Page 17 of The Rivaled Crown (The Veiled Kingdom #3)

CHAPTER 17

DACRE

V erena slept in my arms, her breath steady against my skin, but I could not close my eyes.

The world outside this room wanted to tear her apart, and I would not let it.

I traced slow, absentminded circles on her back, my mind reeling with the weight of what was coming. The rebellion, the war, the inevitable bloodshed that loomed like a blade above our heads, her power. It all pressed against me.

But here, in this bed, with her wrapped around me, I could pretend, just for a moment, that none of it mattered.

Except it did.

And it always would.

Verena stirred, shifting closer to me, pressing her face against my chest as if she could sense the storm raging inside me.

I tightened my hold on her, clinging to her for as long as I was allowed.

She was mine, and no one, not the rebellion, not the king, not even fate, would take her from me.

She let out a soft sigh, her lips brushing against my skin. “You’re thinking too loud,” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep.

I exhaled sharply, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I’m sorry. Go back to sleep.” I traced my fingers over her face, pushing some hair off her cheeks.

She tilted her head back and blinked her eyes open until they met mine. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Everything.

The word was right there, lodged in my throat, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it. Instead, I reached for her hand, lacing my fingers with hers. “I need you to promise me something.”

Her brow furrowed. “Dacre…”

“Promise me,” I interrupted, my voice rough, desperate. “No matter what happens, you won’t hide any part of yourself from me, even if you fear it.”

Her lips parted, her expression softening, and she hesitated for a long moment. “I won’t.”

“Swear it,” I demanded, tightening my grip on her hand. “Swear that no matter what they say, no matter what anyone thinks, you won’t let it come between us.”

She inhaled sharply, and for a moment, I thought she might argue. But she pressed her palm flat against my chest, right over my heart. “I swear.”

Something inside me unraveled at her words, but it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

But I wanted to believe her.

I needed to.

She moved closer, her fingers pushing into my skin. “I trust you, Dacre.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it was enough to shatter me. “I trust you to not let me lose myself.”

No one had ever trusted me before. Not like this. Not in a way that felt sacred.

And I could feel it through our bond, the truth in her words, the way she breathed differently when she was with no one other than me. She had so much fear, but even the overwhelming feel of her worry couldn’t smother the feel of her want for me, her love.

“I want to marry you.” The words left my mouth before I could think, before I could stop them. But I didn’t regret them. Not for a second.

Verena’s breath caught, her body going still against mine. “What?”

I swallowed, my heart pounding as I lifted her hand and pressed my lips to her knuckles. “I want you, all of you, and I don’t want politics or war dictating what we are to each other. I want to choose this. Choose you.”

Her eyes searched mine, wide and unguarded, as if she was trying to decipher whether I meant it.

“I want you as my wife,” I murmured, my voice hoarse. “Not because it’s expected. Not because of the rebellion. But because I love you. Because we were bound before either of us even understood what it meant. We are bound by fate.”

A sharp breath rushed past her lips, and she sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest. “Do you know what you’re asking?”

I trailed my hand down her arm, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath my fingers. “Yes.”

“Dacre…” She bit her lip, her brows knitting together. “Marriage isn’t just a ceremony. It’s…”

“Sacred,” I finished for her. “And I am choosing you. Over everything.”

Tears lined her lashes, and for a moment, I thought she might refuse. Part of me thought that maybe she should have. The idea was mad, it was reckless, and it felt like the only thing that either of us could control.

Our fates had taken away our choices in almost every aspect of our lives, but not this. Not her.

“Yes.”

A shudder ran through me, my grip tightening around her. “Say it again.”

“Yes,” she repeated, her voice steadier this time. “I’ll marry you.”

For a long moment, I could only stare at her, my pulse roaring in my ears, my magic stirring beneath my skin as if it, too, had been waiting for this.

And then, suddenly, a memory surfaced, one I hadn’t thought of in years.

My mother’s voice, soft and sure, whispering in the dark.

“A true vow is not just words, my love. It is a tether, a bond as old as the land itself. To speak it with your soul is to be bound, not by laws or men, but by the gods themselves. That is the power of love, it does not bow to kings.”

