Page 149 of The Cerulean Sister
I am flooded with his amber glow. So much that I have to cling to him so I don't fall off the side of the little bed.
Our link is stronger somehow, so intense I can barely keep my eyes open.
"How are we tethered?"
"Calliape . . . ward."
I'm a little breathless as he runs his hand up my collarbone to the base of my neck.
"Permanent?"
"Yes."
"I would have lived our whole lives not having our tether again and still loving you the same, but I've missed the feeling of you consuming me," he groans and holds me tighter.
We breathe in tandem for a long time savoring the bliss our tether creates when we are intertwined like this.
His lips brush against my ear and then he takes a large breath inward like he is about to speak.
"Clive," he whispers deeply into my hair.
It doesn't register so I wait, holding space for him to say more, but then I realize what he has said. Stunned, I turn to face him, looming over where he remains comfortably lying on his back. "Your name was Clive?"
He closes his eyes when I say the name and nods.
I say it a few more times in my head and he smiles, likely hearing me through the tether. "I thought you had to wait until after the ceremony?"
"For me it was complete the moment you said yes. Tomorrow when the fleet arrives, look for me, Priestess, and you will see just how much I want this union."
Chapter
Thirty-Nine
The Viathan fleet is arriving.
Crixa calls for every elder and high priestess who has been chosen to defend the stones to the temple for ritual. She anoints us with oil and casts a protection prayer over our order.
I run through the motions with my priestess sisters, biting the side of my cheek as Crixa runs sacred oil down my forehead with her fingertips. She whispers ancient words as she does, praying for protection against our foes and reluctant allies.
How am I supposed to stand before her and pretend like she is not responsible for my mother’s death, for hundreds of others dating back years?
She is the center of all that is wicked in this place. She infects the way the priestesses of old wanted this order to be, twisting it for her own gain.
I am surprised at my own willpower to keep calm with her so near, to be able to look her in the eye and not give away just how much hate is being pressed down within me. I have to do this for Leema, go along with this charade for just a little longer even though what I thought was the bottom of Crixa’s well of cruelty goes even further than I could have ever known.
We walk in a tight line through the Estate in silence, torches burning high to light our way. The moment we step out into the courtyard, my eyes are blurred by the darkness, desperate to adjust.
The sun should be in the midst of a radiant sunrise, but the light is only a tiny sliver fighting to illuminate our world, no brighter than a room with a single candle and just as eerie.
The slow, tolling bell and ripping wind are a constant backdrop as we cut across the courtyard in formation.
I follow my priestess order in front of me, staying close. We have been instructed to cast our eyes down, to not look above at the Viathan ship as it lands, of the great number of commanders that will spill forth from it. But I cannot stop myself from looking out into the massive space where another Viathan ship will land as we enter the Estate's landing dock.
Estate guards stand impossibly straight, holding torches along the walls that touch the Estate building, stopping halfway, a clear boundary of where we end and the Viathans begin.
The lord general, 99, and the rest of the commanders who have been stationed here since the coup stand on the other side of the giant courtyard.
99 looks more Viathan than I have ever seen him, almost unrecognizable.
