Page 28 of Wild Flame (Wild Bond #2)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

T he next several days were filled with a swirl of activity and preparations for the Marking Ceremony. From what I had gleaned and what Zara had told me, it would resemble a Halmarish ceremony in some ways, but not in others. The ceremony was to take place inside The Sphere of Ashar, and I couldn’t wait to see it since it had been closed during the funeral rites, and I hadn’t had time to visit it since.

The massive glass dome had been built by King Aarav Kathar back when the palace was being constructed. It was made to protect the historic site where Queen Lethara’s three grandsons held the peace talks to end the war and split Palasia into three kingdoms. No dragons had been permitted at the site during the discussions and in honor of that, the rule was still in place today. No dragons were permitted at The Sphere. Thanks to this tradition, many of Zehvi’s formal political matters and events were still held in The Sphere today—like formal meetings of the Rajid and the Marking Ceremony of its monarch.

Once the ceremony was over, Malik and I would be presented to the people, and that would be followed by a night of celebration and revelry.

I had asked Zara at one point if the people were getting sick of all this constant celebrating—first the Rites, then the coronation, now the ceremony. She had just given me a confused look and said, “There is no such thing as too much celebrating.” I supposed I should have expected that response. The nightly banquets had not stopped after the funeral. They had continued right up to the coronation.

Malik had been busy as well, and I had hardly seen him, but he left the violet-orange flowers for me every morning—either a single bloom on my pillow or a fresh bouquet by my bedside.

The morning of the ceremony, Hilde barely spoke to me as I put on my bridal gown. She had been pestering me to wear a traditional Halmarish gown to the ceremony rather than a Zehvitian one.

“I plan to wear one for the Halmarish ceremony we will be having in a few weeks,” I had explained to her for the hundredth time. “This ceremony is sacred to Zehvitians. I am not simply a princess of Halmar any longer. I am now also Zehvi’s future queen. My clothing needs to reflect that.”

The gown I wore was actually similar to the blue and silver dress Malik had given me, but this time, it was scarlet and gold—two of the Kathar family colors. Perfect for today. What I loved most about it was that it didn’t clash with my reddish-brown hair—the bright shade actually complimented it. The trim and gold thread work designs were more elaborate, the skirt fuller while somehow still managing to feel airy and lightweight, and my arms were bare. Gold bangles adorned my wrists and ankles, and a gold-plated armband fashioned into a dragon wound its way around my upper arm. Woven into the braids of my hair were golden chains adorned with gleaming rubies that sparkled in the sunlight. Atop it all, I wore a small golden tiara from which a long matching veil covered my hair and fell to the center of my back.

Excitement mixed with a healthy dose of nerves had assailed me when I first took in my appearance. For one of the first times in my life, I actually felt beautiful. I couldn’t help but think of Malik’s reaction when he saw it, and the thought made my belly flip.

The Sphere of Ashar was located in a separate part of the palace that was open to the public. I was expected to be paraded through the halls and outside to the steps of the building on a cushioned litter. When I had initially heard this, I had baldly refused, until Zara had told me, “It is expected.” I had no choice but to climb in and recline upon the cushions waiting for me inside. The gauzy curtains adorning the four sides had been tied back. The Talonar walked beside the litter, fitted in black leather armor trimmed in gold metal. Despite the intimidating figures they presented, the people of Taveran still pressed close and fought to catch a glimpse of their future queen, cheering and waving. I waved back and tried to smile as much as my sudden nerves would allow.

Though Malik and Zara had told me most of what the ceremony entailed, I still worried I would say or do something wrong in front of thousands of people. However, I trusted that Malik wouldn’t let me make a fool of myself. Thinking of Malik also led me to thinking of what the rest of the night would bring. Particularly after the feasting and celebrations were over and my new husband and I returned to our rooms. After today, the excuse that we were not yet wed would no longer be true. Would anything more happen? Did I want it to?

Clutching my talisman to my writhing stomach, I fought to push those thoughts from my mind. I was grateful when the litter finally came to a halt, and I quickly stepped down. I found myself standing in the shadow of the massive stone structure above me. It was as large as an entire city square. I tilted my head back, taking in the glittering, jewel-like half sphere that made up its ceiling. It had to be several hundred feet high.

