Page 26 of A Bond of Fire and Roses

He smirks at me, and then he laughs. I can’t help but chuckle slightly with him, which seems to take him by surprise. It surprises me too. For a moment, it feels like the weight of the kingdom isn’t on our shoulders as we walk. That we aren’t enemies, and this isn’t the man who killed my family and took my throne from me. He’s just a beautiful man I’m about to marry.

Of course, reality is a bitch, and it knocks me off my feet within seconds the moment we exit the small chapel. I look away from him, reminding myself of my fate. Erax seems content to do the same as we step out into the crowds. Guards line the streets now, standing in front of the crowds of people and not letting them pass. They throw gold petals over us as we continue to walk, and Erax doesn’t say a word to me.

Is he as nervous as me? Isn’t this everything he wanted? Or is he unhappy with the idea of marrying me too? I should feel relieved at the prospect, but there’s a part of me that is shockingly disappointed. And I don’t like how that part of me keeps growing bigger.

My eyes flicker out across the people, some of whom must remember my parents as they cheer and support the celebration. I can’t help but be amazed at how there isn’t an ounce of fear on their faces. They adore this man, this usurper who took everything from me. But the people look better than I remember them as a child, less thin and sick. They all seem to have colour in their cheeks and a happiness in their eyes I never witnessed until now. Why did they never look like this when my parents ruled?

Did my parents not look after their people like they swore to me they would? I was very rarely allowed outside the castle grounds. In fact, I can count on one hand how often I visited the people of our kingdom. I remember their condition being poor during difficult harvests, but I never realised how bad until now. I have so many questions taking root in my mind, but I know this isn’t the day for them.

When we reach the cathedral, I immediately feel so nervous that sickness rises in my throat. A dragon roars above us the moment my bare feet step onto the cold marble steps, and flames lick the skies. Erax's dragon swoops over the chapel, followed by ten other dragons in shades of red and orange, and they fly high above, circling the chapel. They swirl around each other, diving and spinning, and it’s stunning to see.

“Are they dancing?” The question escapes me as I watch them. I have heard of dragon dancing, but I wasn’t sure it was true. I certainly never imagined I’d get to see it one day let alone on the day of my wedding.

“Yes,” Erax answers. “They are happy. It is an honoured wedding gift for us.”

We watch them for a few more minutes and tears well in my eyes. It’s like they’re dancing to a song only they can hear, and how I wish I could hear the lyrics for just one moment. With a gentle pull, Erax leads me into the chapel. His boots echo on the dark stone and braziers flicker as we pass by them. The building seems to have been carved out of gorgeous red trees that cover the walls and stretch all the way up to the vaulted ceiling. Gold leaves litter every inch of the floor, sparkling in the sunlight which shines through the many gaps in the walls. There are statues of the gods here, behind the altar. A black onyx statue for Nytar and a red ruby statue for Hekai. They stand tall and imposing, their hands wielding dragons in their hands like weapons, and they look down at us as if we are vermin. At least that’s how I’ve always felt these gods look whenever they are depicted. Their expressions certainly don’t make me ever want to pray to them.

Erax doesn’t stop walking until we are fully inside the building, away from all the eyes of the outside crowds. A lone priest stands by the altar waiting for us. The old man who told me to strip not so long ago. My blood boils at the sight of him. I am surprised, however, to find the rest of the room is empty. There are no witnesses, no servants. Just this man, and the one beside me who is about to claim me as his wife

“Where’s everyone else?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper.

Erax leans down, his hot breath caressing my ear. “Our ritual is for us. I cannot give you privacy in other ways, like a normal woman might have, but it is in my power to give you this.”

I blink twice in pure surprise. I thought he’d want every noble in his kingdom to attend the wedding. To witness the final fuck, you to my father as he takes me as his bride, securing his reign once and for all. I didn’t expect this kind of mercy.

‘Where was my wife’s mercy?’

My cheeks flush at the memory of his words, at the way he avenged me. Soon we are both standing in front of the priest who goes over the ancient binding words that will link our lives together. Most are in a language I do not know, and I try to keep my hands from shaking as his chant rolls down my spine. For all I know he could be binding my soul to the king’s forever, in this realm and the after realm, and there is nothing I can do about it. But then isn’t that exactly what we are doing here? The moment I become the king’s wife; our soul will be bound for eternity.

While I watch the priest, blind to whatever he is saying, Erax keeps his eyes locked on me, never leaving my face for one moment. Once the priest is finished speaking his strange tongue, he offers him a dagger. Erax cuts a line down his palm without blinking.

“Here, make a cut.” He hands me the white dagger, tinted with his blood. “Make an offering to the gods, so they might bless our union.”

I stare at the dagger for far too long, my eyes stinging with unshed tears, wondering if I should press the blade into my chest and die, or marry my enemy. I think to kill myself now would be a cowardly way out this, and wouldn’t that just give him what he wants deep down? He’s only marrying me out of duty to his kingdom and to uphold his reputation.

Besides, I’ve come to realise that I’m not ready to die. Not yet. I need more out of my life. I want more, and I’m willing to fight for it, even if that means fighting my husband for the rest of my life.

I run the dagger across my palm, wincing at the sharp sting as my blood pours down my hand and I close my fingers. Erax takes my hand in his, fusing our cuts together, our bloods mixing in an eternal bond of fire and roses. I swear fire and ice flash in our joined hands for a second, and I blink, and it’s gone. Did he see that? Did anyone?

The priest clears his throat. “Do you wish to repeat the vows after me?—”

“No,” Erax murmurs, his eyes intent on me. “I know them.”

He tugs me closer, our hands held so tight, and for a second there is just us.

Two people stood before the gods, lying to them that we aren’t enemies but lovers who want to be married, and Erax is the most beautiful liar of all. He looks into my eyes as if searching for something, as if he’s stripping every layer of my courage away down to my very soul. I feel naked under his gaze, and I’m shivering.

“I stand before the gods, before the sun, moon and stars, to pledge my soul to you, Maelena.” He lifts his injured hand and presses it over my heart, his blood seeping through my dress, then he smears his thumb down my lips, and I can taste it. Our blood joining together, our soul binding to each other. “Take my blood as your power and my body as your shield, and I will be the vessel that carries you. I will protect you and honour your needs and satisfy your every desire. I alone will worship your body, for you are mine, and I am yours.” He gently cups my cheek, smudging the dragons. “Mine.”

That word takes my breath away.

Erax pulls me to him, and then he kisses me. His lips are like a branding, far worse than the vows of our marriage, far worse than our blood mixing together, because when he kisses me, he possesses me down to my very core. He consumes me with every second of his lips pushing against mine, every inch of his skin brushing my body as his hand slides down to my neck, pulling me closer together like he can’t get enough. Like I’m the very air to his lungs. The truest worst thing of all… is that I don’t want him to stop.

When he breaks away, loud bells ring across the city and the cheering can be heard even louder than the bells. Even louder than my racing heart. With nothing but gold in his eyes, he steps back but links our hands. I’m too shocked to pull away.

“I have a present for you, my wife, to celebrate our marriage.”

“I don’t need more gifts,” I say, letting go of his hand, feeling cold when I’m not in his arms anymore.

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