He cracked a smile.A soul-binding is a carnal union when two become one. I can demonstrate that now if you like.
She glowered and he chuckled. Rune’s gaze darkened, heating like low burning coals as he appraised her again.
His voice took a rough pitch as he said, “You were carved from the night itself… and dressed in it for my torment. Thethought of letting others see you, I have half a mind not to attend tonight if my court would not deem it an insult.”
She fought a smile. “I thought this was a simple dinner.”
“Of sorts.” He went to stand by the balustrade, the wind fluttering his cape. Below the rise of the mountain, were the flickering lights of a city beyond the fog. “Samhain is the night the Netherworld breathes. When the shadows slip their chains, and even gods forget their thrones.”
His gaze drifted toward the horizon, where winged beasts screeched and flew across the sky. “The veil between life and death thins, and those who were lost walk among us. For demons, it is both a feast and a reckoning. A night of indulgence and remembrance. We honor the darkness that bore us… and the fires that have yet to consume us.”
He turned to her, a faint smirk tugging at his mouth. “There will be gifts, music, and far too much wine. The Lords will expect a spectacle. They thrive on performance. They’ll want to see their king bend the world and his queen command it.”
Alora’s brow furrowed. “And if I don’t?”
Rune’s eyes flamed faintly in the dark. “Then they will smell weakness. And Samhain is no night to bleed in front of wolves.” He stepped closer, shadows curling around his boots. “You will sit beside me as Queen. They’ll expect strength, beauty, and authority. They will watch every move you make and dream of seeing me undone by you.”
“Undone?” she asked softly.
Rune’s eyes flickered crimson. “In my court, mates are rare, for love is to kneel. And tonight, they will all expect to see a god to bow.”
Ridiculous, really. What god would kneel to a mortal? He was trying to ease her nerves. She looked away to her hands, her thumb rubbing the scar on her fingertip restlessly.
“You trust me to be a room full of demons? What if I lose control?”
Rune’s eyes glinted with amusement and his hand closed over her trembling one. “If so, I know exactly how to calm you down.”
She scoffed nervously, her face warming at the memory of his lips moving over hers. “Do you? And why would that work again?”
He stepped closer, gaze falling to her mouth. “There’s power in a king’s kiss.”
Alora heartbeat wildly as Rune leaned in closer, his nose grazing her cheek. She waited for his lips to brush hers. Held still, her eyes drifting closed.
“Before we go,” he said, pulling back. “I have a gift for you.”
Alora blinked, looking down at the box in his hands, carved of blackened wood and veined in silver. When he opened it, firelight caught on the metal of three hilts, scattering reflections like a constellation of stars.
Inside lay three daggers, each a masterpiece. The first was forged with a gold hilt and white blade,its surface iridescent as though the moon itself lived in its ore. The second blade shimmered black as shadow,the hilt engraved with symbols that shifted and breathed. But the third… the third was unlike anything she had ever seen. The orange blade churned faintly, molten at its core, as if it were forged from captured flame.
“Moonstone,” Rune murmured, naming the white blade, “to ward off the dark.”
She brushed a finger along the next. “Nightstone, to fight it.”
His hand hovered over the last. “And Sunstone to slay it.”
Alora’s brows rose. “Sunstone? I’ve never heard of it.”
“You wouldn’t have,” Rune said, studying it pensively. “It was created long ago, in another time, born from the union of light and flame.” He traced its edge, and smoke hissed from his skinwhere it blistered. Yet he didn’t flinch. “It is the only ore that can cut me.”
Her eyes widened, awe and shock tangling inside her chest.
Rune closed the lid, the faintest smile touching his lips. “My wife asked for a knife.” He reached out, sliding the box into her hands, his touch brushing hers like a promise. “You will find I keep my word.”
For a heartbeat, neither spoke. The torches flickered, shadows wavered, and Alora swore the mountain itself was holding its breath.
Her mouth parted when Rune lowered to one knee.
He drew out a sheath and murmured for her to hold up the strip of cloth of her skirt. Her heartbeat fluttered wildly at the graze of his clawed fingers brushing her skin as he wrapped the belt around her upper thigh. She briefly closed her eyes as his warm breath sent a current through her stomach. When he fastened the belt in place, Rune opened the box at her feet and drew out the Sunstone dagger.