She had told me that on the night my father had returned from a raid, bloodstained and weary, too hardened by war to remember the softness in my mother’s eyes.

“It is the only thing that is freely given, and when it is, Dacre, it is the most unbreakable thing in the world.”

My mother had loved my father, even when he was difficult to love, even when Wren and I questioned whether or not our father was worth what she was willing to give.

She loved my father, and she had given her love willingly.

I swallowed hard, my chest tightening with a sudden, aching realization.

These vows, this love, they were the one thing in my life I could freely give.

And it belonged to her.

I let out a breath and pulled her into me, my lips finding hers in a kiss that felt like a vow in itself.

A promise.

She melted into me, her hands tangling in my hair, her body pressing against mine, and gods, I wanted to lose myself in her all over again.

I pulled back just enough to meet her gaze. “We’ll need witnesses.”

“Wren and Kai,” she answered instantly.

The two people I trusted, that I loved. My family. Our family.

I pressed my forehead against hers. I breathed her in. I let my magic thrum through our bond until she was the only thing I could feel, until I knew that she could feel me. “We should do it before you can change your mind.”

Her lips twitched, and I felt her nose scrunch against mine. “I’m not changing my mind.”

Neither was I.

But I still climbed out of bed and pulled Verena to her feet. She laughed softly as I tossed her clothes to her and quickly pulled my pants up my legs.

“Get dressed.” I laughed as I pulled my shirt over my head before strapping on my leathers.

She did as I said before the two of us snuck out of my room.

We crept down the hall, the weight of what we were about to do settling between us like a secret only we could hold. Verena’s fingers curled around mine, her grip tight, her warmth grounding me in a way I hadn’t realized I needed.

I had never been this sure of anything in my life.

We stopped in front of Wren’s door, and I knocked, hard.

“One minute,” she called out, her voice rushed and slightly panicked. When she opened the door, she barely cracked it enough to let us see inside. “Is everything all right?”

“Yeah.” I nodded, Verena’s hand tightening in mine. “But we need you. Can you hurry and get dressed?”

“Yes, of course.” She shook her head as if she were trying to shake away the fog of sleep. “I just need a minute.”

“We’re going to go get Kai.”

“Wait.” She said it so quickly that my gaze shot up to meet hers. “I’ll get him.” She quickly recovered. “Then I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Verena and I made our way down the hall as Wren closed her door, and Verena chuckled.

“What?” I asked. My heart was racing; it had been ever since she had opened her eyes this morning.

“You do realize that Kai is in your sister’s room right now, right?” She glanced behind us, and I stopped in my tracks to do the same.

“What?” I asked again, but Verena just grinned mischievously at me before she pulled me to the end of the hall.

“Leave it,” she murmured as we reached the first step. “I could feel their urge to rip each other’s clothes off the first time I saw them together.”

“What?” I looked behind me at my sister’s closed door, and I tried to imagine what Verena was saying about my sister and my best friend. “That’s my sister.”

“So?” She pulled me down a couple more steps. “You’re her brother.”

We reached the bottom of the stairs and made our way toward the door leading outside. I opened the door as I looked up the stairs one more time, but Verena pulled me into her as the cool air hit my face.

“Leave them alone,” she whispered against my mouth. “They are about to witness our wedding, and they don’t even know it.”

“Okay, okay.” I nodded and wrapped my arms around her.

We stayed that way, holding on to one another, and Kai and my sister finally came out the door. I eyed them both warily, but Verena quickly slapped my chest.

Wren and Kai both looked disheveled and bleary-eyed, but Wren smiled at us as they joined us outside.“What’s going on?”

“We need witnesses,” Verena said, her voice steadier than I expected. “Will you be that for us?”

“Witnesses?” Kai’s eyes finally met mine. “For what, exactly?”

I swallowed hard, keeping my eyes on my best friend. “For our vows.”

Something flickered across his face, surprise, then understanding. He stepped forward, standing a little taller as his gaze met mine.

“It would be an honor.”

Something in my chest tightened. I nodded once, unable to say more.

Wren glanced between us, her brows drawing together as if she were trying to decipher something unspoken between Verena and me. Then, she exhaled and clapped her hands together.

