Page 75 of Taken By The Dark Three
Eryx steps close to Selene, brushing a faint kiss on her cheek. “I look forward to playing the scandalous consort in front of all those stuffy nobles. This will be the show of the century.”
She smirks, letting her gaze travel over the three of us. “Then we prepare. The courtyard of shrines will serve. We gather tomorrow at dusk, invite the entire city, and let them witness the union of purna and Orthani. In one gesture, we’ll prove a new order stands.”
Tension fizzes in the alcove. We recall how battered the city is, yet tomorrow we’ll hold a ceremonial vow. The entire notion bristles with risk, but that’s what we do best—defy the old ways. Selene dismisses Eryx and Zareth to finalize tasks. They leave, heads high, brimming with confidence that this ceremony will reshape Orthani. She and I remain alone once again.
She regards me, expression pensive. “We have so little time to rest. But I want to be sure you’re ready for this. It won’t just be you claiming me in Orthani’s eyes. I’ll be claiming you.” Her voice dips, vibrant with that seductive authority.
A shiver runs through me. “I’m ready,” I murmur. “I want them to see you are no subordinate. You stand as my equal—or more. Let that spark a new era.”
A flicker of heat crosses her face. She curls a finger under my chin, tilting my head. “Your calm acceptance of my dominance might scandalize them as much as the notion of me uniting with a dark elf. Are you certain you can handle their scorn?”
I swallow, thinking of the proud man I once was, the unwavering soldier who believed only in Orthani’s might. “Yes. I’d rather be bound to you openly than hide in half-lies. Let Orthani adapt, or be left behind.”
Her eyes gleam with approval. She leans in, pressing her lips to mine in a kiss that sends sparks along my spine. There’s desperation in it, as though she too feels the weight of this new step. I grip her waist, returning the kiss with a fervor Ican’t contain. My mind replays the memory of lying under her command, of letting her mastery of me stoke my deepest desires. Now we take that private dynamic and thrust it onto the public stage. My pulse hammers with both fear and thrill.
She withdraws, voice husky. “Then let’s finalize everything. Tomorrow, at dusk, in the courtyard of shrines. Summon any who remain loyal to you among the guards. We’ll set a stage, bring what’s left of Orthani’s formal ceremony, and I’ll weave my purna tradition into it. Eryx and Zareth will stand behind me, a living testament to the fact that I choose more than one partner. And you… you’ll vow your loyalty. Before the entire city.”
Nodding, I brace myself. “And you’ll vow to stand by Orthani, shaping it rather than letting it rot?”
She inclines her head. “Yes. This union binds me to the city’s future. No more hiding in the shadows. We form a new Orthani—together.”
The next hours pass in a blur. I gather squads of guards, giving them the unexpected directive: prepare the courtyard of shrines for a public vow. The men exchange bewildered glances, but they obey, too shaken by recent events to protest. Eryx and Zareth round up willing purna who renounce the recent violence, encouraging them to watch or participate peacefully. Word spreads fast that a “mating ceremony” is set. The city, reeling from the siege, fixates on this curious news: a commander wedding a purna in front of the shrines. Whispers of shock and excitement ripple through every battered street.
By the time dusk approaches, the courtyard bustles with uneasy anticipation. Broken columns have been cleared to form a modest clearing. Torches line the perimeter, casting a golden glow over the chipped statues that once represented Orthani’s old gods. I stand near the center, wearing my formal dark elf regalia, though it’s marred by scuffs from battle. My shoulders are tense, heart pounding. Soldiers and nobles ringthe courtyard’s edge, joined by purna who hover uncertainly. Even a few humans gather at the edges, blinking in confusion. The entire city, or what remains, has turned out to witness this union.
Eryx arrives first, dressed in an elegant black tunic, his usual roguish grin tinted with solemnity. Zareth follows, wearing silver-trimmed robes that reflect his house’s station. The hush intensifies as they take positions flanking me. Onlookers murmur, some scandalized that these men share devotion to the same woman. But no one dares cause a scene. The memory of the siege is too fresh, and they fear our combined power.
Then the torches flare. Selene steps into view, escorted by Ai, whose small hand is clasped in hers. The child’s silver hair shimmers in the torchlight, while Selene moves with regal grace. She wears a long, dark gown that accentuates her purna markings at the collarbones—runes that glow faintly, signifying her awakened power. An audible gasp spreads across the crowd.
My breath catches. She looks every bit a queen, dark hair partially pinned up, leaving streaks of shimmering color along her temples—perhaps a subtle transformation to enhance her allure. She releases Ai’s hand, guiding her to stand near Eryx. Then Selene meets my gaze, and we step together at the courtyard’s center. The hush grows profound.
