Torrent of Tears (Scourge Survivor Series Book 3)(72)

“Exactly. And since it’s after midnight, it is my birthday. This Eligible is ready to get hitched.”

The fire let off a crack as if in agreement and once the pillows were cleared from the floor, the priest positioned us in the center of the open space in front of the hearth.

From his satchel, he retrieved a feathered fan and a smudge wand. He held the tip of the bundled wand against the embers of the fire until it started to smoke and the scent of white sage drifted in the air. Walking a counter-clockwise circle around us, he swept the feathers through the air as if metaphysically cleansing the space.

“Face each other and join hands. Clear your minds of conflict. Troubles of the day have no place here. For two souls to stand the trials of time as one, you must unite as one in a place that is not a place, in a time that has no time.”

I exhaled and shook out my hands before accepting Rowan’s. A million thoughts fired in my head, made me second guess, but when I looked up and met Rowan’s gaze, the chaos stopped. His grip was ready and steady. Solid. The room around us faded away as our connection took hold.

Priest Rowan completed the first circuit and continued. “Tap into the Sacred around you. Feel the Divinity of the space. The power of the Veil, the god and the goddess. Focus on the energy arcing between you, within you.”

The third time around, he set the feathers on the carpet to my left, the smoldering wand on the hearth, and took a vase of flowers from the mantle. He set the bouquet on the ground to my right and the water-filled vase behind me.

When he rounded back to the fire he faced the flames. “Castian, god of gods, join us. We ask you guard and protect the joining of these two souls. Fire is passion, heat, anger and transformation. It consumes the old, making room for new growth in a relationship. Let it be so.”

He moved a quarter of the circle and stood before the vase. “Water is the mother of us all. It nurtures us and cleanses our souls of inevitable slights and misunderstanding through meditation, introspection and dreams. Let it be so.”

He continued around to stand before the flowers. “Shalana, goddess of earth and woodlands, bless this union of your creatures. Earth is the foundation of life. It gives love built together grounding, wisdom, and prosperity. Let it be so.”

At his forth stop, he gestured to the feathers. “Air fills our lungs when we live life and tightens in our chest in warning. It is the element of thought and intelligence. In a marriage, it brings creativity, invention, and inspiration. Let it be so.”

Stepping to our side, he smiled at his godson. “Rowan, Noble of the Fifth House, before the god and the goddess, speak only truth. Is this union a true and earnest desire?”

“It is,” he said, his smile radiant.

“Then swear to the powers of the Veil that you will honor Alexannia Grace, Princess of Attalos until your dying breath.”

“I do so swear.”

Priest Rowan nodded and turned to me. “Alexannia Grace, Princess of Attalos—”

“Hells yes. I do so swear.” I glanced up at the heavens. “You hear that, Castian? And if your meddling nieces get any ideas about screwing this up for me, I’ll be pay each of them a visit. I do so swear that too.”

Rowan chuckled and patted the priest’s shoulder, who was looking a little lost. He recovered and brought three candles out of his bag. “The traditional binding was done by blood but that ceremony transformed into the joining of light—”

“I vote for blood,” I said, drawing the blade hidden in the train of my skirt. My cheeks warmed as the men blinked at me. “What? I’m a traditional girl. No pain, no gain, right?”

Rowan snorted holding out his palm. “Right. Why light a wussy candle? We’ll do things the warrior way.”

The priest accepted the weapon from my hand and scored each of our palms. When the line of blood rose from the wound, we clamped our hands together.

“This joining represents the union of two. From this point on, your lives, passions, and futures are one.”

The fire whooshed in a sudden flare and it was done.

Married . . . ‘till death do us part.





CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE


We fell asleep entwined together. After a few, sensual hours of consummating, we sank into the comfort of a perfect moment. No nightmares beckoned. No nocturnal visits from Tham. No invasion of the bitch Queen.

The night remained ours and ours alone.

In the dim light of pre-dawn, I rolled over and found Rowan’s body in the sheets. He was warm and willing, hardening almost instantly to my touch. A deep inhale raised his broad, landscaped chest as I crawled across him and tugged the sheet lower.

“What are you up to, Trouble?” Rowan asked, his voice graveled and tired.

“Mischief,” I said, biting my bottom lip and eyeing the beautiful plains and ridges of his naked body. “You just lie back and relax. I’ll take care of everything.”

A throaty chuckle escaped his chest as I continued my descent. While my fingers explored, I circled his nipple with my tongue, then nipped my way down his pec and over his tight abs. He groaned when I got to his navel, his hips undulating toward me, his erection pulsing for attention. A crystal tear appeared at the tip. Gods, I could taste him already. With a slow, firm hand I stroked him once from crest to base and took him into my mouth.

He gasped, his body tensing like he’d been electrocuted. He was hot. He was huge. And he was mine.