“All right,” she said, voice lighter, though something unreadable lingered in her expression. “Where are we doing this?”

“I know just the place,” I murmured, glancing toward the cavernous path beyond the training grounds. “Not far from here.”

Verena’s fingers tightened in mine, and I turned my hand over in hers, letting my thumb brush over her knuckles.

I looked at Kai. “Do you still remember the tunnels that lead to the ruins?”

His brows lifted slightly. “You want to do this there?”

“Yes.”

Wren frowned. “What ruins?

Kai shifted his weight, exchanging a glance with me before he turned to her. “The old temples of the first kings.”

Recognition flickered across her face, followed by something heavier.

“It will be just us,” I continued, my voice softer. “No one goes there. It will just be you and me.”

“And us,” Wren interjected, and my chest swelled as Verena laughed.

“Yes,” I admitted, nodding to my sister. “And them.”

Verena’s smile reached her eyes, and I swore I could have stared at it for the rest of my life.

“Okay,” she whispered. “Then lead us to the ruins.”

We moved quickly through the streets. The city was still quiet, most of the rebellion still locked in sleep. No one noticed us as we slipped past the warrior barracks, through the training hall, and toward the tunnels that would take us deeper underground.

Verena was tucked into my side, a smile still ghosting her lips, and I couldn’t stop glancing down at her. She was going to be my wife.

We turned a sharp corner, I barely stopped in time before we crashed into someone standing in the hall.

My grandmother.

She stood before us, her silver eyes piercing in the dim light, as she glanced around at the four of us. It was as if she had been waiting for us, as if she had known.

Verena shifted uncomfortably beside me, and I tightened my hold on her, refusing to let go. My grandmother’s gaze flickered over our joined hands before shifting to Wren and Kai behind us.

Then, without hesitation, she asked, “Do you know the weight of what you are about to do?”

The question settled over us like a heavy fog, pressing into my skin, into my bones.

I swallowed. “How…”

“Yes.” Verena’s answer came at the same time as mine, and my grandmother didn’t answer me. She was only looking at her.

Something flickered in my grandmother’s expression. Not hesitation, not disapproval. Something quieter. Something knowing.

She exhaled through her nose, slow and measured. “Then you will need someone to guide the binding.”

Verena’s brow furrowed. “Guide?”

My grandmother nodded, stepping forward, her skirt rustling against the stone floor. “I was bound to my mate long before this war began. I know what must be done.”

She rolled up her sleeve, revealing the faintest trace of an old mark, a circular brand of fading gold on the inside of her wrist, the ink long faded but still visible.

Verena inhaled sharply, her free hand pressing against her own wrist as if she could already feel it forming.

I had never seen a brand like that before, had never even seen my grandmother’s, but mates were rare.

“You are the heir to both Marmoris and Veyrith. This is more than just a vow.” She met Verena’s eyes, and her expression softened, just barely. “This is a soul-binding, the kind that has not been done in generations.”

My pulse thundered, but I held Verena’s gaze.

“We still want this,” I said firmly.

Verena swallowed hard. “We do.”

My grandmother nodded once, slowly, then turned on her heel, gesturing toward the tunnels.

“Then we must go. The temple is waiting.”

The tunnels twisted beneath the city, cutting deeper into the rock, spiraling into the dark. The farther we walked, the cooler the air became, the scent of damp earth thickening with every step. It should have felt suffocating, the weight of the stone pressing in around us.

But it didn’t. It felt open. Vast. Like something was waiting.

The flickering torch in Kai’s hand barely cut through the thick shadows, but it was enough to reveal the widening of the tunnel, the faintest whisper of water running in the distance.

Verena moved closer to me, her hand clutching mine. She felt it too.

Magic.

Not mine. Not hers. But something ancient, something woven into the very walls around us. Something I had never felt before when Kai and I had come here as kids.

The tunnel gave way to a cavern, the air cool against my skin, the silence absolute, and as we stepped beyond the last stretch of stone, the ruins came into view.

A large temple stood at the center of the cavern, cradled by the underground river, the remnants of its three towering spires reaching toward the jagged ceiling above, stretching for the light that barely reached this deep beneath the city.

