Page 53

I spend a good deal of the day pacing his chambers, the dāemon ratcheting up to an almost unbearable level. The sun has already fallen when I hear the jangle of the doorknob. I can’t help myself from running in from the bedroom and scanning him for injuries. Once I’ve assured myself there are none, I expel a breath and slump down on the sofa.

A sheen of sweat has accumulated across my brow. My head is pounding from how tightly my jaws have been clenched. I rub at my temples. I was so worked up the dāemon expelled, creating a notable fissure on the bottom of his wall. I moved one of the chests over to cover it. My eyes wander over there now. I force them away, not wanting to draw attention to it.

I’d spent a good deal of time studying my naked body in the mirror, an act that was difficult enough for me as it is, let alone with the knowledge that I would soon be displayed for everyone to see.

His brows knit as he examines me. The storm brewing inside of me likely blatant. The clock says ten. Two more hours to go. “I would like a drink,” I declare.

He surveys me silently and nods. “Let’s go.”

“We’re only going to make an appearance. In and out,” he assures me on our way to the kitchens.

“Sitri,” I groan. “I don’t even like for people to see my face.”

“I know, but you have. It’s not so different than that, really.”

“What even is the point of that? Sky-clad? ” I spit in disgust.

“Many of our rituals are sky-clad. It’s tradition. Puts everyone on equal standing and magnifies our connection with nature.”

“Witches,” I scoff. I glance over at him to see him fighting back a smile. I halt in my path. “You think this is funny!”

“No, I don’t.” He wipes at his grin, smoothing the corners of his mouth. “Only a little because you are so uptight,” he admits.

“I am not!” He gives me a pointed look. “Just because I don’t want to go naked in front of a bunch of strangers that would prefer to see me dead doesn’t mean—it just doesn’t bother you because you’re—you’re—“ My eyes flick down his large form and his already raised brows inch even higher up his forehead.

“Insanely good-looking?”

“Because you’re arrogant!” I snarl. “And you’re not a nought sent here to be a punishment.” That last word comes out little more than a whisper as my throat tightens. I turn on my heel and storm down the hall.

“Pet,” he calls after me, jogging to catch up. “Pandora.” I ignore him, and he sweeps in front of me. “I’m sorry. You know I wouldn’t make you go to this if I didn’t have to.”

Those words are only salt to my wound. Of course, he wouldn’t. He’d rather not be seen with me. “Very aware, Sitri.”

His eyes flare in surprise, which only annoys me further. “It’s not like you’ll know any of these people.”

“I know you!” I choke out.

He smirks down at me. “Yes, you know me. But it’s just me,” he says with a shrug.

“It’s not just you . It is you, and I don’t want you… “

“Seeing you?”

“Exactly!”

He blinks, gaze searching as he looks me up and down. His brows go up, crumple, and rise again as he squints. “Don’t you?”

“No! I do not!”

He clutches at the back of his neck and frowns at the wall. “Well, I mean, I could not look at you…but that’d hardly be fair,” he says begrudgingly.

“What!” I squawk.

“If everyone else got to see you before I--” Each grumbled word grows quieter and less confident until he breaks off completely.

My temper surges. “Oh, you think you deserve to see me?”

He lifts a palm, shoulders shrinking. “More than they do.”

“You’re unbelievable.” He’s wise enough not to stop me this time as I step around him. Wise enough not to speak at all as he mirrors me in sulking into his wine glass.

I’ve downed three glasses before I finally work up the nerve to ask, “What exactly does this ritual entail?”

When he speaks, his words are void of emotion. “The Priestess will offer us henbane. You’ll take it and throw it in the fire for your offering. That’s it.”

“We both have to?” He nods. “And, what’s the point of burning henbane?”

He sucks in a deep breath, shifting in his stool. “Burning henbane on the eve of Beltane is a ceremony our ancestors have been performing for hundreds of years. The henbane is meant to call you to the person that’s best suited to produce you the most powerful heirs.”

My eyes widen. “The magic calls you to someone, and then you…” I reiterate, making sure I have the right of it.

“That’s when you and I will leave.”

“Is this like an…orgy?” I whisper. Vera’s grimace gives me all the confirmation I need. It actually couldn’t get worse—my face flames. I turn to Sitri, who looks slightly amused again, though he’s taking great lengths to hide it. “I’m surprised you even know what it is.”

“Yeah, well, unfortunately, not everything they say about you all behind the Wall is false it appears. And what if the henbane calls you to…with someone? What will I do then?”

He scoffs softly. “It won’t. Henbane is only a mild aphrodisiac at best.”

