Page 109 of Feral Gods
Zephyr and Ravik await us there, deep in conversation that pauses as we enter. Something in their posture—a mixture of solemnity and barely contained excitement—suggests this discussion involves more than routine sanctuary business.
"There you are," Ravik greets, amber eyes warming as they meet mine. His transformed indigo form reclines against cushions beside the hearth, wings folded comfortably behind him. The rigid military bearing that once defined his everymovement has softened into something more balanced—still powerful and commanding, but tempered with newfound capacity for relaxation and even occasional playfulness.
"We've been discussing something of significance," Zephyr adds, scholarly precision colored by uncharacteristic emotional undertone. His slate-blue hands cradle an ancient text I recognize as one recovered from the temple sanctuary months ago—not the Codex, which remains securely hidden, but something almost as rare.
"The Bonding Codicum," I identify, recognition sparking as I settle beside Ravik while Thane takes position completing our informal circle. "You've been researching binding ceremonies?"
A slight flush darkens Zephyr's transformed features, scholarly composure momentarily disrupted by emotional vulnerability that still surprises me despite our months together. "Research initially undertaken for academic purposes evolved toward practical application consideration," he admits, typical verbal complexity betraying nervous excitement.
"He means he started reading about ancient mating ceremonies and realized we should have one," Thane translates with characteristic bluntness, though his crimson eyes glimmer with affectionate amusement.
"Not precisely how I would phrase it," Zephyr protests mildly, "but essentially correct in principle."
Ravik leans forward, amber gaze intent as it meets mine. "We four have forged connection transcending conventional definition. Created family through choice rather than circumstance. Built sanctuary that shelters not just our physical forms but our collective spirit." His words emerge with careful precision, each clearly chosen with deliberate intent. "Yet we've established no formal recognition of this bond."
Understanding blooms within me—warm, radiant, and slightly overwhelming. "You want us to marry," I translate,simplifying scholarly complexity and strategic formulation into emotional essence.
"Not marriage as human custom defines it," Zephyr clarifies, scholarly precision reasserting itself. "Something more fundamental. The Bonding Codicum describes ceremony predating dark elf civilization—ritual that connects participants at essential level transcending conventional relationship structures."
"Soul-binding," Thane contributes, surprising me with his knowledge of magical theory typically left to Zephyr's expertise. "Formal acknowledgment of connection already existing between us, but strengthened through ceremonial intent."
My heart beats faster as I absorb their proposal. My former life as slave in King Kres's household never permitted contemplation of formal bonding—marriage or otherwise—with anyone, let alone three extraordinary beings who together form perfect complement to my own nature.
"The ceremony requires unanimous consent," Ravik adds, careful to establish my agency in this decision. "Equal participation freely chosen, without coercion or obligation."
"And offers option for any participant to maintain partial rather than complete binding," Zephyr continues, ensuring I understand all possibilities. "Individual autonomy preserved within collective connection, if desired."
"Or complete integration, if chosen," Thane concludes, crimson eyes holding mine with characteristic directness. "Full commitment without reservation."
Their perfect cooperation in presenting this proposal—each contributing distinct perspective while maintaining unified purpose—exemplifies why this decision requires no deliberation on my part. The connection between us transcended conventional boundaries long ago. Formal ceremony merely acknowledges what already exists in essence.
"Yes," I answer simply, emotion making elaborate response impossible. "Complete integration. No reservations."
The joy that illuminates their transformed features Ravik's rare full smile, Zephyr's glowing turquoise eyes, Thane's wings mantling with pleasure—fills my chest with answering radiance that threatens to overwhelm.
"When?" I ask, practical considerations emerging through emotional haze.
"Tonight," Ravik suggests, uncharacteristic impetuousness replacing strategic calculation. "The celestial alignment favors binding magic—twin moons in harmony phase, constellation of union ascending eastern sky."
"Tonight," I agree, matching his unexpected spontaneity with my own. "What preparations are required?"
Zephyr consults the ancient text briefly. "Minimal physical components—sacred herbs for purification, water from our crystalline pool for cleansing, personal tokens symbolizing individual essence freely exchanged." His scholarly detachment falters slightly as emotion resurfaces. "The ceremony emphasizes intention over elaborate ritual—genuine commitment matters more than procedural complexity."
"Refreshing change from magical workings requiring precise astronomical alignment and dimensional manipulation," Thane observes dryly, referencing our resurrection ritual with characteristic irreverence that masks deeper feeling.
Preparations proceed with efficient harmony that characterizes our shared life. While Zephyr and Ravik arrange the ceremonial space before our dwelling—a natural stone circle overlooking the valley's central pool Thane accompanies me to gather required components from our garden and surroundings.
"Second thoughts?" he inquires as we collect sacred herbs beneath deepening twilight, his perception missing nothing despite casual demeanor.
"None," I assure him, reaching to trace the strong line of his transformed jaw. "Only wondering what twist of fate or divine intervention brought me to that specific temple on that specific night, when all other paths led to continued slavery or likely death."
His powerful hand captures mine, pressing my palm more firmly against his face. "Not fate," he counters with surprising certainty. "Choice. Your courage seeking freedom despite overwhelming odds. Your resilience surviving wilderness journey that would have defeated lesser beings. Your compassion awakening something in us beyond vengeance and rage." His crimson eyes hold mine with fierce intensity. "Never doubt you earned this happiness through your own strength, Kaia."
His words penetrate layers of lingering insecurity I hadn't realized still existed—remnants of slave conditioning that whispered I deserved nothing, earned nothing, existed only through others' tolerance. The truth in his assessment washes through me like cleansing flame, burning away final vestiges of that former existence.
"Thank you," I whisper, stretching upward to press my lips briefly against his. "For seeing me even when I couldn't fully see myself."
His answering kiss contains no restraint—passionate claiming that would have frightened me once but now feels like coming home. When we finally separate, both slightly breathless, his crimson eyes gleam with promise for later celebration.