I waved to the cheering crowd once more before being escorted up the marble steps and inside. I had entered a foyer of sorts and walked—with my guards surrounding me—to where a pair of ornate entrance doors waited. I took a moment to catch my breath before the closed doors and before I realized Zara was there waiting for me. She hurried over to me, looking beautiful in a golden gown as she smiled wide and handed me a bouquet of red and yellow flowers. Her excitement was palpable as she squeezed my hand reassuringly.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

Unable to form proper words right then, I just smiled back with a nod.

She squeezed my hand once more before turning to face forward and nodding to the waiting stewards. They pushed open the grand doors, and she stepped through them into the sunlight beyond.

Soft, swelling music began to play, and I waited a few beats before following.

I had known The Sphere would be just as beautiful as I had imagined when I had seen the amazing structure from afar, but nothing could have prepared me for this marvel.

A massive glass dome covered the entire space, swirled with intricate designs and coming to a point high at its center. The work was so seamless that it seemed to be cast in one solid piece rather than several smaller ones. Sunlight shone through the glittering glass and made everything beneath look like something out of a dream.

Gleaming white stone paths wove throughout the space underneath, lined by dozens of colorful flowers and trees and the occasional fountain or pool filled with lotus blossoms. I guessed the entire palace gardens would be able to fit inside and there would still be room to spare.

But despite all the beauty surrounding me, my eye was immediately drawn to where all the paths led. In the center, under the highest point of the dome, were at least a dozen stone steps that led up to the top of a large flat stone dais. A magnificent stone archway sat atop it, behind which a small tent had been erected. Zara had explained that many weddings happened here, not just those of the Zehvitian monarchs. The archway was engraved with each one of the Nine’s symbols and it was seen as a good omen to take your first steps as a couple by passing through it.

A cheer went up as I emerged. The path before me was covered in red, yellow, and white rose petals and the air was heavy with their sweet scent. I took several calming breaths as I walked, trying to keep the butterflies in my stomach at bay as I began the long walk to the platform steps.

My guards had peeled back to walk behind me. Many people tossed more petals in my path and called out cheers and well wishes. I tried to smile at them, but eventually the faces around me blurred and I kept my eyes on Zara’s back as I moved forward.

Upon reaching the base of the dais, Zara moved aside to stand by her mother and Amir. The Fangdar were there as well, standing in their full dragonscale armor, even Sura. Ramin, of course, was not present. All the territory leaders were there, including Salim. His face held a thin smile, but his eyes shot daggers at me as I passed. No doubt he was still insulted that Malik had declared me his Hassai instead of his daughter.

But I quickly dismissed all of that from my mind.

My eyes were now fixed on the man—the king—waiting for me at the top of the dozen or so stairs. I took him in as I lifted my skirt and began to ascend. Rather than his armor, Malik wore an elegant black tunic and pants tucked into black boots. His dark hair was swept back, and the rubies in his crown shined in the sunlight. He looked intimidating and kingly and devastatingly handsome.

My heart skipped a beat as I finally reached the top and he took my much smaller hand in his.

“You look stunning, isholet, ” Malik murmured, his eyes burning with desire and pride. I gave him a shy smile as he bent to kiss the top of my hand. The crowd cheered as he did. “Are you ready?” he asked, those dark eyes missing nothing.

I nodded, suddenly finding myself unable to form words. Zara had explained that it was supposedly a simple ceremony, but since she had never gone through it herself, I was still a little nervous about what to expect.

Malik led me around the side of the archway and behind it, as we were not yet meant to walk through, and into a small tent that had been erected for our privacy.

This next part was meant to be just between us.

The tent was empty save for a Hollow One priest who stood waiting for us.

“Your Majesties,” he murmured as he bowed. We stopped before him. He smiled at both of us. “Are you ready to proceed?”

When we both nodded, he dipped his finger into a jar of oil he held and pressed it into each of our foreheads. He then moved to rub it over Malik’s right inner wrist and forearm.

“What is it?” I asked as the priest moved to do the same to my left arm.

“Godleaf oil,” he answered, naming a rare plant that only grew in remote parts of Palasia and was said to have magical properties. “Queen Lethara was given an incantation from the gods themselves that is only to be used for this ceremony. When the words are spoken over the oil, the images of binding will appear.”