The stone was worn, cracked with time, but even in its decay, it was beautiful. The carvings along the pillars were still somewhat visible, intricate lines of text and imagery wrapping around them like vines, whispering of the past.

Verena sucked in a breath beside me, and I turned to her, watching as her gaze swept over the temple, her expression full of awe.

She knew this place, or at least, part of her did.

My grandmother stepped forward, her hands wrapped in the fabric of her skirt, lifting it up as she walked.

“This was once a place of worship,” she said, her voice reverberating around the cave. “Before Marmoris, before the rebellion, before the world we know now, this temple was built for something else entirely.”

Verena inhaled sharply, and I felt the faintest tremor in her hand.

Wren shifted beside her, her head craned back as she looked around. “I’ve never even heard of this place.”

“This place has long since been forgotten,” my grandmother murmured.

A chill swept down my spine. “Wren, you’ve been here before.”

Her gaze snapped to me. “What?”

“Our mother used to bring us here,” I said, my voice low and thick with emotion. The memories came flooding back, threatening to overwhelm me. “Whenever my father was too hard on me, when he was too busy training me to be a warrior rather than his son, Mom would grab Wren and me by the hand, and we would sneak down these tunnels.”

Her eyes narrowed, and I could practically see her searching her mind for the memory.

“You were young.” I took another step forward, moving us closer to the temple. “And after Mom died, Kai and I used to come here when we’d get too stuck in our own heads.”

Kai stepped forward, running a hand over one of the stone pillars, his brow furrowed as he looked at my grandmother. “How do you know of the temple?”

My grandmother’s gaze didn’t waver. “This temple is from the first kings. All five kingdoms had one.” She moved to the bottom step. “These temples were where we honored the magic, where we honored our land.”

“I think I read about this.” Verena was staring at the temple, taking it in as if she had seen a ghost. “My mother brought…” She hesitated, swallowing hard. “I found a book in my room about Veyrith.”

The weight of her words settled over us, heavier than the cavern ceiling above.

For the first time since we’d stepped into the cavern, something flickered in my grandmother’s eyes. Something old. Something lost.

“She came here once,” she admitted. “When she was first crowned queen, after your father had ripped her away from our home.”

Verena’s fingers tightened in mine, but she said nothing.

My grandmother lifted her chin, her silver eyes scanning the temple as though she could see something the rest of us couldn’t.

“She was not alone.”

Verena’s breath hitched beside me. “What?”

My grandmother turned toward her, the weight of something unspoken pressing into the space between them. “Your mother,” she murmured, “was not the only daughter of Veyrith to step foot in this temple after it had been abandoned.”

A shiver ran down my spine as my grandmother looked at me, and I knew the answer before she spoke.

“My mother,” I rasped.

The words felt heavy in my throat, like I had just unearthed a secret buried deep beneath my ribs.

The air inside the cavern shifted, and Verena’s free hand came up to her chest, her fingertips pressing lightly over her heart as if she could feel it, the weight of the moment pressing into her bones the same way it was pressing into mine.

“They were here together,” my grandmother murmured.

Verena turned back toward the temple, staring up at the worn stone, the cracked spires reaching for the ceiling like they had been frozen mid-prayer.

It felt like the world had stopped turning.

The Queen of Marmoris.

The wife of the rebellion leader.

Two women, from opposite sides of history, from opposite worlds, standing in this very spot, looking up at this very temple.

“I don’t understand,” Verena whispered, her voice barely more than a breath.

“Both your mothers came from Veyrith just as I did.” She glanced back and forth between us. “And neither of them ever forgot what they lost, what they stood to lose.”

She turned to Verena, and something aching was hiding in the depth of her eyes, something sad.

“This was where your mothers knelt side by side,” she whispered, “whispering to gods who had long since turned their backs. This was where they begged for peace, where they mourned the war they could not stop.”

Verena’s nails dug into my palm.

This wasn’t just a forgotten temple. Not just a place of worship.

And now, all these years later, we stood where they had stood, fighting a war they had prayed to stop.

