Hekate's grasp on my calves tightens as I unleash my fury, ramming my fists into his broad back, his shoulder. I yank at his hair, screaming with every ounce of rage within me.
"I hate you! I'll kill you if you don't let me go! I'll burn you alive!" My words spill out, a desperate attempt to get to him. But it seems to only excite him further, to revel in this twisted dance of our emotions.
Blood rushes to my head, and I squeeze my eyes shut as a wave of nausea crashes over me. Upside-down, my gaze scans the grand hall, straining to take in the surroundings. Six entry points, three of which are sealed shut.
The remaining three are at opposite ends of the hall. Attempting to make a run for it once Hekate releases me doesn't seem like a bright plan. He would catch up to me before I make it across.
As he carries me past one of the pillars, my gaze drifts to Darian. Unconscious, his head rests in Maya's lap. She cries, tenderly caressing his cheeks, whispering words that escape both his and my hearing. Tears prick at my eyes at the sight of them. It's not jealousy that consumes me but a crushing mix of grief and guilt.
None of this would have happened if I just stayed away from this place.
Ginevra's wails reach my ears, grating against my senses. Though the sound is utterly unbearable, I can only imagine the turmoil she must be experiencing. Damn, if I had spent years envisioning being bound to my soulmate, only to have him walk away from me at the altar, blood is gonna spill.
Hekate halts and my rump hits the ground as he dumps me roughly on my ass. I glare daggers at him, but his eyes aren't on me.
Following his gaze, my eyes lock onto Priestess Atlas, who seems to be running toward the nearest exit. Hekate leans back gracefully, folding his muscular arms as he watches her with wicked amusement.
"Priestess," he says with deceptive lightness, a warning lacing his tone, causing her to halt midway. "Cross that threshold, and I will hunt you down, strip the flesh from your bones. You do not need to be intact to conduct the ceremony."
The Priestess turns, face white as sheet, and proceeds back in our direction, head bowed as though she is trying to hide her face from him.
Goosebumps ripple across my skin, panic tightening its grip on me. I take one silent step back, then another, and another.
"I strongly suggest you not do that, princess," Hekate says, crouching slowly, the Staff of Power poised as he hands it to the trembling priestess.
"I do not consent to this." My voice comes out tiny, shaky and squeaky, but the hall is silent as a graveyard and it comes back to me in echoes.
"In my era, women had little say in such matters."
"Well, this is not your era--"
He turns to me sharply, his dark eyes narrowing. "Silence. Should you run, I will catch you. I will bind your hands and feet, and you will spend the remainder of tonight confined. In here. In our bedchamber. Do not test me."
He inclines his head in Darian and Maya's direction, his words laced with a chilling threat. "If you so much as resist this, I will hurt them in ways that they will never recover from."
My entire being trembles, tears welling up in my eyes. "Like you did Orion?" I choke out, my voice quivering with a mix of anger and sorrow.
His gaze flickers with surprise, but he averts his eyes from me without uttering another word. Bastard.
"Your Majesty," a blonde man in his forties steps forward, his features twisted with anger, interrupting the madness unfolding. "What is the meaning of this?"
"Father," Ginevra cries, rushing down from the altar and hurtling toward him. The crowd watches in silence, their gazes filled with fear and uncertainty, bearing witness to the unfolding chaos.
"You and your son proposed this union as a benefit to us all, and now you bring shame upon my daughter," he snarls, baring his teeth at King Fenrir, his eyes burning with fury.
Hekate chuckles, the sound dripping with pure malevolence and unhinged delight. His eyes find mine, and he extends a hand, beckoning for me to take it.
When I hesitate, he seizes my hand regardless, pulling me toward him, his strong arm enveloping my waist in an unyielding hold that makes it clear that escape is futile. "I apologize on my 'father's' behalf for failing to mention that I have found my Erasthai."
Ginevra's father spins around, his gaze filled with disdain as it lands on me. "A mere pup? We will never serve a wolf as our queen. As a member of the council, I reject this union. My daughter will be your wife and crown princess. Like we decided."
The fact that no one else seems to notice the switch bewilders me. That Ginevra's father can still look Hekate in the eye and express his refusal so strongly shows that he's either stupid or clueless.
Like Ginevra and the rest of the hall.
King Fenrir says nothing, though his fingers are wrapped tightly around the seat of his throne. He is trying to look calm, but there is barely leashed fury in his gaze as he regards us. Queen Zephyr's hand is on his lap, caressing softly to soothe him. Her worried gaze dives back and forth from Hekate to Gin and the male with the torn limb.
Her lips draw into a thin line and when her gaze lands on me, she looks away swiftly and I can't tell if it is guilt or shame in her yes.
And it hurts, because that could only mean one thing. She knows everything.
Undisturbed by the display, Hekate nods to the priestess, signaling to proceed with the ceremony. The priestess, her voice trembling, addresses the crowd. "As..." She stutters on her words. "The Prince has his true mate and wishes to--"
Hekate growls impatiently, cutting her off. "Enough with the formalities. Get on with it."
