I nearly came undone.
“Wings high, mi Phantimèssa.” I lifted a calloused hand to her velvet-soft cheek, curling a wing around her waist. “Ready to become my bride?”
Chapter 13
Tassarion
A delightful oceanbreeze warmed the peak of the twinight as I held onto Nahomie, ready for the Wingbinding to begin. A magical, lavender light illuminated the surface of the Ouanaviel Sea from beneath, giving it an intense, luminescent glow despite the dark waters.
“I hate to admit it, but we need a Farasee if we are to legally bond, mi Roi.”
Nahomie shuddered at the word Farasee. I felt a twinge in my chest at her reaction. The empyrean priests had hurt my Phantimèssa. A wrong Iwouldmake right, no matter how long it took.
I squeezed her gently, tugging her closer.
“To the Six Hèls with the Farasees. We have someone better.” I grinned. “Friere Zuriathelle. He’s an ordinary priest who is well-versed in the Creed and has the credentials to perform wingbindings. The only thing is... well. He’s not an angel.”
Nahomie raised a high eyebrow. Her amber eyes looked around, sifting the night for the Friere I was referring to. Her mouth fell open in a smallowhen she saw a Nanmiess floating forward.
“I thought only angels...” She stuttered on her words, unable to process what she was seeing. “Since when do souls perform wingbindings? This is lawful?”
“It absolutely is.” I jutted out my chin in pride. “Mortevain isn’t as prejudiced as your beloved Edenael. You lot only allow angels to use their gifts. On our island, we believe all races should be able to use what the Infinite blessed them with. Including the Nanmiess and Esprit.”
Nahomie said nothing, her eyes fixated on the priest. The amber dimmed to burnished bronze. She didn’t trust the Nanmiess, but she also didn’t argue. I gave her time to acclimate to his presence. His ghost-like robes fluttered in the breeze beneath his hip-length, ghoulish hair.
The Friere looked back at Nahomie. The two seemed locked in a battle of wills. Ocean water washed over our feet repeatedly until Nahomie finally scrunched her nose, acquiescing to the Nanmiess. I bit my lip to keep from smiling. It was an insignificant gesture of defeat. One that gave me pleasure in triumph. She was bull-headed and defiant, but at least in this moment, she would yield.
“Shall we begin?” Zuriathelle asked.
“Please,” Nahomie grumbled. “I’m ready for this infernal gown to stop pressing against my ribs.”
I snorted as she shuffled in place.
She shifted on her feet, scrunching her nose.
“I mean, honestly, Tassarion. Of all the gowns in all of Sorellien, you chose this? What’s a female to do in this hèls-infested piece of fabric? This gown was a choice.” Her eyes flashed as she glared at me. “A diabolical one.”
She kept murmuring beneath her breath while shimmying around, trying to get comfortable. My lips twitched. I struggled to rein in my laughter. She kept muttering beneath her breathuntil Zuriathelle cleared his throat. The soul coughed twice, the only hint that he was also trying not to explode from laughter.
“And another thing,” she lifted her pointer finger, shaking her hair. “Just how serious an arrangement is this? I mean, this is for contractual purposes, right? None of this is actually real. The bond makes us wingmates by Creed, but it doesn’t mean we become lovers... right?”
Something feral and possessive stirred deep within me at her words. She was right, of course. This was an arrangement. She would bond to me. I would give her protection from the Empyrean. Yet... this didn’t feel like it would be that simple. This didn’t seem at all like a transaction.
“What makes you think our arrangement won’t be real, Phantimèssa?”
Her eyes blazed with passion; her chin lifted in defiance.
Stars. She was an unbreakable mountain, this one.
“Don’t be delusional. This is merely an exchange of sorts. But it isn’t for real.”
“On the contrary, Madame Nahomie,” Zuriathelle butted in. “Once you’re bonded to the king, this will be a legitimate binding for you. Should either of you break this bond, the other will die. If death claims you, the other will die. Should one of you choose to enter the Ellelights before the end of the Age... you guessed it. The other will die.”
We both turned to Zuriathelle in shock. His luminescent eyes glowed eerily. A flash of midnight crossed his irises before becoming ivory again.
I’ll admit, I hadn’t thought through this plan that far. I knew the bond itself required us to shed blood so we could become one, and once it settled, I’d have access to Nahomie’s powers, which would allow me to break my curse.
All the other risks of a bond was not something that had ever crossed my mind.
