by L. J. Stock
I must have been well past halfway down when he finally noticed me. I felt my cheeks heat as his mouth opened and closed, and I couldn't help but duck my head and focus on my feet as I finished the last of my descent. It wasn't as if I couldn't feel his eyes on me. They burned and seared as they drank me in, and I felt my flush rise from the place he seemed so focused on. Only when I reached the bottom did I dare look up, and it was probably a good thing I did. A small and subtle shake of his head meant the look of adoration was replaced by one of annoyance.
“I'm not that late, am I?”
Lifting his head, Damon didn't respond. He simply held out his arm for me to take.
“Really? Tonight? What the hell have I done now?” I stepped away from him as though he was made of something dangerous and walked forward, turning to face him as my dress swished and danced around my ankles in response. He refused to look at me. Of all the days for him to shut me out, it had to be tonight. I was nervous enough without losing the only support I had. It was an asshole move, and I wasn’t sure how long I could hold my tongue before I felt compelled to tell him so.
I waited to the count of ten and nodded before turning and marching toward the ballroom at the other end of the Great Hall, my hands trembling in a mixture of anger and stark fear. Bastard.
“Fine. I'll just have Rasmus escort me. If you can't be civilized enough to have a conversation and tell me what the hell I did wrong…” I turned and glared at him. “Tonight? Really?”
Shaking my head, I marched away, fighting tears of anger and disappointment. My hands clawed around the material of the dress as I picked up my speed. I hadn't made it far when the Mac truck whisked me from my path and pushed me into one of the hidden tunnels behind a tapestry. Satisfaction and irritation warred inside me at the sudden assault. He couldn’t stand to see my back to him when I was pissed off, and as much as I loved being in the confines of this particular prison, Melody had just spent hours on my hair.
My back hit the wall, the cool stone scratching against my bare shoulders as the familiar outline of Damon's face was pushed close to mine. I could see the tension of anger in his jaw, the indecision and doubt of his reaction in dim light reflected in his eyes as his arms caged me in.
“Have you forgotten? I have somewhere to be tonight, Damon. I don’t have time for your petty games.”
“Do you really want to know what the matter is?” He growled, ducking so he could hold my eyes. He was so angry I could barely see his pupils in the dim glow of the lights beyond the tapestry.
“Of course I do, you stubborn ass. I wouldn't have asked if I didn't,” I ground out, putting my hands on his chest and pushing. It was like trying to move a brick wall. His muscles were locked in and rigid under my palms, and my harsh shove didn't so much as move him.
“The king asked me to do him a favor.”
“Oh, boo hoo. And that's my fault how?”
“He asked me to look into who you are in love with.”
My hands stilled on his chest, my heart pounding so hard it felt as though it was lodged in my throat. I'd never so much as hinted to the fact I was in love with Damon to his face. He knew I was attracted to him. He knew I wanted him, but love? I'd never had the gumption to do it, not to mention it seemed unfair considering we couldn't do anything about it.
The air between us changed as I met his eyes, and I felt my shoulders fall, unable to fight him anymore. His reaction was more than enough to tell me the feeling couldn't possibly be reciprocated. He was angry with me for compromising his job and position in the guard, all for something we’d established we could never have.
“What do you want me to say?” I asked, my voice hoarse as I swallowed back all of my emotions. “I had a weak moment with my father, but believe me, it won't happen again. Not now. Message received loud and clear. Now get the fuck off me.”
“Message?”
“Don't make me say it.”
Damon leaned in closer, his breath now bathing me, moving the thick curls of hair on my shoulders. Both of us seemed close to panting as we stared one another down.
“What. Message?”
“That you don't want me anymore, let alone love me,” I said, pushing hard enough to make him rock a little. I felt the tingle in my tear ducts that was a sign I was about to cry, and growled in frustration. I was never going to get through the night with these emotions lingering inside of me.
Damon laughed. Not the natural easy laugh I'd grown to know and love since he'd come back into my life. No, this one was bitter and filled with cynicism.
“You really must be insane. You're all I think about, Cass, from the moment I wake up to the moment I close my eyes. You haunt every one of my dreams, lingering there with that smile of yours until I wake up and start all over again. Every touch you give me stays on my flesh for days. Your voice is the only thing that anchors me in place and calls to me. You are every breath I take, every dream I’ve ever considered, and the only life I’ve ever wanted. I want you. By the Gods, you're all I want and I have never loved anything quite as much as I love you.”
Then his lips were against mine, soft, warm and urgent as they proceeded the pass of his tongue over my own lips, making me gasp in shock. His body was pressed flush against mine as I opened up, blossoming like a flower to the sun. Running my hands up his chest and around to his neck, I pulled him closer, needing more of him as my body bowed against his. Sliding his tongue against mine, he taunted me into a dance that I was more than willing to take with him.
I couldn't get close enough. I couldn't feel enough of him as his hand tangled in the hair at the nape of my neck and pulled my head back, opening me up to him. We stole the moment until it was just the two of us alone with the desperate need pooling in the deepest depths of my gut. Nothing else in the world existed, and I didn't want to be anywhere other than right where I was – in his arms as he consumed me whole.
