by Meg Anne
Helena winced at the reminder. Anduin and his Storm Forged had been the first to arrive. She’d barely closed the door behind the Stormbringer when Reyna and the Night Stalkers began to knock. To say their initial meeting had been uneasy was an understatement. The two leaders had taken one look at each other standing in the Holbrooke’s hallway and any trace of warmth they’d had when greeting Helena drained away. Their distrust was palpable. Even Kragen’s ever-present grin vanished when he noticed Reyna’s hand move to the dagger sheathed at her hip.
To be fair, the move had not been entirely uncalled for. One of Anduin’s party had made a snide comment about how it was a surprise to see that the Night Stalkers were let out of their cages during the day. Helena’s own hand had itched to slap the self-satisfied smile off the man’s face while around him others shuffled uncomfortably. If not for Timmins stepping in, Helena wasn’t sure they would have avoided the two groups coming to blows.
Helena let her eyes find Reyna in the crowd, noting the stiff way she was perched on her seat. She sighed. It seemed that not much had changed in the last four days.
Following her gaze, Von’s lips twitched up in the ghost of a smile. “Lucky for us, Reyna chose to wear a dress without weapon sheathes.”
Helena fought the urge to laugh. “If you believe that then you aren’t half the master strategist you think you are.”
“Alright, fine. At least the Storm Forged are seated well away from the Night Stalkers.”
“That much is true. It’s almost like someone had the foresight to do that on purpose.”
“Who can we thank for that?”
Helena bit back a grin that would have seemed entirely out of place to those not participating in the current conversation—namely everyone else. “I’m not sure, but when you find him, can you give him a big kiss from me?”
“Hey now,” Von said, his eyes catching and holding hers from where he stood, just to the left of the pavilion, “those kisses belong to me.” The iridescent rings around his pupils seemed to glow in what was left of the sunlight.
Seeing the physical evidence of their connection made her heart swell with primal satisfaction. It wasn’t just her kisses that belonged to him. It was her very essence. They were soul-bound, tied together in a way that only death could ever rip apart.
Helena winked at him. “You can collect them later.”
“Count on it.”
Returning to their initial conversation, Helena said, “I can’t believe I thought getting the Forsaken to agree to join us would be the hard part. I didn’t even stop to consider how we were going to convince everyone to work together.”
“Hopefully tonight’s party will be the first step in bridging that gap.”
“From your lips to the Mother’s ears…”
“From my lips to—”
“Shhh!” Helena cut him off, already feeling the telling heat of a blush rising to her cheeks. Now was definitely not the time to think about that. Not with so many eyes on her.
Guests slowly began to take their seats, their mingled voices swelling like a wave about to crash. Helena stood beneath the pavilion, smiling in greeting as familiar and unfamiliar faces alike caught her eye.
Von and Nial’s parents were seated in the first row with Margo already dabbing at her eyes. Helena could feel Von’s mental eye-roll at the sight, which only made her smile grow. Just beside the couple, filling out the row, were the rest of the Circle. Despite being impeccably dressed and on their best behavior, her men looked entirely out of place amid the other guests. It wasn’t just the sheer size of them, although Kragen and Ronan were clearly blocking the view of everyone sitting behind them. More than one guest had sat down only to immediately begin craning their neck around the towering wall of pure muscle in an attempt to get a better view. Not one of them had been successful. Finally, they’d simply given up entirely and left the seats directly behind her Sword and Shield empty.
No, it was not their size. It was less obvious and more intangible than that, like an aura of violence that was never quite abated even during times of peace. There was just something about them, especially when all together, that made it impossible to forget who they were and what they were capable of. Not that Helena ever worried, they were hers after all, but given the sidelong glances thrown their way, others were certainly aware of the not-so-subtle threat. Smart of them to remain on guard, really. Even now.
