Page 83 of Given

There were no words of love. No mention of affection.

After we said our vows, Laurent stood and placed a black circlet of woven night-blooming roses on my bowed head. Petru stepped forward with another priest at his side. The High Priest dipped his thumb in a small golden bowl and touched it to my forehead. The scent of blood hit my nostrils.

“Rise, Given, Queen of Nor Doru. Wife to Laurent, King of Nor Doru and Vessel of the Sacred Blood.”

I stood. Laurent brought my hand to his lips. He kissed my knuckles before turning me to face the crowd. He looked out over the throng and raised his voice. “My queen, Given of Nor Doru.”

“Given of Nor Doru!” the crowd shouted as one.

The Sanctum erupted in thunderous applause.

Relief poured through me. It’s over. I’d done my part, and it hadn’t been bad at all. Now I could relax and look forward to the feast.

As the crowd continued to cheer, Laurent kissed my knuckles again. “One more thing to do, my sweet.” He made eye contact with Petru and gave a slight nod. The High Priest gestured to the robed men around him. They moved toward a small, open doorway behind the altar.

“Come,” Laurent said, tugging me in their wake.

My pulse leapt as I allowed myself to be led. “Where are we going?” Behind us, the nobles kept applauding.

Laurent said nothing. Just laced his fingers more tightly with mine and pulled me through the door and into a second, smaller room. This one held another altar. But there was also a strange-looking platform with a canopy. Sheer black curtains hung from all four sides, not quite obscuring the interior. The priests gathered around it.

But there were also women. Their heads were completely covered. Their black robes were cut close to their bodies, and black veils covered their faces. The material was sheer, though, allowing me to see their features.

Priestesses. I didn’t need to ask. It was obvious what they were. The Quiet Ones from the Wastes. Unlike the priests, they took vows of celibacy and silence.

My steps faltered. “Laurent…”

He turned in a swirl of black mantle. His expression was indecipherable, but his hand on my jaw was gentle as he cupped my chin. “This is necessary, Given,” he murmured. “Do as I say and it will be over quickly.”

My stomach lurched. “What’s necessary? What is happening?”

His thumb pressed over my lips, stilling my questions. He held my gaze and spoke softly. Deliberately. “The ceremony is not over. I know you’re unfamiliar with our faith. I’ll remedy that, but for now I need you to cooperate, because this is important. You vowed to obey me. Your duties start now.” He released my face but kept hold of my hand. My options were to let him pull me toward the altar or dig in my heels and make a scene. The latter would only earn me embarrassment. Laurent might be my husband now, but he was still the king. I was his guest before. Now I was his subject.

Numbness stole over me as we rounded the end of the platform. Inside the curtains lay a bed with a white sheet stretched over it. That was it.

But it was enough. There was no ambiguity about what this was.

My blood ran cold, then hot. The priestesses arranged themselves around the altar, which was covered in the same red candles as the one in the main part of the Sanctum. But there was also a bleached white skull—and obviously a vampire skull with its long fangs. Red wax dripped down the obsidian like slow-moving streaks of blood.

The urge to flee was overpowering. My muscles tensed, and I half-turned, almost managing to twist my hand from Laurent’s grip. But just when I might have run, two priests moved behind me. One was the giant who had tried to stop me from entering Laurent’s chamber.

The rest surrounded Laurent and began removing his clothes. He held my stare as they worked, stripping him with nothing but the sputter of candles and the whisper of cloth filling the room. Slowly, he was revealed to me. He was smooth and golden everywhere, his muscled body a work of art. Most men looked smaller without clothes, but he was the reverse. Broad shoulders led to a chiseled chest and taut abs. His ribs tapered to a trim waist and muscular thighs. He was beautiful, his eyes like polished metal as the priests untied and unbuttoned and unpinned. He was completely bare between his legs, and it was both unexpected and deeply alluring.

He was fully erect, his shaft rigid and tipped with a broad head. Moisture glistened at the tip.

My face heated…and the heat spread everywhere, winding its way through my limbs and leaving me trembling.

The priests retreated behind the platform. Then the priestesses came forward, and my stomach did a violent flip.

My turn.

One of the women circled me and began undoing the long line of buttons that ran down my back. Two others knelt before me in puddles of black robes. They were young, their faces lovely under their veils. One lifted my skirts to my waist while the other removed my shoes. I flinched when her fingers moved to my thighs and untied my garters, her knuckles brushing my skin. I’d been attended by servants my whole life. Dressed and undressed and bathed. But never had I been nude in the presence of strangers…or men.

And the priestesses weren’t preparing me for a bath. Laurent and I were going to mount that platform…and then he was going to mount me.

My clothing took longer to remove than Laurent’s, but the women seemed in no rush. Their touches were light and gentle, and the swish of their robes was strangely soothing. One gathered my hair and held it to the side so the priestess behind me could undo the last of my buttons.

Laurent’s gaze never left mine. It became a lifeline—twin pools of silver I wanted to dive into.

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