It ended far too quickly as far as I was concerned. I was panting, my chest rising and falling as my hands moved to his jaw, cradling his face as we stared at one another. I was barely even aware of how violently I was shaking until a shiver ran down my spine in a silent promise. If I could have walked away with Damon right then and there, I knew I would have. I would have done anything he asked of me. I was captivated and completely at his mercy.
“I love you,” I whispered and took another breath. “I love you. I love you.”
Damon closed his eyes and leaned forward, his forehead meeting mine as our breathing slowed steadily from the frenetic pants they had been after the kiss. I watched him as best as I could with the angle I was at, and brushed my thumb over his cheek with reverence.
Calling every ounce of earnest and genuine emotion that I could, I said it one more time. “I love you, Damon.”
His warm hands fell to my shoulders for a brief moment before he swept me into his arms, pulling me against his chest and pressing me against him with the hand in the small of my back. I breathed him in and held him deep, taking in the feel of his uniform on my bare skin and the rich masculinity of his scent that had been my companion for so long. I memorized it and held it close to my heart because I knew it would be a defining moment for us both.
“I love you too, Cass, but–” I cut him off with my fingers on his lips. Pushing up on my toes, I met his eyes, my thumbs caressing his jaw slowly.
“No buts. Not tonight. Please. Let me carry this with me. Let me borrow the strength of it.”
He nodded once and pulled me against him, his arms folding around my body and holding me in place as though he would never let me go again.
Selfishly, I wished he wouldn't. Being in his arms felt like the only home I would ever need.
Formalities
I didn't know how long we stood in that corridor, holding onto one another in the dim light as though it was the only thing keeping us alive, and I didn't really care. I could have stood there all night and been happy and content with my lot in life. Everything about being in hi
s arms felt right, like I belonged there. I felt it with such conviction that I couldn't find it in myself to want to save anything but this moment between us.
It was a selfish thought, and I felt guilty that it passed through my mind at all, but there was no stopping it. I had found the one person I wanted to be with. I knew exactly how I felt, and I emphatically knew what I wanted, without a doubt in my mind. For those blissful minutes it was just Damon and I, and I was truly happy while it lasted.
“We have to get you to the ballroom,” Damon whispered as he eventually stepped back, his warm hands closing around my upper arms and rubbing as though he knew the loss of his body heat made me cold. I nodded, though there was no commitment in the action. I’d have done anything he asked of me while the heat from his body still lingered against my skin. If he'd changed his mind and wanted to stay there in that dimly lit corridor, I would have nodded, too, just much more enthusiastically.
Moving farther away, he looked down at me and arranged my curls with a touch of his fingers, the back of his hand brushing my shoulder and sending a shiver down my spine. Pulling back the tapestry, and making sure the coast was clear, he gave me another sweeping look and smiled, offering his arm to me.
“You look stunning, Cass.”
“Thank you.”
The two of us stepped out into the Great Hall and rediscovered our course to the ballroom, where the stewards were ushering the last of the guests in as they saw us approaching. The palace looked so different when it was alive with excitement. The colors surrounding us popped with enthusiasm, and the lights seemed to burn a little brighter. It was like a gathering storm, the clouds lighting up with static before it was followed by a wave of sound. It was infectious and terrifying all at the same time.
I’d been fine when I was still lost in the moment with Damon. I could have carried the world on my shoulders without a thought. It was just unfortunate that with every step I was taking toward the ballroom and my future, I became more and more nervous. The weight of what I was about to do suddenly lingered over my head as my breathing became panicked and erratic, and my palms started to tingle with the threat of sweat.
When the herald started toward the door, Damon put a hand out and shook his head to hold him off for a moment. He knew I wasn't ready. Somehow, he’d realized that if the doors opened in that moment, I would bolt and run. I wanted to be strong enough to do this, but seeing everyone ushered in had finally made me realize that this was it. This was the moment where my life would change, and there was no going back from that. I would be tied to this world and its fate, and one day, I would be responsible for all these people and keeping them safe.
The thought of that much power made me nervous. The reality of the ceremony, and the knowledge that three or four steps would take me inside where my future would change indefinitely, only made my heart gallop. It was a lot of responsibility for one person to have, but I believed I was capable of succeeding. I knew I could do it because my father had, as his father before him. There had been centuries of ancestors that had ruled with kindness and justice.
“You were born to do this, Cass,” Damon whispered in my ear. “You will change this world for the better. I know it and I believe in you. Don’t let your fears limit you now. You made us believe in you. It’s time for you to have the same conviction.”
I hadn’t been aware I could love him more than I already did, but as I met his eyes and absorbed the strength he offered me, I knew I would never love anyone the way I loved him. Not in this earth-shattering, soul-deep kind of way. I would set the world on fire for him and never once regret my decision to do it.