Kragen caught her looking at him and gave her a wide grin, his dark eyes crinkling with his amusement. He seemed to know exactly what she was thinking and reveled in the suspicious stares. Upon further inspection, it appeared that all of her Circle did. They were proud of the fact that they made others nervous. That was why, even though they were not doing anything to provoke or encourage the stares, they were doing absolutely nothing to mitigate them either. Not even Timmins, who was usually too well-behaved to give in to such a blatant display of male ego.
Helena snickered. Timmins thought he had them all fooled, but these past couple of days he’d been running around in a near panic when he could not find the sacred text he’d brought from Tigaera. It contained the ceremonial words required to bind two souls during a formal mating ceremony within its ancient pages. He’d finally snapped when Helena had shrugged and said she’d wing it.
“One does not ‘wing’ the Mother’s sacred words!”
“Maybe you don’t…”
He scowled at her. “Helena, this is the most hallowed of ceremonies. We need that book.”
“Timmins, calm down. You’re looking apoplectic.”
He huffed and snapped his lips closed.
Helena placed a hand on his shoulder. “Timmins,” she started in her most soothing voice, “I’ve been improvising for the last year and the Mother hasn’t struck me down yet. Tomorrow will be no different. In the end, they are just words. It is the intention of the two being bound that matters.”
Timmins looked no more convinced, but the fight left him. “If you say so, Kiri.”
“I do.”
Timmins let out a long-suffering sigh. “Better you than me.”
Helena punched him lightly on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit.”
He scowled and rubbed his shoulder. “You spend entirely too much time in the company of your Mate and Shield.”
Helena was smiling with the memory of her Advisor. Few, if any, saw him in those rare moments of uncertainty. Helena secretly cherished them. Knowing that not even he had the answer or solution to every situation made her feel infinitely better about the fact that neither did she. Perfection was an impossible task, even for the Mother’s Vessel.
Ronan was the personification of male disinterest. His arms were crossed and he was leaning back in his chair with his long legs sprawled out before him. Helena didn’t buy it for a second, but she was likely the only one. If it wasn’t for their connection, she too would be unaware of the undercurrent of tension simmering beneath that aloof countenance.
Sensing her eyes on him, he shifted his gaze up from his leather boots toward her. Helena raised a brow in silent question. Ronan’s lips lifted in the ghost of a smile, understanding that she was repeating her offer from earlier, and he discretely shifted his chin in the barest of shakes. No.
With a small nod of understanding, Helena turned her focus at last to Joquil. Her Master had returned to his long-drawn-out silences since arriving in Daejara, but something had changed since revealing his secret. While quiet, he did not keep to the sidelines, as if ready to flee at a moment’s notice. There was a new determination that glimmered in his amber eyes. He’s no longer afraid of being cast aside, Helena realized. He finally felt accepted. Seeing the almost easy way he interacted with Reyna’s people, Helena thought that being amongst his countrymen had something to do with that as well.
Helena made a mental note to speak with Reyna about the ways of the Night Stalkers. Perhaps there were some traditions she could bring back to Tigaera that would help her Master feel more at ho
me.
The subtle strains of the music shifted, letting the guests know that the ceremony was about to begin. Helena pulled her wandering thoughts back, refocusing on the task that lay before her. By the smug cast of Timmins smile, Helena was certain he was mocking her. She could almost hear his taunting, “Not so sure about winging it now are you?” She barely restrained herself from sticking her tongue out at him.
The music continued to build as the guests of honor took their respective places. Margo’s happy sniffling could just be heard over the lilting melody. In deference to the Great Mother, and as a symbol that they had been blessed, the couple wore her color. Nial looked devastatingly handsome in his fitted suit of pale purple as he stood beside his brother at the bottom of the pavilion. Helena could not recall a time she’d seen the younger Holbrooke look quite so blissfully happy.
Toward the back of the crowd, Serena stood with her arms woven through each of her parents’. The long length of her lilac dress rippled in the soft breeze, causing it to flutter behind her like a banner. Her head was tilted down as her father whispered something into her ear. From the quick grin and shake of Serena’s head, Helena thought she knew what he had asked her.