I blinked up at him. “Why have I never heard of this?” Surely if the Nine saw fit to give something so precious to Lethara I would have heard of it. The priests and priestesses in Halmar would have spoken of it.

“The words were passed down to her son, who in turn told them to his oldest son, Aarav, my ancient ancestor,” Malik explained, then he shrugged. “He never saw fit to share it with his brothers, it seems, so in turn, over the ages we have not either. That is why the ceremony takes place inside a tent. Only a trusted few who pledge their lives to the Nine are allowed to know the sacred words, so they may perform the ceremony.”

I wasn’t sure how I felt about something so momentous being kept secret from my kingdom and a large part of the world. But I supposed that was an issue for another day. And it wasn’t Malik’s fault. He was only following in the traditions of those who had come before him.

I nodded to Malik in understanding, intrigued even more to see how this would all unfold.

The priest had already stepped back and had been waiting for us. At a nod from Malik, he said, “Turn and face one another.” We did so. “Now clasp hands and I will say the words.”

Malik took my left hand after I set down my bouquet and pressed his right hand to mine before interlacing our fingers so that our palms, wrists, and forearms were touching. He smiled at me, and I relaxed a little as the priest started speaking. The words were in ancient Zehvitian so I didn’t understand them, but the weight of them filled the room in a way I couldn’t explain.

A slight warmth began to tickle along my skin where we touched. The warmth eventually turned to true heat, though it wasn’t painful. I gasped when seconds later marks began to appear, though I could only partially make them out since our inner wrists were obscured by the other’s.

“Malik, look!” I said in wonder, and he laughed.

I met his stare then and found I couldn’t look away. He was looking at me like I was his. Like I was everything.

I barely noticed when the priest finally stopped speaking and the strange weight in the air faded. The priest stepped out to give us a moment of privacy, and the heat where we still touched lessened.

Eventually, when we pulled apart, I was the first to look down at the new mark on my inner wrist.

I had wondered what it might be, since I had learned it was unique to each person, each couple, and somehow I was not surprised at all when I saw what it was.

A dragon. A male dragon, fierce and beautiful with wings outspread, his horned head curved to one side. It actually reminded me a little bit of Azrun. I blushed as I thought of how I was always comparing Malik to a dragon. Now he would be on my skin for always.

I ran my finger over the design, amazed that it hadn’t hurt at all. I had expected it to, thinking it would be similar to Malik’s marking during the coronation. I could admit I was glad to have avoided that process.

I had been so immersed in examining my own mark that it was only when Malik’s low chuckle reached my ears that I thought to look at his. He was staring down at the flaming flower on his own wrist with a wide grin on his handsome face.

“What’s so funny?” I demanded, feeling like I was missing something. I thought his mark was beautiful. As I looked more closely, it actually seemed familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on why.

“Nothing, siren,” he replied as he examined my own mark. “It is just very fitting. That’s all.” He smiled down at me, and I found myself smiling back. I couldn’t help myself.

It felt like the most natural thing in the world when he bent down and touched his lips to mine. It was soft, tender, and slow, and held a promise that both terrified and thrilled me.

When we emerged from the tent, all those assembled erupted in cheers. The cheering became even more outrageous when Malik bent down and kissed me so thoroughly that I forgot where I was for several moments until he pulled away. He clasped my marked hand in his and together we stepped through the archway. I didn’t feel any differently, but I could have sworn the talisman in my pocket hummed with some kind of energy.

I didn’t have long to think about it, though. Malik raised our clasped hands high for all to see and the crowd began chanting something over and over.

“What are they saying?” I asked.

He grinned back. “All Hail our Dragon King, and his Blessed Queen of Flame.”

The celebrations lasted all day and into the night, and it was late when Malik and I finally made it back to our chambers. I was tired, but my nerves were such that I didn’t feel it as Malik shut the door behind us. Azrun had wisely found somewhere else to sleep tonight, and I wondered if that was my new husband’s doing or not.

I stepped to the vanity and removed the veil from my hair, carefully laying it across the seat there. I suddenly couldn’t bring myself to look at Malik, so I removed my bangles and armband as well and began fidgeting with the oils and perfumes on the table.

“I have something for you.” Malik’s voice came from behind me.

