Page 70 of Soulbound Shadows: Part 2

I sat with my back to him, and he began working the oil through my hair with precise, gentle movements. It was incredibly calming, the polar opposite of when my mother had tried to drag a brush through my hair when I was a kid.

“I thought I should come find you,” he said. His voice was soft, but the room was a nearly silent little sanctuary, and he was very close. “I wanted to… to make sure you truly wish to go through with this.”

“I do,” I said. “I know it’s happening really fast, but I do want this.”

“I know what it’s like to be pushed into a role out of obligation,” Gabriel said carefully, picking each word like he was playing a game of Operation. “I don’t want you to feel stuck. I’m sure we could find another way, although I know time is of the essence, and?—”

“I want this,” I repeated firmly. “I want to do this with you. I know you have a history with arranged marriage stuff, but this isn’t like that. I mean, if anything, I should make sure you’re okay with it.”

“Yes,” he blurted. “I am. I would be. Even if it was, ah, like that. Not, not arranged, I mean, but… marriage.”

I looked at him over my shoulder and smiled. He looked a little concussed, but in a very handsome way. “I love you,” I said. “You absolute fucking dork.”

“I love you, too,” he said, his eyes brightening. He cleared his throat and set down the bottle, then turned the comb over in his hands. “Your hair’s all set. Lissa said she’s nearly ready for you, and I’m guessing both of us will be absolutely shocked to be surprised by our dear friends when they insist on some sort of elaborate preparation.”

I snorted, climbing off the bed. “Completely caught by surprise.” I kissed him, deep and lingering.

“I’ll see you at the ceremony,” Gabriel said, sounding a little awed.

“Can’t wait.”

Lissa had outdone herself. I stared at my reflection, twisting from side to side, not to check myself out from every angle, but to remind myself that the creature in the mirror was actually me.

Isabella had brought out a tiny pot of pigment and two thin brushes, and she and Lissa copied the proper runes and sigils for the ceremony onto my skin. The pigment was metallic and strangely warm, and as it hit my skin it turned a warm golden color. The markings curled around my fingers, up my arms, along the back of my neck. They’d painted my legs and back, too, but I’d done my face and the ones on the front of my torso myself. With steady hands, I’d marked the runes over my ribs and across my hipbones. I’d painted the tiny sigils onto my breasts and above the neatly groomed hair between my thighs. The markings curled over my cheekbones, and there was one small rune right in the middle of my lower lip.

Then the dress. Lissa had transformed the pale green silk into a floor-length gown that skimmed the lines of my body perfectly, showing me off without making it seem like it was showing me off. It was a halter top, but nothing like anything I’d ever worn before. The bodice came up to a point right between my collarbones and gave off the appearance that nothing at all connected it to the ribbon tied around my neck and cascading down my exposed back. Lissa had somehow managed to make the dress form-fitting and also backless. The whole thing was a feat of engineering. It didn’t look like it had been sewn, more like it had shaped itself to my body.

That wasn’t it, though. Of course it wasn’t. Marcus had told Lissa about ceremonial mantles, and she’d formed it into a sort of cape that draped down to leave my shoulders bare but hung down to trail on the floor. It was covered with embroidery, which could only have been done so quickly with magic. Delicate stitches picked out runes of protection and luck, twisted around healing plants embroidered in full bloom.

Now, fully dressed and painted, I felt like some sort of ancient goddess. The color made my eyes glow. My hair had dried into glossy curls that flowed down my back, and the rune on my lip glinted when I smiled at my reflection. I looked like I deserved to be recognized as a powerful witch. I looked like I was ready to be soul bonded. I looked like someone who was barely even worrying about whether her body paint would smudge onto her one-of-a-kind silk clothes.

The garden, once dry and bereft, now nearly flourished thanks to the magic of the house. It was somewhat scraggly, but it was doing its best, as was evident from the archway of flowers underneath which Marcus stood. He’d found a ceremonial mantle of his own, in a rich blue-black-purple that sparkled with points of silver and gold as if he’d wrapped himself in a piece of the night sky. It was also, I realized with amused horror, a very fancy version of a cartoon wizard robe. At least there wasn’t a hat.

Then, I saw Gabriel, and all other thoughts vanished from my mind. He was dressed simply—by his standards—in an old-fashioned white shirt and plain black trousers. The runes covered his face and hands, and his shirt was unbuttoned enough that I could see they continued there as well. I felt a lick of arousal thinking about where the runes were on my body—where they might be on his.

I was used to seeing Gabriel in buttoned-up, complicated clothes. Not stuffy, exactly, but formal. Seeing him like this was somehow more vulnerable than seeing him naked.

His eyes went wide as I stepped toward him. The way he looked at me… It was as if he never wanted to look away. The feeling was mutual, and fantastic for my ego. We moved toward each other as if we were in a trance, and it was sheer luck that we happened to reach each other in front of the archway.

Was I breathing hard? It felt like I was breathing hard.

“If I could have your attention,” Marcus said. It didn’t seem like it was the first time he’d said it.

I bit back a laugh, and Gabriel smiled at me like we were in on a secret. Finally, we managed to look away from each other.

“Thank you,” Marcus said dryly.

The others gathered around us in a loose circle. They had probably dressed up, but I truly wasn’t paying attention.

“It is my honor and my privilege to lead this ceremony. The soul bond is a rare and special thing. Once it has been done, it cannot be undone. You will be linked for the rest of your lives. With this knowledge, do you wish to continue?”

I reached for Gabriel’s hand, and our fingers brushed immediately—he’d already been reaching for mine.

“Yes,” I said.

“Yes,” he echoed.

“Very good. Is there one who will speak for Gabriel De Montclair and pledge that he has entered this bond freely and happily?”

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