As Serena’s violet eyes lifted back up they met and held her mate’s. She did not look away, did not so much as blink, as the trio made their way down the aisle. Neither did Nial. In that moment, Helena wasn’t sure if it was Serena’s graceful steps or the force of Nial’s will that carried her down the aisle. With his back to her, Helena could not see his face, but there was no disputing that he was impatient for her to reach him. Nial could not stand still. He kept shifting his weight, like he was about to step forward and then had to fight against the urge to lift his foot. A small, private smile played about Serena’s lips. Maybe she could also sense his desire to rush toward her. Or maybe it was just the knowing smile always shared between two lovers.
The music reached its crescendo just as Serena and her parents arrived at the base of the pavilion. A hush settled over the crowd as Serena’s father lifted her hand from his arm and placed it in Nial’s outstretched palm. The two stood there, gazing at each other, utterly oblivious to everything else around them. Helena waited as long as she could before softly clearing her throat to get their attention.
Nial and Serena wore matching blushes as they spun toward her.
“Sorry,” Serena mouthed, while the guests chuckled.
“I’m not,” Nial added, loud enough for the guests to hear. Their laughter turned to approving hoots and hollers.
“Perhaps we should get started before our two lovebirds sneak away.” The cheering continued for a few moments longer before finally settling down.
“Nial, Serena,” Helena began, looking at each of them as she said their names, “we are gathered here today under the ever-watchful eye of the Mother so that you may publicly declare what your souls already recognize. Today, you will take the vows that will bind your souls together.”
At that, Nial looked down at Serena with a look so full of love and devotion, Helena felt tears prick her eyes. Feeling the tide of emotion rise within her, Von ran a phantom hand along the length of her back, infusing the caress with his strength. She shot him a grateful look and continued.
“From the time we are children, each of us learn that somewhere in this world the other half of our soul is waiting for us to find it. It does not take us much longer to realize how rare a gift it is to actually do so. When any of the Chosen find their true mate, it is a cause for all of us to celebrate, which is why we gather to bear witness to such a joyful occasion.”
Helena paused to address Nial and Serena. “Did you two prepare your own vows?”
“We did,” Nial affirmed as Serena nodded beside him.
Addressing the crowd again, Helena raised her voice. “Now they shall share the words in their hearts.”
Nial took each of Serena’s hands in his. “Serena, the first time I laid eyes on you I knew. It felt like all of the air left my lungs, and there was a moment when I forgot how to breathe because I was so lost in you. I do not love you just because you are strong, or beautiful, or that you know how to set me in my place, even though you are all those things. You are my equal. The part of me that had been missing my whole life even though I never realized how empty I had been until you were there to fill the void. I was told many times that I was not a whole man because I could not walk. But I can say with complete sincerity that I was not a whole man, because I had not yet found you.”
A lone tear caught the sun as it shimmered against Serena’s lashes before sliding down her cheek. Nial paused to brush it away.
“Serena, loving you has made me a better man. I do not know if I will ever be worthy of the gift you are to me, but I shall spend whatever time the Mother grants us endeavoring to be.”
Serena’s breath caught on a sob, and her lower lip trembled as Nial’s words washed over her. “You are,” she whispered to him, before swallowing back her emotions. Nial’s thumbs brushed the back of her hands as she composed herself.
“Nial, it is no secret that I have been twice blessed by the Mother. I never thought to ask her for my mate, because I had been loved so completely that I never had a reason to want for more.”
Ronan sat straighter in his chair, his red braid and blue eyes shining bright in the afternoon sun.
“At first, I fought my feelings for you, even as I sought every opportunity to spend more time with you. I was terrified of what it said about me that I had already known love, and still I could feel the depth of emotion that I did for a man I had known for only a handful of days. It wasn’t long before I realized that what is between us is not something as simple as love. It is completion.”
Nial’s eyes darkened, his own breath catching.
