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Kaya looked at herself in the broken mirror. Though fragmented and distorted, the image of her dressed in the Drikieran garb was so vividly clear to her.
They painted runes onto her skin in the same black and gold they wore, dressed her in a shimmering gossamer fabric that they bound around her breasts, made an X over her stomach and then wove between her thighs. A skirt of the same material was tied around her waist, but all of that purple fabric did nothing to completely conceal the areas covered.
She felt vulnerable. Bare.
And spent enough time studying the runes to know that they called to Cadaith, calling for blessings of life. Strength.Fertility.
She shuddered, lifting her chin and examining her coal-lined eyes before she turned and walked out of the tent. The other maidens were waiting for her there, smiling at her, before they coaxed her towards the fire. The pounding of drums filled the air, laced with loud chants that made her heart thump rapidly in her chest. The others that accompanied her began dancing, twirling and bouncing around the lapping flames that seemingly tripled in size—stretching towards the ether, towards the moon that was bright and round in the night sky. Chasms filled with liquor were thrown into the fire, hissing against the cherry-red logs stacked in the center and sending sparks flying.
Kaya watched, her hands knotted in front of her.She felt small—out of place and so, so bare.
The watchful eyes of the males that surrounded them grew hungry and dark, silver life flickering behind them as the primal urge toclaimtook hold of their senses.
He’s watching you.
Dance for him.
She shivered, taking up one of the chasms placed amongst the logs and tossed it back into her mouth. The warmth of the alcohol spread through her chest, filling her with a heaviness that was almost instantly agonizing.
She felt the weight spread through her body, through her limbs, and her barely-covered torso. It settled, hungry and depraved, in her womb—in the part of her that hadn’t been thoroughlyfuckedin a long, long time.
“Shit,” she gasped, the overwhelming desire causing her body to rock forward, her hands pressing against her navel. “Kaya, youidiot.”
How she hadn’t come to the conclusion that this was a fuckingmatingceremony was beyond her. She whimpered, eyes hopelessly searching the crowd for Ilias in hope that he would know what to do—that he couldhelp herbefore she was whisked away into a tent somewhere with some strange male that was high on her pheromones.
Dance for him and he will come.
Oh, these bastards were really grating her nerves today. She hissed at them, feeling her shadows retract into her Core. “I don’t know how to dance.” She wheezed, legs rubbing together in desperation—for friction, for something—
She moaned, sweat beading at her temple as she straightened her spine and began to sway. Her movements were slow, guided by the unseen force within, until the pounding of the drums seemed to align with the beat of her heart. It consumed her, controlled her, forced her body to move.
“Idiot. I am an idiot.” Kaya gasped, the gossamer between her legs seemingly digging deeper into the swelling intensity between her thighs. She felt the heat of his stare before she could see him—felt his eyes on her, felt that pulling sensation that seemingly guided her to him. And then she looked up, her eyes round with a helpless plea as they landed on him.
Ilias.
Ilias.
Ilias.
His arms were folded across his chest, his lips pressed into a thin line as he watched her. She was still dancing, still spinning, still moving her body in sultry ways she’d never moved before. And he watchedher.
The pulsing between her thighs grew stronger, her cries growing louder and louder and louder, until—
“Let’s go.” Ilias growled. With a hefty breath of air expelled from her lungs, he slung her over his shoulder as if her weight meant nothing—as if she were merely an obscenely aroused sack of potatoes.
Overwhelmed with what she could only think to call a sickness, Kaya didn’t even realize she was tossed onto a bedroll until she saw him looming over her, his hand outstretched in her direction and holding a cup. She blinked, panting and sweating, as a drop of water landed on her thigh. Even the touch of liquid seemingly made that fire in her veins burn hotter, burn deeper.
“Drink it, princess.”
Her lips parted, her chin lifting as she pushed herself up onto her forearms. There was a low rumble from deep within his chest, that dangerous silver light flashing behind his eyes. But Ilias knelt before her, his fingers forming a cup under her chin as he lowered the drink to her lips. The scent of chamomile and lavender hit her nose and she sighed into the steam. She drank in long, desperate gulps—the liquid instantly easing the heat in her chest. It spilled from the corners of her mouth, rolling down her chin, her neck, in between her breasts.
Shemoaned.
Ilias drew in a deep breath, the human voice in his head trying to wager with the side of him that was too primal to be rational. He could smell her arousal—felt the tantalizing hum of her erratic pulse, even while standing three feet away. It was a scent that had him wanting to bury his head between her thighs, tear that sheer fabric to pieces—
“Ilias, please.” Kaya was now on her knees, tugging at his arm in desperation. “Please help me.”
