Page 81 of Taken By The Dark Three
Warmth blooms in my chest. “Then rest now. Tomorrow, the real work begins. A seat on the council, a refuge for purna. And we ensure no one undermines it.”
Eryx smirks. “And I ensure no bored noble tries to scheme behind your back. Should one appear, they find a scimitar at their throat.”
Zareth’s voice turns wry. “I’ll handle any mental sabotage or old wards that threaten. We vow it.”
Vaelith simply squeezes my hand. “I’m yours, Selene. Always.”
My throat tightens. I ease down, nestling among them. Outside, Orthani is far from healed. But for the moment, we hold a precious respite. The flicker of flames in the lamp casts dancing shadows on the walls. I close my eyes, lulled by the steady rhythm of their breathing, the knowledge that we’ve carved out a future from chaos. No, I don’t want the throne or to subjugate the city. But I’ll shape Orthani from within, forging a sanctuary for my kind and proving we can coexist.
Sleep steals over me, images flitting through my mind: the King’s cunning smile, the battered city gates, purna stepping from shadows into open sun, humans daring to hope for freedom. And in every vision, my men stand at my side, unwavering. We are not parted by tradition or jealousy. We stand as an unbreakable quartet. That thought warms me as I drift off, certain that tomorrow we’ll rise anew, ready to guide Orthani into the era we crafted from its own ashes.
28
VAELITH
Istand at the center of Orthani’s grand courtyard, surrounded by more onlookers than I’ve seen since the siege. Torches flicker against twilight’s fading light, illuminating the columns that still bear scorch marks from the Red Purna’s assault. The air hums with a tense mixture of curiosity and apprehension. Voices drift over the crowd—whispers, hushed exclamations—as people crane their necks to watch the ceremony we’ve arranged on short notice.
I inhale slowly, trying to center my thoughts. I’m wearing my formal armor, polished as best as possible despite recent battles, and my House’s sigils gleam in the torchlight. To my left, Eryx fidgets with the hem of his dark tunic, scanning the gathered mass with that roguish confidence in his half-smile. To my right, Zareth stands straight-backed, his robes bearing the Velcorin crest. He is regal and impassive, though I notice the slight tension in his jaw betraying his nerves. The city rarely witnesses any ceremony involving purna—much less one forging alliances in public.
Beyond us, King Rython Vatoris watches from a raised platform, arms folded. His expression is measured, neitherapproving nor condemning. He allowed this event, no doubt to keep Orthani stable. But I sense the undercurrent of power beneath his calm. He won’t relinquish his throne easily, yet we’re here to show that Orthani will honor Selene without dethroning him—an uneasy balance.
A hush ripples through the courtyard, drawing my attention. Selene appears at the far end of the plaza, stepping into the open amid a slow drumbeat that echoes off the stone walls. My heart lurches at the sight of her—dressed in a flowing gown of deep crimson, purna markings gracing her arms. The flicker of torchlight dances over her confident stride. People shift to give her space, half in awe, half in lingering fear.
I exchange a quick glance with Eryx, who nods in silent admiration, and Zareth’s gaze flicks toward her, composed yet charged with intensity. Selene crosses the courtyard, each step exuding quiet power. Around us, murmurs intensify:
“She’s the purna who turned Orthani’s fate…”
“… Fought off the Red Purna and forced a negotiation…”
“… She took three dark elves as her consorts, so they say… maybe it’s just rumors.”
Their voices confirm the swirling gossip. Some remain hesitant, uncertain whether to bow or spit. My chest tightens, remembering how Orthani’s old laws would’ve demanded her execution. Now, she strides through the heart of the city to stand before the King and the watchers, forging an official vow that acknowledges her place without toppling the monarchy.
She stops before the raised platform, chin lifted, the quiet weight of her presence silencing onlookers. Zareth and Eryx move to flank me, forming a small arc. A hush falls as I step forward to greet her.
“Selene,” I say, voice firm, though tension coils within me. “We gather here to affirm your standing in Orthani. King Rythonremains on the throne, but the city acknowledges your influence. Tonight, we formalize that recognition.”
Her gaze sweeps over me, over Eryx and Zareth, then across the assembled crowd. “Yes. Orthani must see we aren’t here to dismantle everything. We stand to guide it away from centuries of cruelty and into a new era. Let them watch as we affirm a shared oath.”
A flicker of satisfaction crosses King Rython’s face; he steps to the edge of his platform. “Hear me, Orthani,” he proclaims, voice resonating. “We convene under the twilight’s blessing to acknowledge a vow: that purna no longer hide in shadows, that they need not fear extermination. And in turn, we reaffirm the monarchy and council.”
A ripple of interest moves through the crowd. I spot a few battered nobles in the front row, along with purna survivors, humans peering from behind columns, even some orcs traveling through Orthani’s outskirts. All stand enthralled by the unexpected union about to unfold.
My pulse quickens. I pivot, stepping to the dais that once served for Orthani’s official ceremonies. Eryx and Zareth follow. Selene advances behind us, her gown trailing across the cracked stones. Once we’re assembled, we face the watchers—three dark elf men, publicly declaring ourselves devoted to a purna woman. The older tradition demanded a single “mate,” if ever recognized. But we subvert it. The entire crowd sees this is more than a typical vow: it’s a living testament to Selene’s unique power over each of us.
Taking a breath, I address the gathering. “Orthani. I am Vaelith Zothani, once solely loyal to our ancient warrior code. I stand before you having witnessed how a single purna, Selene Varess, saved this city from ruin. She holds no lust for the throne, yet she claims a role in Orthani’s future. In public vow, I pledge my devotion, for she commands my respect—and more.”
My words hang in the air. Soft gasps rustle through the crowd; I see older warriors exchange stunned looks. They recall I was the paragon of Orthani discipline. Now I stand, acknowledging my bond to a purna in front of them. My throat feels dry, but I force myself to hold firm.
Eryx steps up next, smirking for the onlookers. “I’m Eryx Hazeth, once a disgraced noble turned assassin in Orthani’s underbelly. I found redemption and a cause in Selene’s magic. She lured me from darkness, forging a path no one else dared. Before you all, I vow my loyalty to her. She’s no captive. She’s the one I choose to follow, even as the city unravels old prejudices.”
A hush of shock greets his statement, though a few nod with reluctant admiration. Eryx’s swagger resonates, reminding them of the city’s hidden labyrinth where he once thrived. Now he stands here, arms bared, a dark elf assassin turned guardian for a purna. If that isn’t enough scandal, there’s still Zareth.
Zareth’s expression remains controlled, though tension radiates from him. He inclines his head. “I am Zareth Velcorin, scion of House Velcorin, once enthralled by the city’s psionic traditions. I attempted to dominate Selene, only to learn her will surpasses mine. Rather than kill me, she opened my eyes to Orthani’s potential for rebirth. Today, I declare my devotion to her cause and her power.”
He speaks with unwavering calm, but I detect the flicker of humility—rare for him. The mention of his earlier attempt to enslave her draws murmurs. Many recall rumors of how Zareth Velcorin prided himself on mind-breaking foes. That he now kneels to a purna in public underscores how thoroughly Selene reshaped Orthani’s dynamics.
A hush deepens. The crowd waits. Finally, Selene steps forward, glancing at King Rython, who nods for her to address the assembly. She turns, voice clear yet measured, audible to every corner of the courtyard. “You see three warriors, eachonce powerful in Orthani’s realm, now standing at my side. That is not submission alone. It is partnership. They willingly bind themselves to me, and I accept them. In turn, I vow not to overthrow Orthani’s throne. I vow to aid this city, ensuring purna and other marginalized groups are no longer hunted.”
