The priestess started speaking in a language I couldn’t understand, breaking the simmering tension between Kane and me.
Will-o’-the-wisps buzzed above us and I didn't know whether to be afraid or awed.
Moonlight poured over us, the full moon a shining light in the starry night sky.
Kane held up his hands, and then he was moving the veil away from my face.
His eyes widened a bit as his gaze landed on me, and I wondered if I had sweat off most of the makeup the handmaidens had applied. His jaw clenched as he pushed the veil back, revealing my face, then he held his hands in front of me, palms facing forward, and nodded at me to do the same.
“Speak the human tongue for the rest,” Kane ordered the fae, who nodded.
“As one, your magics will combine, creating something that can only be crafted when two souls join. Now call your magic to your palms.”
We held our palms together and I pushed my power into them. Kane did the same. His shadow magic made me flinch, that biting cold sending a chill through me.
The priestess chanted, taking a strange cloth out of her pocket. She put the cloth over our hands. It was a material I was not familiar with, soft as cotton and as smooth as ice.
Her chant shifted into a song that rose around us as the other fae, pixies included, joined in, and little tendrils of magic started coming toward us, drawn to the cloth hanging over our joined hands.
The pixies came forward. Each had something in theirhands. One by one they blew glittering dust, the color of rainbows, over the cloth.
Kane’s magic and mine began intertwining, the color shifting from green and black to almost a dark shade of blue like the deepest part of the sea. My hand itched and I went to pull away.
“Don't,” Kane said softly. “We must complete the ritual. Don't be afraid. It's part of the ceremony.”
I glanced at Liora, who nodded at me, golden light streaming from her palms into ours.
A beam of light, like a thin whisper, reached from over my shoulder to the cloth. The court was feeding us magic, and something was happening.
The priestess continued to sing, her voice reaching a crescendo until my hand and arm itched so much panic rose in my chest. Kane's fingers curled around mine. Instead of our palms just resting against each other, he gripped my hands, a bead of sweat traveling from his forehead to his chin.
There was a palpable fear in his eyes as he stared at our linked hands, and for all his bluster, in that moment he didn't look like the terrifying king. He looked just as scared as I did.
Gasps erupted around us as a strange flower bloomed around Kane and me. The deep-blue star-shaped rose sprouted around us in a circle. Roses had always been one of my favorite flowers, and here they bloomed in my image.
A star-shaped reminder of who I was.
The priestess’ song ended on a loud note and she slapped her hands together loudly, the magic winking out. The shimmering cloth disintegrated, motes of various colors coating us.
When the cloth disappeared, a deep blue tattoo covered my hand—a thorny design wrapped around my wrist. On my left hand, the star-shaped blue rose bloomed around the thorns. Kane looked at the similar tattoo markings on his right hand and the way they were shaped as if a thorn bush had wrappedaround us, intertwining us. The symbol crawled up his arm, disappearing under his shirt.
He pulled away, his brow scrunching. “Thorns?” He eyed them, a strange smirk on his face. “That suits us.”
His mouth stumbled over the wordusand that smile disappeared. The rose on the top of my hand almost seemed to shimmer, similar to the rune symbol on Kane’s.
Matching blue thorns connected us.
The priestess said something in fae, then turned us around to face the court. They all raised their hands in the air, their palms lit with magic. “Hail King Kane and Queen Deirdre!”
What?
What about I do and vows? The part where we proclaim our dedication to one another?
This wasn’t a wedding.
This was a binding ceremony.
Was this normal?
