Page 98 of An Empress of Earth & Darkness

“So handsome, Commander,” she whispered back, and he gave her a devious wink.

He looked dangerously attractive in full battle regalia, and she was thankful that one of the earth witches had taken a short time to heal some of the wounds on his face. They were now subtle bruises and cuts, but still there as a reminder of what he had earned in the duel. But her favourite scar was still there between his brows, and she had an urge to reach up and touch it.

“Today marks a new beginning for you both.” A familiar voice sent a shock wave through her, and she turned her head to see Artem Stryker standing before them also in a black tunic. He sent her a boyish grin, and she had to stop herself from rolling her eyes.

By the Gods above, how had she not spied him at all?

She turned to face Torin again.

Artem Stryker, really?

Her thoughts must have somehow travelled into Torin’s mind as he raised his eyebrows, his hands clasping in front of him innocently. Let him have this moment, angel.

She rolled her eyes a little, and as Torin fought a smile, his right dimple finally appeared in his cheek.

“Surprised to see me?” Artem whispered to her, and she wanted to send a spout of fire up to burn off his eyelashes. But she didn’t, she just flashed him a smile bigger than usual, telling him that she would get him back later. “The Warriors of Thorin, Covens of Rhiannon, and everyone from factions in between are gathered here to witness a treaty of marriage between Torin Blacksteel, first of his name, Commander of Clan Blacksteel, and Emara Clearwater, Empress of House Air, heir to the elemental crown. They will join together in matrimony under the Gods of Light and bind themselves as one today.”

Emara glanced at Gideon as he moved from behind Torin and handed him a small dagger. Emara’s heart quickened again.

“Repeat after me,” Artem said. “With this weapon that Thorin granted us, I will bleed.”

“With this weapon that Thorin granted us, I will bleed,” Torin repeated as he carved a small cut into his palm. He didn’t even wince.

Emara’s heart skipped a beat as his bleeding hand reached out for hers. She carefully placed her hand in his. Torin looked at her in a way that promised he would try not to hurt her. He nodded for her to recite the vow.

“With this weapon that Thorin granted us, I will bleed,” she whispered. She gasped as Torin quickly sliced her palm. It was strange to see another wound where her ascension scar was so slightly faded.

Artem raised his chin. “With this blood, I give to you my life and mix your soul with mine.”

Torin repeated his brother’s words and clasped his hand over Emara’s, his piercing eyes on her face. He nodded to let her know that it was her turn, but as she said the words, she got lost in his stare.

Kellen moved from Torin’s side and handed Artem a strip of cloth and then Lorta did the same. Artem placed the fabrics over their connected hands and wrapped their grip like a parcel, binding their hands together.

“With this Blacksteel cloth, your hands are now bound together. With the cloth from House Air, your lives are now joined and your knot of marriage is now infinite.”

Emara took a breath, and something low in her stomach shifted as she watched Torin. He tightened his grip on her hand, and the little slash in her skin stung as his blood mixed with hers.

Artem’s deep, velvet voice broke through the silence once more. “Like the stars, your love is eternal, and like the earth, your bond is the foundation for your union to grow. May your union be as strong as the mountains of the north. And may the ancestors that went before us bless this marriage in the Light Gods’ names. May this knot hold tightly through the storms of life, and may the hands that hold each other now be blessed by the Mother God.”

“Blessed be,” the crowd around her vowed, including Torin. And he gave her a gentle nod.

“Blessed be,” she repeated.

Gideon stepped forward with a quaich engraved with the clan’s ancient crest. He poured an auburn liquid into the quaich from a flask, and Emara knew straight away from the scent that it was whiskey. Gideon passed the quaich to Artem and he said, “From this drinking vessel, you will both share your first toast as husband and wife and seal the bond between your two factions.”

Emara watched Torin as he unbound the cloth from their hands, and a cool breeze swept in around her wrists, kissing her cut palm. Torin reached up and took the quaich from his brother. Turning to look at Emara, he said, “To Emara Blacksteel, Commanding Wife of the Blacksteel Clan and Empress of House Air.” He drank from the quaich, and the clan roared around them.

Emara Blacksteel.

Her heart almost burst at the sound of her new name on his lips. She took the quaich in two shaky hands as Artem said, “As you pass this drinking vessel with both hands, each of you know that trust is present in the marriage as neither of you can reach for your weapon.”

That earned a laugh from the clan and even a smirk from Emara.

Torin raised an eyebrow. “Is your spear strapped around your beautiful thigh?”

She didn’t answer him, not in front of so many people. He was disturbed and overly confident, but so very utterly handsome.

He gave a snippet of a laugh. “Are you just going to stare at me, or are you going to sip the whiskey, angel?” Torin’s brows danced in amusement as his sharp features pulled into an exceptional smile.

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