Page 20 of Atop the Faerie Throne
Kitarni moves so she’s kneeling above my head. The brush returns briefly to the bowl, collecting the shimmery paste and then returning to land on my face this time. “Goddess bless your lips, that you may speak gently to one another.”
This close to my nose, the herbs are all I can smell. The scent is close to rosemary, but sweeter with a bitter undercurrent I can’t name.
“Goddess bless your ears, that you may truly listen and seek to understand each other when faced with discord. Goddess bless your eyes, that you may always see a way forward together, even in dark places.”
She has to dodge the band of Lore’s cap as she traces the final spiral across my forehead, but once she’s done, I’m tingling from head to toe.
“Goddess bless your mind, that you may enter into this joining with clarity and pure intent.”
The brush and bowl are discarded, and Kitarni helps me to stand.
“Are you mating these males of your own free will?” the dryad asks, her dry, bark-covered fingers firmly clasping mine.
“Yes,” I whisper, unwilling to speak too loud and break whatever spell the blessing has woven over me.
The dryad beams. “Come on, then. It’s time.”
To saythat it feels odd to walk into the main temple in little more than a floaty lace robe is an understatement. It’s even weirder to let it fall away at the door. I suppose it’s a measure of how far I’ve come since I stepped foot in Faerie that I don’t fidget or attempt to cover myself as we approach the rounded stone altar.
Danu is silent in my chest, and my guides are completely absent.
There’s no one here besides Kitarni, my Guard, and me, and I like that more than I thought I would. My heart seems to beat a little faster with every step of my bare feet across the ice, and my wings tremble with nerves.
I can’t even look up, so I trace the frost ferns across the floor with my gaze instead. My breathing is shallow but somehow also deafening.
What if this is the wrong choice? What if I pressured them into it? What if Caed doesn’t want this? I told Jaro to ask—trusting the wolf shifter not to pressure him—but if he goes along with it and then…?
“Rhoswyn,” Kitarni murmurs from beside me. “Look at them.”
Like her permission is all I needed, I glance up.
Silence, pure and complete, pours over my thoughts, like someone came and kidnapped every single wayward doubt, leaving onlythem.
My Guard is gathered around the altar in the centre of the room, just as naked as me. My eyes meet ones of chestnut brown, amber fire, piercing green, bright scarlet, andfinally luminous turquoise, and my shoulders softens as I find absolutely no hesitation in any of them.
The circumstances that led us here are inconsequential.
They want this. I’ve craved it for months. Finally, it’s happening.
Kitarni helps me climb up to lie across the stone, caught in the middle of the five of them. My hands flutter awkwardly, unsure what to do, until the high priestess takes them and folds them gently below my breasts.
This is hardly the first time any of them have seen me like this, but I still feel so exposed. The heat in their gazes helps a little, but this isn’t a physical vulnerability—it’s an emotional one. In a few minutes, our souls will be bared and bound even tighter than they already are. What if they don’t like what they see?
“Kneel,” Kitarni orders. “And recite your Oath.”
They drop as one, and I shiver without their eyes to warm me. A second later, the air heats a little. Drystan’s consideration melts the knot of anxiety balled in my chest.
“My Nicnevin has called, and I answer. I pledge my body, my magic, and my soul to the protection of Danu’s beloved daughter. All that I am is hers. I forsake all others and swear to guard her with my life for as long as she reigns. She is all.”
I’m not crying. It’s just… I’ve never heard the oath in its entirety before, and my chest aches as I realise they had enough faith to swear this all those years ago, even though they knew nothing about who I’d become. Kitarni swipes the tears away discreetly as she kisses my forehead.
“May Danu bless and protect you all.”
She crosses to a low table in the corner, retrieving a tray with five daggers, and then carries it around the altar clockwise, allowing each of my males to take one. There’s a secondof tension when Caed accepts his, but he doesn’t make any aggressive moves.
His position on my left gives me a clear view of the tattoo on his arm.
That’s when I see it.