“Aphrodisiac?” I ask in mortification.

“It’s a—“

“I know what it is,” I interject, recognizing the word from when I inquired into the effects of maca on his shelf.

“When I say mild, I mean mild. It doesn’t do much, or if it does, it’s extremely rare. It’s just an excuse for Magi to go out and… fuck.”

I narrow my eyes. “Have you been to this before?”

He holds up a finger. “Once.”

I look over at Vera. “Have you been?”

“No, like I said…that’s not really my style.”

“You’re single,” I say obtusely.

She giggles. “Despite the meaning behind the ritual, most people don’t go with the intention of reproducing or finding a partner. They go for one thing.”

“But Morin wants you to choose a second wife at this Rite?”

He snorts. “Morin doesn’t give a shit if I choose a second wife. She’s just playing politics. This marriage has created controversy, and she needs it to look like she’s giving me an opportunity to choose a second wife. I need to look like I’m…participating,” he equivocates. “It’s just another opportunity for her to humiliate me.”

Humiliating for him because I’ll be with him. I turn back to staring at the floor. I’m not sure how many glasses of wine I get down before Sitri cuts me off. “You have to be able to walk, Pandora.”

Thankfully, I’ve had plenty enough that the dāemon is fully sedated under the haze. We’re quiet as he leads me under the canopy of trees. We’re joined shortly by other Magi venturing in the same direction, laughing and talking casually amongst themselves. Unlike us, they’ve already removed their clothes in preparation. My heart picks up pace in my chest.

Not only because I’ll soon be naked among them but after the events of our wedding party and the Magi that attempted to lodge a knife in my chest…I’m downright paranoid that, at any moment, someone is going to jump out and attack.

Keeping close to Sitri’s side, I startle every time a Magi comes too close, swiveling my head this way and that as I try to keep track of them, getting an eyeful of parts of people I’ve never been privy to.

Soon, I’ll be even more exposed to them…and exposed to Sitri too. Sweat accumulates across my palms, a flush spreading over my skin. Even with the haze of alcohol, my stomach twists with the warring emotions.

Sitri stops suddenly and tugs me to the side. “Come here,” he demands, leading me away from the trail of Magi. He pulls me further into the Woods until the Magi’s voices grow faint in the distance. He finally slows when it’s just the two of us in the moonlit clearing. He leans down and starts unlacing his boots and I follow suit, tugging at my laces with shaking fingers and trying without success to swallow the tangle of emotions clawing up my throat.

He gets his boots off before me, unclasps his cloak, and tosses it on the ground before working at the buttons of his shirt. “I wanted to make you a deal. Since you claim you don’t want me to look at you.” He says the words with such an air of arrogance my eyes roll to the back of my head. Like there’s no one that wouldn’t want to be seen by him.

“I don’t.”

“I won’t look then.”

“Right,” I huff.

“I swear. I’ll only look at your very lovely face,” he says, eyes unwavering as if to prove his point as he tugs away his shirt and tosses it on top of his cloak. My gaze rakes down his chest, the faint definition of the muscles in his abdomen, to where his pants hang low on his hips over prominent hip bones. “Unless—“ He holds up a single finger, drawing my eyes back to his very smug expression

“Unless?”

His mouth twists into a taunting grin. “You do.”

Oh.

That’s the game he’s playing. If I look at him then he gets to look at me. “Fine then,” I say crossing my arms. “I will definitely not be looking at your…” He shoves his trousers down and my eyes immediately dart down to that part of his braies. “At you,” I clarify, face flaming.

He tilts his head and raises his brows. “You sure about that?”

“Positive.”

“We’ll see,” he murmurs. He reaches down to peel his braies away, and I flip around before I get an eyeful. This is it. I want to go hide behind a tree. My pride keeps me put. I reach down and remove my dress and then my slip. Unraveling the wrapping from my breasts before lastly tugging away that last thin layer of fabric. Goosebumps sprout across my flesh as cold air brushes against my exposed skin.

My heart pumps a fiery rhythm, warming me despite the chilled air. I stand there stiffly, holding my clothes in a rumpled pile in front of my thighs, unable to bring myself to turn around and face him. I fight the urge to hide my breasts with my hands and consider brushing my hair forward to cover them. Should I or will it be too obvious what it is I’m doing? I remain frozen, squirming internally yet unable to move.

My embarrassment burns brightly, flushing my skin and making my stomach twist and flutter. But there’s something else too, that makes my blood feel hot and thick like honey sludging through my veins. Makes my thighs clench and my breasts, small as they are feel more weighted against my chest. I hear him near and shivers dance over my skin.