I turned, thankful for the break in the tense silence, to find Malik had retrieved a small black lacquered box and now held it out to me.

I walked over to him and took the box.

“I wanted to give you this earlier, but there never seemed a good time,” he murmured.

I opened the box and gasped. Nestled in velvet sat a beautiful obsidian ring. The polished stone band was twisted through with silver, the midnight gem contrasting beautifully with the shocks of gleaming metal.

“Malik,” I breathed. “You didn’t have to—”

“Yes, I did,” he interrupted. “Now, may I?” He gestured to the ring, and I nodded. He set down the box and removed the ring, then turned and slid it slowly onto my finger.

I remembered Sura telling me it was customary to give gifts of obsidian jewelry in honor of a binding.

I stared down at the ring, then back up at his face. “Thank you,” I said sincerely, touched by the gesture. His eyes smiled down into mine and I couldn’t help but be reminded of our kiss in the tent—and suddenly become aware of how close he stood.

“You’re welcome, siren,” he said, reaching to cup my cheek. His eyes dropped to my lips and a small thrill went through me as he leaned closer. His eyes travelled slowly over me, my hair, my dress. Then his hand slid downward, his thumb tracing over my throat, and my heart leapt in my chest.

“Seeing you today, isholet . . .” He let his fingers skim down over the sensitive skin of my collarbone, my shoulder. “Looking so beautiful in my colors, watching you present yourself to my people.” He hummed, the sound a near growl of pleasure that zinged through my body like a warm shot of lightning, heightening my senses, attuning me to him. “It undoes me,” he confessed.

I couldn’t help the small smile that briefly touched my lips as his fingers pushed my hair to the side and off one shoulder. He took a step around me, circling me slowly.

“So you like the dress, then?” I teased. Nervous desire and a whole host of other emotions competed for dominance inside of me as he huffed a dark laugh close to my ear. I could feel him at my back before warm lips suddenly grazed my shoulder.

“I more than like it, siren.”

Realms! This man.

One large hand slid over my stomach and pressed me back into him, his addictive scent of amber and sandalwood enveloped me.

The shoulder of my gown slid down as his mouth blazed a hot trail over and down it, then back up to my neck. A whimper escaped my lips, and his hands tightened as they gripped my waist.

My whole body shook with nervous anticipation. Was I going to let this happen? Did I want this to happen? He is your husband now. Some of the guilt I felt in that regard lessened, but did I want this—him? This man who made me feel so much. So many things I had never felt before.

“Malik, I—”

I was turned in his arms and the heat in his amber gaze had the blood thundering in my veins.

His mouth lowered to mine. His lips and tongue demanded entry, and I gave it. His hands slid into my hair and gripped the back of my neck, holding me to him. Something hot and wild melted through me at the dominance of the gesture, leaving me desperate with want. I gasped into his mouth, my body involuntarily pressing into his.

“Realms, I need you,” he declared. I knew he spoke the truth. I felt the evidence of his arousal hard against me, and from the beginning he had made no secret of the fact of how much he wanted me.

The realization made me tremble.

I wanted to give in so badly, but this small niggle of doubt in the back of my mind persisted. And this time, it wasn’t my mother’s demeaning voice slicing through my desire, but my own fears.

What if I gave in and let this happen? What if I let myself fall for this man, let myself care for him, believe it would be different, only for him to hurt me too? Almost everyone I had ever cared for had hurt me. And I wasn’t a dragon rider. What if one day he decided I wasn’t good enough? What if I couldn’t give him rider children? Would he still want me then? My own parents didn’t.

“No, wait!” I jerked in his hold, pulling away from him, my thoughts a jumbled mess.

Malik instantly released me, his big chest heaving and his brow pinched in concern. “What’s wrong?”

The situation was so similar to what happened in the gazebo that I hated myself for it. I hated that I couldn’t just silence the doubts and fears in my mind and let myself be with him. “Nothing,” I said, stepping away from him and straightening my dress. “I-I just . . .” My voice came out sounding breathless and pathetic.

I saw him take in my expression and the way my arms were now crossed over my stomach. To my surprise, his face softened, and he held out a hand to me.

“Come with me, siren. I want to show you something.”

My brow furrowed as I straightened my spine and dropped my arms. “Show me what?”

He smiled. “Just trust me.”