Page 135 of The Freedom You Seek
She almost ran into me when I halted us in front of the altar, and she couldn’t suppress a laugh. Her laughter warmed my soul whenever I heard it, but even that couldn’t dispel the anxiety gripping my heart. There was a very good chance Nayana would soon be extremely pissed at me.
The only consolation was that the very ceremony we were about to perform would bind us together in a way that prevented her from running away from me ever again. Of course, it wasn’t fair to keep crucial information from her when the consequences were as life-altering as they’d be, but I was convinced there was no other way. And how much significance would one more sin hold compared to all the others that had amassed on the grave of my soul?
“Do you remember the oath?” I asked her, and she nodded, her throat bobbing. It was a miracle both of us hadn’t broken down at the same time. Nayana was strong, I couldn’t deny that, even if she couldn’t see it herself.
“I do. I’ve learned the oath from the moment you gave me the parchment. Do you remember it as well?”
I shot her an ugly look, and she chuckled.
Our eyes never broke contact as I handed her the Dagger of Kalag. The ceremonial silver knife felt much warmer than a normal dagger would have, but that’s the magic of the gods for you.
She took it and sucked in air in a big gulp, steeling herself, while I reached for the Vessel of Immaru. It slightly hummed in my grip.
“Whenever you’re ready, Naya,” I said softly.
Her throat bobbed again, and for a moment, doubt entered her eyes—similar to the one in mine earlier—but it was chased away by an iron determination, and not even a sliver of reluctance remained.
She lifted the Dagger of Kalag and her palm, then her lyrical voice filled the crypt.
“May the Gods be our eternal witnesses that I, Nayana Garnet Ortha, who bears the predisposition of darkness, offer my Potential, my inner flame, and my strength to the male before me until the end of time itself. I accept his protection and willingly place my essence in his hands until divinity and earth and sky will cease to exist and all life with them. This decision is taken of my own volition, and I will seal this vow with my blood.”
Nayana held my gaze as she slid the Dagger of Kalag across her palm, opening a small incision. Holding the Vessel of Immaru toward her with both of my hands, I caught her blood without spilling a single drop.
A gentle breeze ruffled our hair, and this filled me with certainty that although this kind of ceremony hadn’t been performed in well over a hundred winters, it was still possible. The binding would work—at least for us. Divine magic hung heavy in the air, flowing around us, alerting us to the presence of the gods, and that both humbled and scared me shitless.
Gently, I took the Dagger of Kalag from Naya and softly placed the Vessel of Immaru in her delicate hands. The cut in her palm had already healed, I didn’t need to see it to know that.
I stayed silent for a moment, watching her, memorizing her smile, the trust in her eyes, the softness of the woman who believed I was a better male than I was.
It was time for my oath, even though it would change everything. The Rite of Binding didn’t accept deception, lies, or omissions, and I wished it would, as I etched her expression into my memory for all eternity.
“May the Gods be our eternal witnesses that I, Dionadair Dorchadas Coroin De’An Scriosta, Wielder of darkness, offer my protection and willingly accept to be the defender of this female before me as well as her essence and Potential until the worlds are no more. In exchange, her strength and inner flame shall be mine and mine alone—until the last star has burned out and every living thing, even the gods themselves, cease to exist. This decision is taken of my own volition, and I will seal this vow with my blood.”
I finished my oath and nervously glanced at Nayana. She wore an expression of confusion and awe, a strange mixture, and not for the first time since I’d met her, I wished to be able to read her thoughts.
The surrounding wind was picking up, and the Dagger of Kalag sliced effortlessly through the skin of my palm. The cut didn’t even sting, the mystical artifact passed through my flesh without any pain.
Nayana caught my blood, and a dark light glowed, rising from the Vessel of Immaru in thick waves of shadow as our blood mixed. Wisps of obsidian crept toward her and circled her neck, another part of the smoky fog spiraled up my left wrist. Neither of us shied away from the billowingshadows reaching for us, even as trepidation told me to recoil, to run.
In the end—when the onyx wisps finally reached me—the very condition of the gods’ divine generosity, which I’d dreaded all along, caught up with me, and my Glamour simply dropped.
Shadows rose from the Vessel of Immaru that I held in my hands. The silver material heated, releasing darkness in thick tendrils that crawled toward Dion and me, curling around us. I could sense the magic in the air, tugging, multiplying, warping. Binding.
For a moment, all I could see was this darkness, and it blinded me. I briefly wondered if this was a fire Rite, would I burn to a crisp? But I dropped that train of thought as fast as it came, concentrating on what was happening.
The wind billowed around me, playing with my curls, ruffling the gauzy fabric of my gown. After an eternity, my eyes adjusted to the unnatural darkness, and through the swirling shadows, my gaze connected with Dion’s—only his eyes had changed. Instead of the pale gray I wasso used to, they were glowing in a bright amethyst shade. The color was so striking, and I was absolutely sure I had never seen irises of such a hue before. What had happened?
I opened and closed my eyes rapidly, hoping to dispel the magical hallucinations I must be seeing in the aftermath of the binding. But when I scanned Dion’s gaze again, they remained bright, glowing purple.
I was so confused that I barely felt the shadows still wrapping gently around my neck, fusing with my skin. Instead, I took a step toward Dion to better examine what illusions my mind created upon seeing his eyes. Only then did it become obvious that this was far from the only feature that had changed about him.
When I’d been told about the ceremony, no one had ever mentioned changes in appearance, but looking at Dion, even a blind person could see that something was different. The remnants of shadowy darkness in the crypt gave way to light, and my vision was fully restored as my gaze fixed on the man I thought I knew.
Dion stood before me, his amethyst eyes roaming around, landing everywhere but on me. When he finally focused on me, his jaw locked.
His skin was radiant, lightly glowing like moonlight. His cheekbones were sharper, the shape of his eyes more prominent, and through his slightly opened lips, I caught a glimpse of his canines, which ended in delicate points. My attention shifted to his hair, which was still loose, but the usual black was so dark that it gave the impression it absorbed every bit of light hitting it. The strands cascaded down all the way to his waist, and it was the kind of hair anywoman would have murdered for. Closing my eyes for a moment, I concentrated on inhaling, then exhaling before repeating the process. My heart was working overtime, pumping too much blood into my brain until it felt like my head was simply going to explode.
As soon as my pulse calmed down—not completely, but at least I didn’t feel like passing out anymore—I opened my eyes again, and my gaze drifted toward Dion’s ears. Suspicion turned to denial as realization dawned on me, stealing my breath away once again. Those ears, elegantly shaped, were elongated and pointed at their tip. The conclusion was obvious, even to me, with my limited knowledge of what lay beyond my own world. “You are—” The truth got stuck in my throat, my mind a whirlwind of cacophonous voices that all were screaming at me, yelling how I could have been so blind.