A hush fell over us. The weight of the past pressed into the stone beneath our feet, and I could feel it, something shifting in the air, something awakening.

Verena’s breathing shallowed beside me, and I turned my head just in time to see her lips part, her eyes darting across the temple walls. Her fingers twitched in mine.

And then, she pulled me forward.

Her steps were slow, deliberate, as if something unseen was guiding her. She lifted a hand, tracing the worn carvings at the temple as we moved up the steps. The stone was smoothed only by centuries of time. The carvings had been worn down, nearly illegible.

We moved farther into the temple, and I brushed my own fingers along the edges of an inscription. The moment I touched it, magic shuddered through my veins.

“Dacre.” Verena’s voice trembled.

Verena stilled beside me, her other hand wrapping around my forearm to steady herself as she spoke the words aloud.

“When shadow swallows the golden throne, and rivers run dry where magic has flown.”

The cavern pulsed with power.

My stomach clenched as the words etched themselves into my mind, my soul, my bond with her.

“The cursed shall rise with fate-bound hands, a tethered soul to shifting sands.”

She turned to me, her eyes wide, glassy with understanding.

This temple was not just sacred. It was part of the prophecy, and it had been waiting for us.

A silence settled over us, heavy, breathless, absolute.

The air inside the cavern felt different now, thick with something I couldn’t name. I felt her magic shift first, a pulse like an exhale, rippling through the space between us. Then, mine responded.

A slow, deliberate pull, an undeniable force drawing us closer.

Her eyes were wide, her chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. “This was never just a temple,” she whispered.

I swallowed against the tightness in my throat, the words carved into stone still burning behind my eyes.

She turned to my grandmother. “You knew.”

My grandmother watched us carefully, her silver eyes calculating, measuring, deciding. “I knew the prophecy,” she admitted. “I knew this temple had been forgotten to war and greed, but I did not know how it would respond to you.”

I clenched my jaw, but I couldn’t deny it. I could feel it responding. It was as if the very walls of the temple recognized us, recognized her.

A shudder rippled down my spine as our bond tightened, not just a thread between us, but something weaving us together, pulling, binding.

“Dacre,” Verena whispered my name, her voice laced with something between fear and awe.

I lifted her hand to my lips, brushing my lips along her knuckles. I didn’t know what this meant. I didn’t care if fate had written this moment long before we were even born.

This wasn’t just fate’s decision. It was ours.

I turned back to my grandmother and steadied my voice. “Tell us what to do.”

The temple breathed around us, the silence stretching, expectant.

My grandmother lifted her chin, her silver eyes flicking between us. “Stand before the altar.”

Verena and I stepped forward, our footsteps echoing against the worn stone. The closer we got, the heavier the air became.

Kai and Wren took their places behind us, quiet but unwavering. Our witnesses.

My grandmother moved closer, standing before us now, her presence as steady as the stone beneath our feet. “This ceremony is not of Marmoris. Nor of Veyrith. It predates both.” She exhaled slowly. “It is a binding older than kingdoms, older than kings.”

Verena swallowed hard, her fingers trembling in mine.

“Are you ready?” my grandmother asked softly.

Verena didn’t hesitate. “Yes,” she whispered.

Her voice sent a shudder down my spine, and I squeezed her hand. “Yes.”

My grandmother nodded once, her shoulders straightening. “Then kneel.”

I dropped to my knees without hesitation, the stone cold against my skin. Verena followed, our hands still clasped between us.

“The vows you speak here will not only bind your fates,” my grandmother continued. “They will bind your magic. Your souls. Once spoken, they cannot be undone.”

Verena’s breath hitched, but she didn’t look away from me. She wasn’t afraid of this.

She was afraid of herself.

I reached up, brushing my fingers against her cheek, anchoring her back to me. “We are already bound,” I murmured.

Her lips parted, and I could feel it, the way the magic curled around us.

My grandmother stepped forward, lifting a small dagger from the folds of her cloak. The blade was old but well cared for, its edge honed to a deadly sharpness, the hilt wrapped in worn leather. The faintest trace of script was etched into the steel, almost imperceptible beneath the glow of the altar.

