Page 49 of Blood Feast

Of course not.

I still haven’t managed a perfect cup,he finally confessed.Oh my Goddess, Cassia, I’m afraid I’m going to ruin this night.

Her laughter sparkled through him, more beautiful than any glass.Lio. It doesn’t have to be perfect, remember? It only needs to be ours.

Theirs. He could not possibly make this more theirs after everything he had poured into his unstable, powerful creation.

The flaws in the glass are my favorite part, too,she said.

Lio let the tension drain out of him, let his thelemancy flow as gently into the glass as into her mind every time he reached for her. He stopped trying to craft a precise spell and allowed his casting to flow according to natural laws he did not fully understand. The Lustra had taught him that.

His power took on the bizarre magical patterns he had wrought, against all odds, inside the material. Their disparate affinities, in Union, reacted with the forces that had brought him and his Grace together, retracing their painful, wondrous path to each other.

The glass hummed, hardening before his eyes. The enchantment came to life, sending a tremor through Lio’s veins. He felt Cassia’s ephemeral gasp.

A thousand shatters assaulted his ears. Shards of glass danced through the air around him. One nicked his face, and blood trickled into his mouth.

The chalice dropped into his hands, imperfect but unbroken.

ETERNAL OATH

Lio stepped into theantechamber with a comb still attached to his hair and Hoyefe holding the other end of it. All the congratulatory cups the guests had brought were arranged on an enormous table. In the center of the dazzling array, a velvet-draped pedestal waited for the avowal cup.

“Don’t you dare drop it,” Tendo threatened.

“The spell is complete,” Lio breathed. “It’s too powerful an artifact for a mere drop to break the glass now.”

The weight of his uncle’s hand rested on his shoulder. “This is a creation to be proud of.”

Hoping Cassia would agree, Lio set their chalice on its stand. Reaching under his collar, he broke the seal on Cassia’s braid, which had not left his neck since she had put it on him. He coiled her hair inside the cup, along with his own Grace braid, which she had entrusted to him earlier that night.

“Now hold still,” Hoyefe commanded, reaching for the other side of Lio’s head. “And be less tall.”

Lio stooped to make his friend’s work easier. Callen reached in with a rag to wipe the blood from Lio’s forehead.

“Hespera’s Mercy,” Lio said, “did I get blood on my avowal robe?”

His uncle chuckled. “No, but it wouldn’t be the first time an avowal robe was bloodstained before, during—or especially after—the ceremony.”

Behind Uncle Argyros, Lyros gave Mak a sly look. Mak blushed.

Hoyefe motioned for Lio to turn.

Lio obeyed. “Do I meet the standards of Lord Hoyefe of the Owia, alumnus of Imperial University’s School of Fine Arts, Theater Department?”

“You’re not the only artist who did some of the finest work of his career tonight.” Hoyefe dusted his nails across his shoulder. “You’re too pretty to live.”

“Thank you, my friend,” Lio said.

“You may thank me by introducing Severin and me to every unavowed Hesperine guest at your ceremony. Since I dashingly rescued him in Tenebra, my shy darling has become quite the rebel. He’s finally ready to invite someone to join our romantic adventures.”

Lio grinned. “You won’t be alone tonight, Lonesome. We’ll ensure you two have the finest company.”

Tendo, now in his own royal Sandira finery, looked Lio up and down.

“Well,” Lio asked him, “do you deem me worthy to make my vows to one of the two most dangerous sisters ever to reach Orthros or the Empire’s shores?”

Tendo’s mouth tilted in a smile. “You’re equal to her.”

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