The room is enveloped in a heavy silence, broken only by Ginevra's distant murmurs and wails. The crowd watches on, caught between fascination and trepidation, unable to intervene as the drama unfolds.
Fear etches across the priestess's face, and she hesitates before continuing. "Kneel, both of you."
Hekate raises an eyebrow, his impatience evident. The priestess breathes sharply, her voice quivering. "It is vital to seek the Goddess's blessing..."
In a menacing stride, Hekate takes a step toward her, his canines glinting in the dim light. Without thinking, I grab hold of his upper arm, halting his advance. Hekate stiffens and looks down at me with wide eyes. There's that vulnerability in them that makes me want to caress his cheek again for a moment.
Like such tenderness is foreign to him, and I despise the way it stirs something within me—a desire to touch him, to understand him.
My hands drops. "No more, please," I implore, my voice barely a whisper. "Don't hurt anyone anymore."
He studies me for a lingering moment, his teeth suddenly flashing in a wicked smile. "I rather enjoy you like this. Begging."
I divert my gaze from him, refusing to dignify his words with a response.
Instead, I turn my attention to the priestess, her hand outstretched, offering a dagger. Her eyes avoid mine, unable to meet the weight of my emotions. "It is time for the blood bonding rite. You go first, child."
My trembling fingers accept the dagger, the weight of the crowd's gaze bearing down on me. I cannot seem to think of an after for this moment. What this means in my life, being Rune's mate.
I have fantasized about him for years, but I had never really let myself consider what it might actually mean to be his mate.
And now that I do, it is scary.
Wincing as the blade bites into my palm, I watch as blood wells up from the deep cut.
Hekate snatches the blade swiftly before mine can heal, and he cuts his flesh as well, before entwining his cold fingers with mine.
We gasp as our hands join, and my back arches as an odd feeling encompasses me. It filling me up with emotions. I cry and laugh at the same time as ecstasy fills me up, melding with a yawning pit of emptiness that flows from Hekate. A void in his heart that I have been made to fill.
And if I had any doubt before that I was his true mate, it has been shattered.
And when I feel the soft glow of the Goddess's light upon my skin, my eyes open. The moon has risen to the sky again, and the clouds have parted once more.
For Rune and I, the Goddess has given us her light, approving our union.
The crowd begins to whisper curiously, and it grows louder, a far cry from the silence that had struck the hall several minutes ago.
I look left to find Hekate already watching me, gaze filled with intensity and longing. My heart is racing wildly with excitement and trepidation. It only gets worse when his gaze flicks to my lips.
My tongue darts out involuntarily, wetting them, and he growls, snatching me up close and his kiss is mind-shattering.
"You must exchange the rings and vows before the marking--"
But I doubt Hekate is a man who believes in such sentiments like exchanging rings and speaking vows.
He kisses me like I am the only thing significant in his world. His loves me with his lips and his tongue, showing me what his words cannot. There is kindness in his touch now, nothing of the brutal male who had all but dismembered a man minutes ago. He is tender. His tongue is in my mouth, very nearly quenching the thirst and need I have for him.
Very nearly.
Lust devours me and my back arches. A plea leaves my lips, and it might have been a cry. Or a scream.
I can't say. My mind has been burned to ashes, like my entire being. Heat follows, and nothing in the world can prepare me for it as it consumes me violently, causing me to growl and fist his hair with hands I hadn't realized moved.
His lips leave mine and I protest, needing more. The crowd around us fades. My world has turned black, and my ears are filled with my thrumming heartbeat. Hekate is my life. My world. I can't breathe without him. Or think without him.
It doesn't matter that he is stealing from me. My senses. My soul. My heart. I want him to take it all.
Vaguely, I register him ripping off the band aid on my neck. I tilt my head for more access, pulling his hair as I murmur words I will never be proud of against his ear.
He laughs. He calls me Red. He tells me he has my heart. I do not attest to it.
He tells me he will mark me, body and soul. I beg him to.
As his teeth pierce my tender, unhealed flesh, an agonizing pleasure courses through my veins, causing my knees to buckle beneath me. Fire ignites within my blood, consuming me whole, and a desperate moan escapes my lips, a primal cry of surrender.
I cling to him, my grasp desperate and unyielding, because if I don't, I know I will fall. My legs, once strong and capable, have become wobbly, unable to bear the weight of my desire. Every limb falters and fails as he indulges in his feast, his tongue tracing a sinful path along my skin, igniting sensations that threaten to unravel my very being.
I feel it then. A faint thud in my chest where Sloan stirs. The bond. It pulses with each stroke of his tongue as he retracts his canines from my neck. It solidifies, intertwining our fates, growing stronger with every passing second.
The raw, dark power coursing through me is both exhilarating and terrifying. I can sense Hekate's presence within me. He is in my head, my mind, my thoughts and desires entwined with his.
Darkness flows through my mental walls, and for a moment, I am overwhelmed by it. It feels like my head is being pushed under a sea of black. I can't think. Or breathe.
Hekate pulls back abruptly, and the feeling ceases at once. My eyes flutters open and the last thing I see before I pass out is my blood on Hekate's lips.