Page 179 of On Wings of Blood

I noticed a slight indentation in one of the marble walls, barely discernible. I pressed my hand against it.

There was a soft click and a panel slid open, just a crack. I wedged my hand in and pulled it towards me, then looked out. No one was around.

I stepped out, pulling the panel almost all the way shut behind me.

Just as I’d expected, I’d emerged in the Sanctum of the Bloodmaiden. But this time, I was in a completely different part of the temple. One of the upper levels.

A balcony wrapped around the mezzanine on which I stood, overlooking a vast, open courtyard below.

Soaring marble columns ringed the space. Tall white candles lined the edges of the balcony, casting a warm glow across the pale marble. Vines covered with lush white flowers draped along the railings.

I took a step forward, holding my breath. Blake was nowhere in sight. But no one else seemed to be up on this level either.

I crept towards the balcony rail, my heart pounding in my chest. Reaching it, I crouched down low, and peered through the balusters.

At least two stories below the level on which I crouched, a group of highbloods had gathered. They wore long black robes and silver masks that covered their eyes and the upper part of their faces, leaving only their mouths exposed.

In the very center of the courtyard stood a large silver bowl, sitting atop a pedestal. Silver chains hung down over it from the ceiling above, swaying ever so slightly.

On the far side of the courtyard, a black throne-like chair stood empty, waiting for an occupant.

The faceless figures stood around the bowl, as though waiting for something.

They didn’t have long to wait.

The low, resonant sound of a gong echoed through the chamber and I jumped.

The crowd of masked highbloods stilled, turning towards the far end of the courtyard.

I tensed as a figure in a black robe and black half-mask stepped into the space. He moved slowly, deliberately. The masked highbloods parted for him, bowing their heads as he passed.

He reached the black throne, turning gracefully before lowering himself into the seat. A second gong sounded.

A young woman in a long, gauzy white robe stepped forward from the shadows.

Unlike the others, her face was unmasked. She was smiling and seemed unafraid. Her hair was loose and dark and wavy. She walked slowly across the courtyard, her bare feet padding silently upon the stone floor.

The masked highbloods made way for her, bowing low to the ground as she passed, as if she were their queen.

Or their goddess.

My pulse quickened, unease tightening my chest.

The woman in white came to a stop before the black throne.

I watched from my hidden perch as the masked man rose slowly to his feet. His black robe billowed slightly with the movement.

“Bloodmaiden, will you accept my offering to you?” he intoned. The words were filled with ritualistic solemnity.

The young woman in the white robe lifted her gaze to meet his.

Her voice was clear and calm as she replied, “Yes. Will you accept mine?”

A strange ripple of anticipation coursed through the masked crowd.

The man on the throne nodded. “I will.”

He turned to the crowd of assembled highbloods, sweeping his hand toward the woman. “Let the union of the Blessed Blood begin.”

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