says, her eyes cold as they sweep across us.

We do as we’re told.

We kneel.

One by one, we fall to our knees. First Ryker, then Orion and Taln. Orion helps Taln to his knees, his bad leg making it difficult to bend like that. I look over at Kye under Cressida’s scrutinizing gaze, and I see him lock eyes with Fiona.

“You don’t have to,” she whispers. “You’re not my…you don’t serve me.”


Tags: Clarissa Bright Paranormal