With a nod of my head to the herald, the grand doors opened slowly before us, the slight squeak of the hinge that had been there during training now gone. It might as well have been there. Everyone in the room turned at the same time, their eyes all on me. The herald stepped forward in his rigid pose, his shoulders rising as he sucked in a breath to speak in that projected way of his. The gentle tug on my arm, however, was the signal from Damon that we were about to start moving.
Crap!
Taking my hand in his, he held it high in front of us as the herald called out our names to introduce us to the crowd. The eyes that had been on me to get the first glance now lowered, and heads bowed as the sea of bodies parted for us to pass. My stomach rolled with nerves as we started floating through the crowd of people, their quiet murmurs washing over me, but by some divine justice never sinking in.
I'd never been more terrified in my life. If it hadn't been for Damon being so close, his hand gripping mine with a gentle firmness, offering me his strength, I was certain I would have gone down. We'd barely made it to the raised platform where my father stood when Damon leaned in and whispered, “Breathe.”
I took in a deep breath and another, the weight in my chest lifting as Damon placed my hand in my father’s. It wasn’t the same, but it was another form of strength, and it helped. When I finally brought my glance to him, the resplendent smile that greeted me made my skin pebble. The pride that shone from the king – my father – was more than I knew what to do with.
“You look so beautiful, sweetheart,” he said quietly enough that only Damon and myself could hear him.
“Thank you,” I squeaked in response. I was hoping my voice would return for the speech I was supposed to give after my father’s, because this ridiculous bird sound was going to do nothing for me.
“Are you ready?” he asked, pride beaming from him.
My real answer was no, but that wasn't going to stop me. Not now. I was here, and in order for me to get through this, we had to start at some point – the sooner the better in my opinion. My attitude had shifted from I can’t do it to let’s get this over with.
Glancing at Damon, I smiled as he nodded in encouragement and exaggerated the lift of his lips into a smile. He was telling me to do the same.
Forcing my lips to curl, I glanced at the king and gave him a nod of agreement, and with one arm folded behind his back, and the other holding mine out in front of us, he turned to face the hushed crowd who was watching us with baited breath.
Standing beside the king, I took a deep breath and listened as he spoke about our history and the bloodline we'd both come from. He spoke well, his eloquence enviable, as I stood next to him wondering how I was going to get through all this. The direction of his tone changed, lulling me into a false sense of security, even when it came to reading the order of the traditions. There was no mention of the prophecy, but I'd known that. I'd been told that they were attempting to keep my fate as quiet as possible to give us all more time. That was fine by me. I was taking baby steps, which, as far as I was concerned, meant spreading the good news could wait. Speculation was much easier to deal with.
“As my daughter was born in the other world, the connection to ours is weak. For her to be fully recognized, she shall be reborn here, now, in front of all of you.”
My back straightened as those words sank in. I'd been informed of what would be asked of me. Once I was connected to this world through some chanting of the nobles and recognized as one of them, I would drink of the water, eat of the earth, take a breath of the air and be bathed by my father’s fire. I'd been told that my child would not have to go through any of this because she would be born here. Her ties would be immediate.
One of the stewards approached with a velvet cushion and bowed deeply in front of me before setting it at my feet and stepping back and out of the way.
My hand, still in my father’s, steadied me as I kneeled on the cushion with as much grace as I could, my free hand gathering my skirts until they flowed around me. A low drone of sound started from my father and slowly washed over the room, the voices all coming together until it was one sound, ebbing around me in waves. My body tensed, but the hand running through my hair eased me until my breaths came easily again.
Three of the staff lined up by my father, and he stopped chanting, but the others continued, the sound danci
ng around us and embracing me as I watched with wide eyes. My father took a chalice from the first steward.
He spoke in Latin and held the rim to my lips, and smiled, encouraging me.
“This is the water of our land. Do you accept it as part of yourself?”
“I do,” I whispered and took a mouthful of the water. It was fresh and cool, the slight hint of earthiness the only indication it had been taken from one of the deep springs I'd been told ran under the palace. I took a deep breath after I swallowed and waited for what came next.
My father smiled and spoke in Latin once more as he approached the next steward. He brought back a raw potato, only part of it peeled.
“This is the produce of our earth. Do you accept it as part of yourself?”
“I do.” I spoke with more conviction than I had the first time, my body feeling light but not entirely uncomfortable. Taking the potato, I bit into it, keeping my features neutral as I chewed and swallowed. It wasn't the nicest taste in the world, but it made this ceremony feel a little more official.
The king smiled and nodded at my acceptance, then stepping to the third steward, took a small plugged phial from the tray and spoke for a third time in Latin before approaching me.
“This is our air. Do you accept it as part of yourself?”
“I do.”
The small cork was pulled from the phial just inches from my face and I breathed it in deeply through my nose, holding it in my lungs before releasing it.
With the chanting and the last of the elements to come, my head was heady and filled with a fogginess I couldn't seem to displace. Wavering, I put my hand to the ground to steady myself, only to retract it quickly. Through the haze, it felt as though the stone and the earth below it was chanting with those in the room, subtle vibrations making their way through me until my body swayed in the rhythm of the chants.
