Before I can fully process Marius's vow, Callen strides forward, his movements liquid grace, like a cat. Callen exudes regal confidence, every inch the fae king he was born to be.
"Saving the best for last?" His eyes dance with mischief as he takes my hand, brushing his lips across my knuckles.
"You wish," I retort, but I can't help smiling.
Callen's charm is a different kind of power, seductive, beguiling. He stands before me, neither kneeling nor bowing, but meeting me as an equal. His thumb traces circles on the inside of my wrist, sending shivers up my arm.
"My Queen," he says, and though his tone is light, his eyes are serious. "I offer you my kingdom, my crown, my life."
"Callen—"
He places a finger against my lips. "Let me finish. I've spent my life opposing authority, fighting against my father's cruel reign. I never wanted the throne." His hand cups my cheek. "But for you, I'll be king. I'll build a court worthy of your power, challenge those who would deny your right to rule, and stand beside you as you remake our world."
I swallow hard, struck by the weight of what he's offering. "That's... a lot of responsibility."
"We'll bear it together." A wicked smile curves across his lips. "Besides, I'm quite looking forward to challenging the old order. Especially the parts about what a queen can do in her bed."
Heat rushes to my face. "Always pushing boundaries."
"Always." His fingers trail along my jaw. "That's my pledge to you, Brigid. I will challenge everything, tradition, power, even you when necessary, to ensure you reach your full potential. No one will cage you, not while I draw breath."
Something wild and hungry uncurls inside me at his words.
"I accept," I whisper, and I feel the words settle into place.
A spark ignites between us as I accept Callen's vow, and I feel it, a surge of power rushing through my veins like lightning. Five bonds, five pledges, now complete.
"It's done," Tiernan murmurs, his eyes wide with wonder. "The ritual binding is complete."
I stand in the center of their circle, overwhelmed by the sensation. Each connection feels distinct. Lochan's fierce and protective, Tiernan's calm and nurturing, Rory's warm and bright, Marius's intense and dangerous, Callen's challenging and passionate. The power builds within me, amplifying my own magic until I feel I might burst from containing it.
"I can feel all of you," I whisper, pressing a hand to my chest. "It's... incredible."
"We feel you too," Marius says.
Rory grins, stepping closer. "Like a piece of myself I never knew was missing, just clicked into place."
"Is this normal?" I ask Tiernan, our resident expert on ancient magic.
He shakes his head. "Nothing about this is normal, Brigid. Five consorts bound to a queen with the power of the Morrigan flowing through her veins? This has never happened."
"It was foretold," Lochan says quietly. "The murals in the ritual chamber—they weren't just decorations. They were prophecy."
My mind flashes to those explicit images painted on ancient stone—a woman who looked disturbingly like me, surrounded by five men, their bodies naked, in acts of worship and desire. I'd blushed and looked away when we'd discovered them months ago. Now I understand their significance.
The air shifts around us. The magic that bound our vows still lingers, but transforms into something more primal, more hungry. The sacred grove seems to pulse with it, the leaves rustling without wind.
Chapter Thirty Nine
Brigid
Lochan steps forward first, his fingers brushing my collarbone. "The binding is complete," he says, his voice dropping to a husky register that makes my skin tingle. "But the ritual isn't."
"What happens now?" I ask, though something deep inside me already knows the answer.
Tiernan moves behind me, his hands settling on my shoulders. "Now we honor the old ways. The ways shown in those murals."
Callen steps to my side, his fingers finding the first button of my blouse. "The queen must be worshipped," he says with that cocky grin that never fails to make my heart race. "Properly."