“A blade from Veyrith,” she murmured, her voice steady. “Forged in a time before kings, before war.”

She turned it in her palm, studying the edge as if remembering something long forgotten. Then, she met Verena’s gaze.

“You must offer freely,” she said softly. “Not because of the prophecy. Not because of fate. But because you choose this.”

Verena’s breath caught in her throat, her lips trembling, but slowly, she reached out.

“I choose this,” she whispered.

Verena’s gaze flicked to mine. I could see the storm in her eyes, the thousand emotions fighting for space, but there was no hesitation.

She handed me the blade, the metal warm against my skin, before she extended her hand, palm up. Offering.

My throat tightened, but I pressed the blade against the center of her palm, just deep enough to draw blood. She didn’t flinch.

I held the blade out to her, and she slid the hilt into her hand before doing the same to me.

My hand shook as I reached out for her, and our blood met when our hands clasped between us, mingling, merging.

The air around us shuddered.

“The vows,” my grandmother instructed, and I swallowed hard. I already knew the vows. We both did.

And I didn’t waver. “A kingdom torn in blood.”

Verena’s lips parted, and I saw it, the memory flickering behind her eyes. We had spoken these words before. In that inn. In what felt like another life.

She had been taken from me, but she had fought, we both had. And now, fate had led us back here.

“To ruin and ash,” she whispered, her voice shaking.

I let the next words roll off my tongue, anchoring us in something deeper than fate.

“But with my soul, I thee worship.”

Magic pulsed through the ground beneath us. A tremor. A promise.

Verena’s lips trembled, and her hand tightened in mine, sealing us in blood.

“But with my soul, I thee worship,” she echoed.

The temple roared to life. The worn symbols beneath our knees flared with golden light. A low pulse bled through the cracks, illuminating the letters carved into the stone.

I gasped as the magic surged, wrapping around us like an unseen tether.

Verena shuddered. I could feel her magic twisting with mine, coiling, settling, weaving us together so tightly that we would never be undone.

My grandmother inhaled sharply, and I heard Wren curse under her breath.

Because as our blood mingled, as the magic recognized the vow we had just spoken, something burned against my skin.

I sucked in a breath as searing heat shot through my wrist. Verena cried out, her fingers tightening around mine. A mark was branding itself into our flesh.

“True mates are rare,” my grandmother murmured, almost to herself. Her fingers ghosted just above Verena’s skin, as if afraid to touch the mark now seared into her flesh. A circular brand of gold ink, the same one forming on my own wrist. “Many claim the bond, but few ever bear the mark.

Verena was shaking, her breath unsteady, her eyes wide as they flickered between her wrist and mine

“What does it mean?” she whispered. But even as the question passed her lips, I could feel it settle inside her, her love, her devotion, her desperation for me.

My grandmother exhaled slowly, her trembling hand moving back. “It means there is no undoing this. Not force, not time, not war, not even death, will break what has been bound here tonight.”

She lifted her gaze to mine, somethingalmost reverentin her eyes. The words settled between us, sinking into my bones, weaving themselves into something deeper than I could understand.

There is no undoing this. The thought should have frightened me. Instead, I felt whole.

Verena was staring at her wrist, her fingers hovering just above the mark as if she was afraid to touch it, and her magic flickered in the air between us, restless, shifting, as if it, too, was struggling to understand what had just happened.

I reached for her, curling my fingers around hers, feeling the heat of the brand still settling into our skin.

Her eyes snapped to mine, wide and searching.

I lifted our joined hands, brushing my lips against her wrist, against the mark now etched into her skin.

She sucked in a sharp breath, and I could feel the rapid beat of her pulse, the slight tremor in her fingers.

“Are you okay?” I murmured.

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she turned my wrist over in her grasp, running her fingers along the edges of the ink as if she could trace the weight of fate itself.

Then, finally, she whispered, “You are mine.”

A sharp ache bloomed in my chest.

I tilted her chin up, forcing her to see me, to see the truth in my eyes. “And you are mine.”

Her lips parted, her gaze flickering over my face, and I could feel it, the shift. Something inside both of us had changed, settled, like a key turning in a lock that had been waiting to open for a long, long time.