Page 40 of Impaled By His Omega Prince
Pallosar sank onto one knee and allowed his page to attach the ceremonial chains, ones that would one day be fitted for Lumic.
Over the flame, Lumic stared at Askara, the dark flame sending flickering shadows over Askara’s beatific face. The alpha’s eyes lit with the silver of stars and moon; his smile as wide as he could contain. It was all Lumic could do not to sob at how much he loved the alpha.
My children, behold before you Askara, son of Lyrica, Queen of Liaberos. He will bring unto you blessings of bounty. He holds a key to vitalis, as does Prince Consort Virion of Drashil. But what is more, he will bring unto you salusis, the night sister to vitalis. I will heal the ill in the name of Croatens for all that would partake of my blessings.
Collective gasps spread about. The goddess spoke to Croatens for the first time in generations, and she promised to bring blessings. Lumic’s heart swelled as Askara glanced toward a window to catch the glint of the moon before carrying his gaze back. Tears glinted in his eyes, and Lumic knew he would lose his composure soon.
In Drashil, they pricked one another’s tongues and kissed to exchange blood, but new traditions needed to be set for Croatens. A goblet of weak wine trembled on the dais, the light of the candle making the liquid appear inky black.
Pallosar waited for the moon to speak, to instruct him.
Hold the goblet beneath Lumic’s chin,she commanded, and Pallosar lifted the delicate crystal where in but a blink, a single tear made the journey down his cheek to drip into the wine, sending a silvery sheen across the surface.
Likewise, she ordered Pallosar to take a tear from Askara, and in a brilliant flash, the single tear blessed the entire cup. Where before it had been an inky black, at that moment, it flared a brilliant silvery gold.
Where Askara is vitalis, Lumic bears the weight of his ancestors, and together, they will heal the sick to come. Drink.
Lumic took the first few sips and Askara took the goblet, drinking deeply with throat-bobbing swallows to finish it off. It tasted sweet like vitalis always did, saccharine, but with a hint of floral notes that vitalis never held. Honey versus nectar.
The low-lying nausea that Lumic had nursed since he’d returned from the castle seemed to fade away in but a few breaths as the first salusis healed him.
For Askara’s part, he winced and squared his shoulders, his breath faltering.
From the slightly parted neck of his shirt, Lumic could see the slaver’s runes etched onto his flesh aglow as they sank into his skin, never to hold Askara back again.
Be united, alpha and omega, as we sisters intended. As sun and moon meet, we complete the day, and as alpha and omega meet, they complete the heart. But your greatest gift is yet to come. I present you two as future kings of Croatens, the land of my forgiveness. Where no omega will suffer.
Blessed be Askara, son of moon and song. And blessed be Lumic, son of love and forgiveness.
And to Alluin, who hath sired my chosen son, I impart this final gift.
Lumic couldn’t contain the grin that stretched his face as he turned and extended both hands to the crowd. Alluin staredin horror, mouth agape like some sort of holly trout as Lumic extended his index and middle finger of both hands and curled them into the fickle fingers.
The flame’s flickering shape guttered and went out with a curl of smoke that drifted into nothing as the crowd erupted into boisterous laughter at Alluin’s expense.
“I honor this union.” Pallosar grinned and Alluin grudgingly nodded as if he did so, too. The creeping scarlet over his cheeks did not abate, rather grew fiercer as Nemiah and Virion daintily clapped.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Askara
Piles of flashpine carved with thalmic skill lay neatly to the side of a dilapidated estate that was rumored to have once been a temple and home for clergy. It had been a cannery at one point, grain storage, and many other things, leaving a rather strong foundation, but little else of the charm it would have once held.
Askara placed his hand on the cornerstone of the building and channeled his thalms through the structure, searching for faults. So much had been instinctual, and Virion had helped him a great deal before heading back to Drashil with his mate and child. Something strange resonated west, the surge of his power echoing back with a twisted ring to it. “The west wing’s second floor has rotted joists.”
Stonemasons climbed the inner structures and carpenters by trade in peace times and warriors in war, found themselves happily bringing the temple back to some semblance of glory. Many wanted to bring the temple to specifications first, but Askara knew his mother’s desire to preserve the fairer sex was far more than her own vanity. With any luck, just after harvest, they’d be able to bring the first omegas and children in. Not that some weren’t already on the way. Alluin had been dutiful in his promise, if not too enthusiastic to have the poor males evacuated.
Unsure of what else to do, Askara rummaged around for the building plans and took a blacksteel saw, comparing the specifications of timber needed with the raw beams they’d milled and brought in. He wasn’t very skilled, but he was strong and could use his thalms to push. Each beam needed to be a certain length and then notched. While Askara was confident in his ability to enchant a saw and cut through the tough wood, hewasn’t sure his skill at cutting the mortise and tenon joints, nor the half-lap until a carpenter could assure him the dimensions and how to keep a consistent measure without the rope length they’d given him.
As flying was a skill needed to see to certain exterior features of the building, most of the males worked shirtless, strong backs bearing avian wings flitting from one parapet or truss to the next. The original construction was made of flashpine, as had been Croatens tradition, but the wood had worn in places and had a woolworm infestation at one point. Thankfully, the critters had been a victim of a plague year and died before too much could be done. The existing beams that had survived untouched were coated in flashpine sap they’d carefully steamed from the sawdust remnants of their efforts. Without decades of age, the sap was toxic to anything that tried to subsist off it.
Askara picked up a single beam and hoisted it across two sawhorses that had been painstakingly leveled to the work area and left with a length of rope for him to measure. He picked up the saw he kept around, measured the beam, squared the edge, and lined up the blade. With thalmic energy like Askara possessed, it was a bit explosive and lacking in finesse. The things he could do were heavy-handed, so when the saw creaked with the power running through it, he thrust the blade and drew it, creating his divot. Sparks flew as sawdust rained down; the motes of dust lit like fire rained down unmarred until the unnecessary chunk of beam fell to the floor.
One of the artisans would be by later to collect the endpieces. Sufficiently steamed and kilned a certain way, the wood could be hand carved and made delightful little toys.
Kershai flew down from the roof, his pale flesh glistening with sweat as he stretched and yawned. “Haven’t worked this hard in many years. The only reason I keep up with swordplay isto make sure Pallosar has something pleasant to look at. I dare to think I’ll be spoiling him now.”
Askara had been fighting hard for years and had the lean muscle earned from it, but he had to admit, what had happened to his arms, Lumic enjoyed. Though, it wasn’t quite polite to say so to his father-in-law. “This strains different muscles than I am accustomed to.”
