She finished the rest of my body quickly, her hands pulling away from me like she couldn’t bear to touch me for another second. Stepping back, she thrust the bowl toward the officiant, desperate to rid herself of the task. Her face was flushed, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her eyes darted to mine before she quickly looked away.
My body ached with unspent need, tension coiling in my core. I swallowed hard, forcing it all down. I couldn’t afford to lose control—not now, not here.
I took the bowl from the officiant and dipped my hands into the oil, the cool liquid pooling around my fingers as I prepared for my turn. If Vivian thought her part was over, she was in for a surprise. I wasn’t going to rush this, wasn’t going to let her escape the intimacy of the moment.
No. If I had to endure the torment, then so would she. Every inch of her was mine to claim, if only for the sake of the ritual. And I was going to make damn sure she felt it.
I started at her neck, my thumbs brushing over the skin just below her jaw. Her pulse thrummed unsteadily under my touch. I moved to her shoulders and down her arms, taking my time. Ishouldn’t have, but I couldn’t help myself. She was too perfect, too fucking captivating.
When I reached her breasts, she sucked in a breath. She didn’t say anything, but the sound sent a bolt of electricity through me. Her nipples pebbled beneath my palm, and I lingered there longer than I should have before forcing myself to move on.
“Turn around,” I said, my voice low.
She swallowed hard, but she obeyed. I dipped my hands back into the oil and ran them down her back, her skin soft and warm beneath my touch. When I touched her ass, she jerked slightly.
“It burns,” she said suddenly.
The officiant glanced up from his scrolls. “It is because she is human. The oil was not crafted with mortal skin in mind. However, the cleansing must be completed.”
I clenched my jaw as I made quick work of the rest of her body. She was trying to be brave, but I could see the unease creeping into her posture, the way she shifted slightly as the oil did its work. By the time I finished, her shoulders were trembling, and I could feel her discomfort like a tangible weight in the air.
“This is only the beginning,” the officiant said, his voice devoid of sympathy. “Steel yourselves. The ritual requires endurance.”
Endurance.
I stole a glance at Vivian, her fists still clenched at her sides, her eyes fixed on a point just beyond me. For all her fear, she was holding it together.
The officiant’s voice carried a calm authority that felt almost mocking against the tension in the room. “Now the ritual can begin. Face each other.”
I stepped forward. Vivian hesitated, her body stiff, her fear written in every line of her posture. She didn’t want this—I couldsee it in her wide eyes, the tremor in her fingers—but she obeyed, her chin tilting up with a flicker of defiance.
“Raffaele,” the officiant intoned, “you know what to do.”
Of course, I did. I’d memorized every step of this ritual years ago, though I’d hoped I’d never have to perform it. I had sworn I would never willingly bind myself to anyone—toanything. And yet, here we were.
I met her gaze, softening my voice just enough to temper her fear. “My shadows are going to touch you.”
Her brows furrowed, confusion mingling with apprehension. “What does that mean?”
I let out a slow breath, steadying myself. “They are an extension of my will. They’ll act as conduits for the magic, tracing the oil on your skin and searching for a connection point in your aura. It’s necessary for the bond to form.”
She looked like she wanted to argue, but thought better of it. She gave a jerky nod and took a deep breath.
“Stand still,” I said, my tone firmer now.
I extended my hand, summoning the shadows with a thought. They obeyed instantly, swirling out from the edges of the chamber, drawn to me like moths to a flame. The tendrils of darkness coiled and writhed as they brushed against her bare skin with a whispering touch that seemed almost sentient.
Vivian shuddered the moment they connected, her back arching involuntarily. I forced myself to stay focused. For me, it was second nature. For her? It was probably invasive. She wasn’t used to shadows swirling around her, probing her aura.
Her knees buckled slightly, and a small, involuntary gasp escaped her lips. “What are they doing?”
“They’re searching. Your aura must align with mine for the bond to form.”
Her chest rose and fell as though the very atmosphere had thickened around her. Her fists clenched tightly, her knucklesgoing white. Then she gasped—a sharp, broken sound that tore through me like a blade.
“It feels… wrong.”
“It’s not supposed to feel normal,” I said automatically, though my stomach churned. “Stay still. They’re almost done.”