“The Mother loves to test us. She gave me her greatest gift, but it was up to me to recognize it and to accept it. It was the only way to truly earn her gift, to earn you.” Serena’s voice had gone husky with the depth of her emotions. “And so, I had to walk away from the life I had built in order to run toward one I never even knew I wanted. I do not say this to suggest that loving you is a burden, only to say that I would sacrifice anything to be with you. Whatever the price, I will pay it. My place, my future, my life is with you. For as many days as the Mother gives us, I am yours.”
Nial’s hands moved to cup her cheeks as he brought his lips down against hers. There were a few heartfelt sighs as members of the audience secretly wished to experience that kind of love, even as others snickered and whistled suggestively.
“Pssst,” Helena stage-whispered. “We’re not quite done here.”
The couple pulled apart with a chuckle and turned toward her once more.
“I have no desire to draw this out longer than necessary.”
“Thank the Mother,” Nial fervently swore.
The crowd laughed appreciatively while Helena shook her head with mock disapproval. Once everyone had settled, Helena continued, “Since you are of the Mother, and it is her grace that brought you together, we celebrate being her Chosen with the offering of a gift.” There was an air of hushed anticipation as the crowd refocused on the couple, eager to see what the mating gifts would be.
This was always the most anticipated part of any Chosen mating ceremony. It was, in fact, the single most defining moment. It had seemed silly to Helena as a child that giving someone a present held so much more importance than declaring your love and acceptance of them. She had finally begun to understand the importance of the act once her mother explained it to her, but it wasn’t until she actually received Von’s gift that she truly understood it.
The traditional gift giving was similar to what happened during the Kiri’s search for her Mate, at least in terms of the meaning behind the act. For a Kiri, tradition mandated that each of her suitors present a gift as part of their declaration of intent, and she took it to show that she was recognizing their suit. For the rest of the Chosen, gifts were exchanged to
symbolize the actual moment when two mates fully accepted the bond, and each other.
Using their power, a combination potentially as singular as a fingerprint, the gifts were unique to the individuals being joined. They would create the most meaningful, and usually spectacular, present that they were able. Something that highlighted their individuality, as well as the person they were offering it to. In a mating ceremony, that exchange of such a personal and unique gift was symbolic of the sharing of one’s self. No two gifts would, or in fact could, ever be the same.
The only difference in Helena’s case was that, as Kiri, she was not required to create or provide a gift. As the Mother’s hand-selected representative, she was the gift. Or that was what tradition said anyway. Now that she was reflecting on it, Helena was a bit dismayed to realize that she had never taken the time to make a mating gift for Von. Knowing what the magnolia had come to mean to her, that she refused to travel without it no matter where they were going, Helena made a silent pledge to remedy the situation as soon as possible. It was the least she could do for the man she loved.
Helena looked over the couple, toward her Mate. He was already looking at her, his eyes warm as he too remembered that moment on the dais. It was the first time she’d publicly declared that he was hers. Something that had taken all of five minutes for her to do after meeting him, although in truth, she had known the first time those gray eyes bore into hers.
His smile was soft and gently mocking as he said along their bond, “If I would have actually thought I had a chance with you, I would have tried a little harder to give you something special.”
“I wouldn’t change a thing. It’s my most precious possession… well, after you.”
She saw laughter sparkling in his eyes. “Helena, it’s just a flower. Hardly anything to write home about.”
“It’s not just a flower,” she insisted, offended at the implication. “It proved that even when you thought it was just for show, you took the time to ensure that your gift would be something meaningful to me in particular. For a mercenary, it was an especially tender gift. It alluded to your true nature, even as you tried so hard to hide it, proved you were thoughtful and kind, that you could be gentle. When I saw that pristine white bloom cradled in your scarred hand, I saw the hands that would cradle and protect me. It will never just be a flower, Von. It was,” she paused to correct herself, “it is a promise. A promise about the kind of Mate you will be and the sort of life we will have together.”