For a moment, I let my eyes linger on her, struck by how far we’ve come. We were once adversaries, then uneasy allies, then lovers bound by necessity. Now I vow to claim her before the city, and in turn, she claims me. A ripple of tension surges through me, part raw desire, part proud conviction.
She lifts her chin, speaking in a steady tone that resonates across the courtyard. “Orthani stands on new ground. Our old hostilities nearly destroyed us. I am purna, once hunted by your laws. Yet I fought beside you to save this city. Now, I stand withVaelith, not as a captive, but as an equal. Today, we unite purna and dark elf traditions to show that we choose a shared future.”
A wave of stunned whispers courses through the crowd. I step forward, breathing steadily. My voice carries as I address them, recalling the formality of Orthani ceremonies but twisting it to suit our cause. “I, Vaelith Zothani, once a commander sworn to Orthani’s old ways, pledge my devotion to Selene Varess, purna. I vow to stand at her side, not as master, but as partner. Let the city witness our union as a bond of equals.”
Gasps flicker in the audience. Some watch in awe, others with uncertainty, but no one speaks out. The weight of the vow presses on me. My voice shakes with an intensity I can’t mask. Selene’s eyes glimmer, a hint of relief and raw emotion shining through.
She turns to me, stepping closer until our hands join. “I, Selene Varess, accept your vow. I offer my purna magic not in subjugation, but in alliance. I vow to protect Orthani from tyranny, to guide it beyond cruelty. In return, I claim you, Vaelith, as partner and proof that purna need not be enslaved.”
The shock among the crowd is palpable. Many likely believed she’d simply nod acceptance, but she openly proclaims her dominion in this vow. A swirl of tension and desire coils in me. My entire body thrums with the knowledge that I yield to her will. And from my peripheral vision, I see Eryx and Zareth stepping forward, positioning themselves behind her, forming a living testament to the men who share her bed, who obey her command. Another hush crosses the watchers. Humans and purna exchange startled looks; a few even grin in cautious triumph, seeing Orthani’s traditions shattered.
Selene glances at Eryx, who bows with a theatrical flourish, acknowledging her hold on him. Zareth dips his head more stiffly, eyes flicking to the startled nobles. Then both return to stillness, standing guard at her back. The entire scene is moreprovocative than anything Orthani has witnessed: one woman, three men, forging an alliance in broad daylight. I feel my pulse hammer. This is the future we shape—scandalous, united, unstoppable.
A faint wind stirs the courtyard. Overhead, crows circle, as though sensing the city’s transformation. Ai stands to the side, wearing an expression of quiet wonder. She clutches Eryx’s sleeve, comforted by his presence. On the dais, an old priest—likely dragged from some hidden corner—nervously steps up, uncertain how to handle a purna wedding. He clears his throat, stumbling through a few standard lines about Orthani’s blessings. But his voice trembles with confusion, obviously never performed a ceremony for a purna bride, let alone with her other lovers present.
Selene and I remain side by side, our clasped hands a focal point. The priest completes a disjointed recitation, then looks at us awkwardly. “By the old and new gods, do you each vow to support the city and stand together?”
We both nod, ignoring the archaic structure. She leans toward me, voice low enough that only I catch it. “Kiss me, Vaelith. Let them see it all.”
My heart clenches. Without hesitation, I slip an arm around her waist, pulling her flush. Our lips meet in front of the city, a searing moment of truth. The crowd collectively holds its breath. The contact is fierce and claiming, her taste a reminder that we broke chains to stand here. My entire body tingles with the surge of heat, recalling the nights we succumbed to each other’s needs. This public kiss cements the vow. When we break apart, the hush is deafening.
For a long moment, no one speaks. Then a few voices break the silence—cheers from purna who slip from the crowd, uncertain applause from some humans. Many nobles stare rigidly, jaws tight, unsure whether to accept or condemn. Butnone raise an objection, daunted by our unwavering stance and the memory of the city’s near destruction. We overcame the Red Purna, we overcame Orthani’s old edicts. The city stares, marveling at what stands before them.
Selene lifts her chin, addressing them one final time. “Orthani will not remain a city of cruelty. Purna will not be exterminated or enslaved. We reshape this realm, forging alliances with orcs, with humans, with any who join peacefully. Let our union be the first symbol of that new era.”
The hush cracks with pockets of clapping. Some watchers depart, uneasy. Others linger, expressions filled with cautious hope. In that scattered applause, I sense we have accomplished something monumental. Eryx steps up, setting a hand on Selene’s shoulder, leaning in to murmur a sly remark about the city’s scandal. Zareth remains behind her, face composed, yet I notice the flicker of pride in his eyes. Ai edges forward, smiling tentatively as she grasps Selene’s free hand.
