“Are you able and willing to take the blood oath?”
“I am.”
Satisfied with my answer, Anxo picks up the ceremonial dagger, which is polished to perfection, and from the corner of my eye, I see Hazel practically salivating over the weapon. A crystal bowl sits on the center of the table as Anxo and I stand on opposite sides with our side profiles facing the audience.
The only question lingering in the air and sticking to my doubts is if the Fates find me worthy. Because if they don’t, this would be so fucking embarrassing. I haven’t been around for long, but that doesn’t mean anyone is more worthy of being the next War than I am.
Anxo gestures for my hand, and I prepare for when he slashes my palm open like they used to, but to my surprise, he only nicks my index finger before guiding it directly on top of the War family ring that’s proudly sitting in the center of the bowl.
A single drop of blood falls from my finger and directly on top of the ring, and before my eyes, the ring absorbs it completely.
The ruby smoke inside the crystal ring comes to life, glimmering like a fiery blast of unstoppable fire. The scarlet completely takes over the white crystal of the ring before Anxo wipes the dagger with a neatly placed napkin and asks for my hand again.
Carefully—trying his best not to dig any deeper than necessary, Anxo cuts a line on the index finger of my right hand before turning my palm and doing the same. The cut looks like a blood ring on my finger.
I don’t remember it happening this way. This part of the process was much bloodier for the generation before us. A few murmuring voices complain about the process lacking the usual brutality, and it solidifies my thoughts that this is yet another thing Anxo changed for the better.
At first, I didn’t understand why people around me had a habit of following Anxo so mindlessly, but over time, I’ve noticed why.
The man doesn’t have a single malicious bone in his body as long as you don’t hurt the people he protects. For fucks sake, the man refused to wear his crown today because he wanted me to be the center of attention. That says a lot about the kind of man he is.
Anxo backs up before asking me to slide the ring on, knowing they’d get the shock of their life if anyone other than the destined successor touched it right now.
Here’s goes everything.
Once I nestle the ring on my finger without getting electrified,thank Fates, Anxo finally demands my oath. “Harvey Adler, son of Henry and Stella Adler, now mate to Grace Adler, do you solemnly swear to remain loyal to the Tetrad kingdom and govern all beings justly? To be a faithful soldier to The sisters of Fate and act as a shield against harm to your fellow Horsemen?”
“I do.”
What was a little loose around my finger, the ring warms up until the crisscross veins holding the crystal move to fit me snuggly. The ruby gleams brightly as if agreeing with my oath.The crystal returns to its usual shine with red smoke floating inside—accepting me as its next owner.
The pain that came next was not something I could prepare for. I stumble from the sudden gut-wrenching ache, but Anxo is immediately on my side and bracing my shoulders. He keeps me upright instead of letting me fall in front of the world, withering in pain.
When I look up, the pride on his face is unmistakable as his eyes trace my neck and arms. The pain slowly subsides to a gentle tingle, and I straighten my back with newfound strength.
It’s done.The Fates marked me.
Every single tattoo on my body burned off, and instead, the ancient markings of my destiny covered me. Red delicate swirls and cursive writings tell a different story than my tattoos.
Though the scripts are in Latin and only a few alive know how to read them, I knew what every word and shape on my body represented. This is my pain, sufferings, strengths and history, making way for my destiny.
“It’s my absolute honor to introduce Harvey Alder, The Horseman of WAR!”
Loud cheers fill the room, and the glass ceiling above us lights up with countless firecrackers going off at once. For the next hour, I greet people and accept thousands of good luck and whatnot.
I’m ready to take Grace to bed, knowing she is tired and sleepy after the day, but the way her eyes linger on the dance floor longingly, I figure one dance can’t hurt.
“Dance with me,my queen?”
“With pleasure, my Horseman.”
On the dance floor, I snicker when I turn to see Nevaeh standing on Anxo’s shoes because she can’t dance for shit. The other day, Anxo cleared his entire day when Nevaeh told him she was nervous about the formal dance routine. Their day endedwith Nevaeh almost bursting into tears and him panicking when this idea struck him.
And now Nevaeh is standing on Anxo’s expensive shoes as he moves them around in limited moves.
Does he complain? Why would he, given their intimate position?
Grace is wrapped around me as I sway us to a soft melody, smiling at each other and stealing kisses. The sound of my best friend laughing freely after a decade of nothing but pain and tears hits me somewhere deep within.
