Page 47 of The Fated and the Damned
The officiant began and I bent my head, not really hearing the words until it was time to commit myself to the incredible creature by my side.
“Do you take Kitarni Bárány as your wife and lady?” the officiant asked, and I stared at him, unblinking.
“I do.”
“Do you swear to protect her, love her, and defend her under the eyes of the Mother God and all the gods above?”
Yes. A million times over, fucking yes. “I do.”
The officiant nodded seriously before looking at Kitarni, and I kept my gaze straight even as my heart seemed to cease its beating as I waited.
The officiant repeated the same questions, and I felt her straighten beside me, her shoulder brushing mine ever so slightly. Her fine collarbones heaved, the delicate tendons in her neck straining as she swallowed, but her finger found my own, the barest touch.
“I do,” she said. Then again, the second time, “I do.”
I didn’t move, but my shoulders seemed to sag at those two precious words. She was mine. Always, eternally,mine.
The crowd of onlookers cheered and the officiant left the dais, but it was all just background noise.
I saw only her, felt only her. Our lives were forever changed and, after that monumental shift, Kitarni remained kneeling, as if afraid of facing the gathered audience.
I lifted her chin with my finger, forcing her gaze to my own. My fingers trailed along her cheek and I pressed my thumb over those rose-tinted, full lips. I was keenly aware of the audience whispering and I ignored them easily. I only cared that she was mine.
We would celebrate with our loved ones, of course. Feast and drink and dance until our feet were sore, but really, I just wanted her to myself. Selfishly, like a dragon hoarding its treasure. And she was the most precious treasure of all.
I stretched out my hand and she slipped her palm in, letting me pull her to her feet. “Kiss me with those pretty lips, wife,” I whispered in her ear. She frowned at the commanding tone, but her upper lip quirked as I pulled her against me, twisting my fingers through the hair at the nape of her neck.
“Only if you promise to make me moan from them later,” she said huskily in my ear.
That’s my girl. “Keep talking and you’ll make me hard in front of all our friends.”
She smirked, leaning in to seal our kiss, but just as our lips were about to meet the doors to the hall burst open, a soldier with wide eyes running through. “Fire! Fire in the fields. We’re under attack!”
Fuck. And here I thought today couldn’t be any more trying.
The hallways streamed with nobles and soldiers alike. Witches from neighbouring covens didn’t hesitate to join the call to arms as the fire outside lapped hungrily at the lavender kindling, writhing like snakes through the fields.
Water. We needed water to sate its thirst for destruction, which meant we were at the mercy of aid from the Blue Coven. Earth magic would be near useless against this threat—at least until it was staunched enough to cover with dirt—and Kitarni, for once, could do nothing with her own magic.
But it didn’t mean we couldn’t fight. Not bothering to change my regalia, I stormed through the winding hallways, bursting out into the courtyard where a stableboy had my horse saddled and ready. We didn’t fuck around when the city was threatened.
András and Lukasz were on my tail, jumping onto their own steeds agilely and following my lead. To András I yelled, “Protect Kitarni at all costs.” He nodded, not needing further direction as he barked at the stableboy to have Kitarni’s horse, Arló, readied.
There was no use commanding her not to fight. She would not be told no, and I would never try again. I’d seen how well that had worked the first time.
Lukasz and I galloped down the streets, yelling at citizens to “Move” and “Make way” as the horses’ hooves pounded on the cobblestone and we found ourselves charging through the gates and into the fray.
The hills surrounding us were ablaze, smoke smothering the air like a thick blanket, the heat scorching, making me sweat beneath the leather and armour. Witches waved their arms in rhythmic movements, graceful and flowing as a winding river as water poured from their palms and doused the flames.
Between them all, our enemies swarmed like rats, culling witches while they worked. Anger flared through me, hotter than the fire, swifter than the surging water. They dared attack us on today of all days, threatening my people.My wife.
I urged my horse onwards, killing cultists with sweep after sweep of my blade. My sword melted through bone like butter and I howled, the táltosok at my back echoing the cry. Behind the city gates and in the kennels, our great wolves joined in, their eerie, otherworldly song sending shivers down my back.
Soon I would unleash them upon this plague, but not tonight. Not until the true battle began. Body after body I cut down, swiftly ploughing through the field. “Lukasz,” I yelled. “Close ranks. Herd them into—”
My horse screamed as a spear pierced its chest and we went down. I curled into a ball, trying not to stab myself with my blade as I sprawled onto the field, precariously close to the fire raging nearby.
“Dante,” a shrill voice shrieked and my heart surged with panic as I realised Kitarni had joined the battle … in her wedding gown. It was so very her I couldn’t help but smile, then remembered someone could cut me down any minute. Focus, Dante.
