Page 66 of Burned to Obey

Tears blur my sight. “I claim you, Saru, not for survival, but because I choose you above all.” My voice quivers, but I project each word to the watchers.

The crowd murmurs, some in awe, some in tears. Davor stands near the front, blinking rapidly with a small grin. Amuka lifts her blindfolded face toward the sky. “Zukiev’s blessing is given,” she proclaims. “Let none deny the vow of House Rhek’tal and his chosen mate.”

Saru folds me into an embrace, ignoring any formal ending. The watchers break into cheers or respectful applause. My heart pounds so violently I wonder if he can feel it. We cling to each other for a moment, tears mixing with laughter, relief floodingevery muscle. The brand that once condemned me now stands as a symbol of shared purpose.

Gradually, the ceremony concludes, the priestesses chanting a final benediction. Servants move to guide guests toward a reception hall. Others approach to offer congratulatory bows. I remain in Saru’s arms, dazed by the significance. His strong hands caress my back, horns brushing my hair. In that hush, I sense the weight of the vow that changes everything. We no longer fear the Senate’s blade or Thakur’s poison. We stand with Zukiev’s flame at our backs, forging a union beyond any forced code.

At last, we step away from the altar, entering a side chamber of the estate. Inside, there’s a modest private space where the vow can be sealed in quiet. My heart flutters as we stand alone, parted from the crowd. He draws me to a broad window overlooking the sea, the horizon a vast expanse of shimmering blue. The wind rattles the shutters.

He turns to me, a faint trembling in his breath. “We’re free,” he says. “No Senate decree can claim you now. Our vow is recognized by goddess and Bastion both.”

I press my palm to the brand, tears forming again. “And you’re no longer forced to carry me as a prisoner. I stand with you because I want to.”

His horns tilt close. “Yes,” he murmurs. “It changes everything. We can leave the Bastion if we choose. Or remain to ensure it never again threatens your life. We shape our path.”

I let out a shaky laugh, stepping into his arms. “We have time to decide. For now, let me feel this moment.”

We share a soft kiss, the fresh bandages under his tunic reminding me he’s still healing. I carefully loop my arms around his neck, ignoring the faint ache in my bruised ribs. The vow’s energy thrums in my veins, and though the day’s ceremony was public, this private hush feels more intimate. We’re not justWarden and brand now; we’re lifemates forging a future far from the Senate’s meddling.

He brushes tears from my cheeks, voice hushed. “I remember the day I forced the brand on you, how you looked at me with hatred. Now, I see love in your eyes.”

I swallow thickly, tears slipping. “I never thought I’d call a minotaur my mate, that I’d accept any vow. But you proved me wrong, over and over.”

He huffs a breathless laugh, pressing his forehead to mine. “You taught me too. That redemption comes from forging trust, not just from some old code.”

We stay that way, hearts beating in tandem, the window’s breeze ruffling our clothes. A muffled call from outside signals guests awaiting us, likely wanting to hail the new union. I almost protest—I need more time with just him. But Saru’s tail flicks, resigned. “We should greet them, if only to quell rumors.”

I nod, leaning back. “Yes. Then maybe we can escape to the cliffs, find a quiet corner by the sea.”

His eyes warm. “We will. I want you to see the cove near the estate’s base, where I spent my youth swimming.”

We share a playful grin, promise shining in our expressions. Then we exit, weaving through corridors to join a modest reception—some Bastion officials, loyal guards, even a handful of senators who grudgingly acknowledge our vow. I sense admiration and curiosity swirling. Whispers remark how I was once a prisoner, now declared Saru’s lifemate. But none challenge us openly, not with the brand recognized by Zukiev’s sign.

Food and wine appear, though Saru sips water, mindful of his healing wounds. I take a few bites of spiced meat, hunger overshadowed by adrenaline. Davor approaches, bowing. “Congratulations,” he says quietly. “You’ve changed the Bastion’s future by this union. The staff all talk of it.”

I exchange a glance with Saru. “We only want to live without fear,” I say. “If that changes the Bastion, maybe it’s time it changed.”

Davor smiles, stepping away to let others greet us. Eventually, we slip out to the cliff’s edge, where the wind whips stronger. The sea churns far below. Saru stands at my side, cane abandoned. We watch gulls soar. My veil gown has been replaced with a simpler robe for the gathering, but the memory of those layered veils lingers, a testament to each step that led me here.

He draws me near, speaking above the wind. “I can’t wait to see what life we make. Whether we remain here, oversee the Bastion’s transformation, or roam the seas. You’re free, and I stand with you.”

I turn to him, brushing my lips across his chin. “I choose this. I choose you. That’s all that matters.”

He squeezes my hand, horns dipping in silent agreement. For a moment, we watch the waves crash, salt spray rising. The estate behind us hums with subdued celebration, but we stand apart, forging a new vantage. My brand prickles, not with pain but with a comforting sense of belonging.

As the sun descends, painting the sky in pink and gold, we walk back toward the estate’s entrance, greeted by the warm glow of lanterns. The day’s vow stands unshakeable. In the hush of twilight, servants guide us to a suite overlooking the ocean, where we can rest without fear of Senate edicts. He helps me over the threshold, the faint ache in his leg overshadowed by contentment. Inside, a wide balcony beckons, offering a final view of the sea as night falls.

I linger by the rail, letting the breeze caress my face. Saru moves to my side, arms circling my waist. We stand in silence, hearts full. Far below, the waves shimmer under moonlight. It feels like the end of one story and the beginning of another,where we decide our own destiny, not defined by brands or forced codes.

He presses a gentle kiss to my temple, voice echoing the rawness I feel. “Naeva, lifemate. Are you ready to shape a future beyond the Bastion’s shadows?”

I smile, tears slipping unashamed. “Yes. With you, I’m ready for anything.”

Bathed in moonlight, we wrap ourselves around each other, letting the weight of the ceremony soak deep into our bones. For all the trials we’ve endured, this union stands as proof that what started in chains can end in choice. Tomorrow, we’ll navigate whatever remains—dark elf intrigue, Senate politics—but tonight, we stand free, wreathed in the memory of Zukiev’s golden flame, sealing our vow under open skies.

20

SARU

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