Page 93 of Mystique of the Fallen
“If you are insinuating that you aren’t sassy, Grand Warlock, you have some introspection to do,” Worth retorted.
Rafe’s mouth thinned, but he ignored the troublemakers Roman was secretly enjoying. “Grant and Roman, will you please raise your left hands?”
With a grin for Grant, Roman did as he was asked. After centuries of waiting for his other half, the moment of binding his soul had finally arrived. Every part of him was excited to be connected with Grant in such a beautiful way. He could not wait to share forever with his man.
Drystan and Conley joined them. Thanks to Chander’s magic, there was a dark poison flowing around two blades—which was the only thing that allowed fallen knights to bleed. One was the black dagger Roman used to spar with sentinels, and the other belonged to Grant.
“Best wishes on a fantastic life together,” Drystan whispered to Roman as he sliced his palm. The pain was intense, but Roman refused to pay it any mind. The sting was forgotten a second later when his bleeding cut was pressed to Grant’s.
He was willingly bombarded with a crystal-clear image of his soul twisting around Grant’s. Two halves of one whole. The moment was everything he’d dreamed of and more. Love for Grant overwhelmed him, and his lip quivered as his tears fell.
“Venerable Knight to Venerable Knight,” Aleksander said. “Their souls are now tied, and their lives are now linked. May their hearts always stay united so they will never want another.”
“Give me a second,” Roman pleaded as he hauled Grant into his arms. He held him as Grant clutched at his cloak. Their guests were forgotten as Roman thanked Fate for the man in his embrace.
“I love you,” Grant whispered.
“Oh, I love you too, baby. So very much.”
Roman reminded himself he could have Grant to himself later, so he sucked in a deep breath as his heart overflowed with emotion. Pulling away, he offered Grant an apologetic smile as he straightened the wreath on his head.
“Okay, let’s do the next part,” Roman insisted.
“For shifters, an essential part of a matebond is the bite, but long ago they lamented that it left behind no mark. To proudly display their love and pride in their mate to the world, they started a practice of wearing rings. Today, every D’Vaire follows this tradition, and Roman and Grant are no exception,” Rafe stated with a soft smile as he glanced at Aleksander. “The beautiful bands they will now exchange were designed and crafted by our extremely talented Madeline.”
Albrecht and Brynnius joined Roman and Grant. They were each handed a wide band, which was a swirl of black, silver, blue, and the vivid green of Grant’s eyes. On the interior of the ring was the blue-black of Aleksander and Rafe’s dragon—a hallmark of every piece of jewelry exchanged by D’Vaires on the day of their matebond ceremony.
Roman slid the ring onto Grant’s trembling finger. “Chosen by Bétea and Fate, and accepted by my heart as true, I accept you as myv’airsell niolland mate.”
With a quiver in his voice, Grant repeated the words as he pushed a matching band onto Roman’s hand.
“The Vampyr Clutch has a glorious practice of wearing collars—or necklaces, as they are called outside vampire circles. Although Grant and Roman will not use the words sacred to the vampires, they honor their tradition by binding the locks with blood,” Aleksander said. “Lich Sentinel Alaric Daray and Arch Lich Chander Daray will present the lovely necklaces while Rogue and Pizza Daray will assist with attaching them.”
It was an unconventional choice to ask Alaric and Chander to include the rascally goblins the Arch Lich had gifted his mate, but as soon as Roman and Grant had thought of the idea, they couldn’t find any reason not to include the tiny guys.
Pizza and Rogue were dressed in sentinel-like uniforms in charcoal gray and the reds, yellows, and oranges of their favorite food. The pair raced to Roman and Grant and without an invitation climbed up their cloaks to stand on their shoulders, ready to aid Alaric and Chander however they could.
Since Roman couldn’t see Rogue on his own shoulder, he kept his gaze pinned on Pizza. The sun glinted off his black dragonskin-like body as Chander went to place a necklace on Grant once Roman’s mate had bent his knees to accommodate the shorter imp-necromancer hybrid. Pizza made a series of chirping sounds, and Chander frowned.
“You can’t do it by yourself,” Chander hissed.
“Play nice, Chand,” Alaric drawled.
Although Pizza protested heavily with his chirpy grunts that Roman didn’t have any clue how to interpret, Chander helped the small goblin place the silver chain on Grant’s neck. Pizza insisted on holding the necklace as Chander nicked Grant’s finger with the same poisoned blade that had united their souls.
Alaric wore a pirate smile as he forcefully touched the blade to Roman’s poor finger. Grant and Roman smeared their mixed blood onto the face of the lock stamped with the Venerable Knight shield. The necklaces had been so beautifully replicated by the Fae leaders, and now they were sealed. If they, for any reason, ever wanted to remove them, they’d need to use their blood again, otherwise they were impossible to open.
“Come on, we’re done,” Chander said to the goblins.
Pizza didn’t look happy about it, but he allowed Chander to pluck him off Grant’s shoulder. As for Rogue, he chose to teleport to the ground and scurried off toward his seat, using the unconventional route of rocketing between Dra’Kaedan’s legs, and tangled himself in the Grand Warlock’s cloak.
“Menace,” Dra’Kaedan muttered, though he was grinning as he freed Pizza from the thick navy fabric.
“By the tradition of the Draconis High Court of D’Vaire, you are nowv’airsell niollsand mates,” Rafe stated. “You’ve honored everyone present by allowing us to bear witness to your joining.”
Roman rolled his shoulders as he tugged off his cloak and put it into the waiting arms of Benton. Baxter took the matching embroidered velvet garment from Grant while Arvandus and Samson joined them in front of the large fountain with ranunculus flowers floating in it.
Arvandus sliced Roman swiftly, and he was damn glad it was his last cut of the day. Once Samson repeated the process on Grant, Roman slapped his palm to his mate’s.
