Chapter 5

Time blurs by. One minute, my bride-to-be is in front of me, and vows I had no knowledge of are repeated between us. They’ve cloaked her in gold, with soft fabric hiding her face from me. The only things visible are her gold-coated hands.

Piper. I wish I were strong enough to tell them we can’t do this.

I wish I didn’t want her so badly.

I wish things hadn’t come to this, for her sake.

The next moment, the priests are behind us, their silent, ominous presence weighing as heavily on me as the crown on my brow.

The stairs to the subterranean ceremonial chamber are narrow and steep, the torchlight barely enough to see by—and I bet Piper’s human vision means she can barely see anything at all.

She hasn’t complained once. She’s either in shock, or she is even braver than I thought to give her credit for.

Poor, sweet Piper.

I reach for the gold-painted hand hanging at her side, curling my fingers around hers. It’s so small and cold in my grasp, and I squeeze it gently, hoping to reassure her.

Her hood slips slightly as she glances sidelong at me.

There isn’t a shred of fear in her eyes. Not at all.

What I see there startles me to the point that I nearly miss a step.

She looks angry—angry and determined.

I squeeze her hand again, and that small, delicate smile I can’t get enough of curves the corners of her lips up.

“Are you ready for this?” I ask her quietly. Or, at least, I try to ask her quietly, but the sound of my voice echoes off the cavernous walls, the question repeating ad infinitum.

“I am ready.” She nods, her blue, blue eyes focusing on the path ahead.

I don’t know what I expected. Piper’s always seemed to have a quiet tenacity, an audacious sense of positivity, but she seemed so shy, so sweet.

This is a different side of her, and I don’t know what to make of it.

It stiffens my back, though, to know that she’s so quietly accepted her fate, that she is ready to put aside her own discomfort in an effort to quell the rebellion.

At least we have that in common.

The subterranean ceremonial cavern yawns open below us, firelight dancing off every surface nearly blinding after the darkness of the stairs.

I blink, my eyes adjusting, trying to make sense of what I’m seeing.

“The chamber has changed since I was last here.”

“The ways of the gods are mysterious,” one of the priests intone.

“I spruced it up a little,” another says at the same time.

I stare behind us at them, and Piper’s gold-painted hand covers her mouth, her shoulders shaking as though she’s holding in a laugh.

Her fingers tighten around mine as we finish the descent into the subterranean cavern. Stone statues stare down from the dizzying heights overhead, the firelight creating a smoky haze.

“It’s very warm,” Piper says.

“Underground magma,” the redecorating priest pipes up, sounding only too happy to be of service. “It heats the entire palace. It’s the most sacred thing to the Roth, and what our king has running through his veins.”

“Oh?” Piper says, and there’s a world of apprehension in the single syllable.

“He doesn’t mean that literally.” I lead her to the stone platform that dominates the center of the chamber, the traditional marriage consummation bed. It’s been bedecked in luxurious blankets and pillows, all in the traditional gold-shot red of the Roth monarchy.

My pulse beats a tireless drumbeat, pounding in my ears. The reality of what I am about to do—what we are about to do—is intoxicating.

“Is this where…” Her voice drifts off, and she clears her throat. “Is this the spot?”

“I will be gentle,” I tell her, trying for reassurance, but my own voice comes out on a growl.

All I want to do is ravage her, right here, under the gaze of our watchful and absent gods and all the priests, and not just to solidify my power in the old ways.

Because I want her beneath me, wet, writhing, and open for me. I want her more than anything I’ve ever desired before.

“I’m not scared,” she says, her shoulders back, the golden hood of her sheer cloak lifting as she juts her chin out in defiance. “I’m ready to do what we must.”

Her hand leaves mine, going to the ruby-studded gold clasp at her throat.

My breath stops as the fabric falls away, leaving her naked body bared before me.

I am speechless, awestruck.

Her breasts sway as she moves toward the ceremonial marriage bed, her ass round and begging to be squeezed. The gold shimmer highlights every perfect curve of her body, the muscles of her long legs enchanting me with every step.

“Turn around,” I force out, the words a guttural command.

She turns at the edge of the bed, her sky-blue eyes wide and guileless.

“Not you.” I face the masked priests. “You. All of you. Turn around. You will be here for the consummation, as the old ways dictate, but no one sees her like this but me.” The words grind out of me, and before I can master my emotions, fire lashes around me, flames dancing across my skin.

The priests nod solemnly, as one, but the feeling of victory is short-lived, because when I turn to face my lovely human female, her expression is full of fear.

Of me.

Of my flames.

Her naked body shudders as she hoists herself onto the platform. The gold paint on her skin rubs off on the fabric there, leaving a glittering trail behind her as she shakes.

I am flooded with shame and misgivings once again, the energy-manipulated fire bleeding away as the negative emotions take over.

An apology, an explanation, starts to come out of me.

And then Piper does something that astonishes me, that has me hard as a rock for her.

She spreads her legs wide, her delicious scent filling the air, and she crooks a finger at me, beckoning me to join her.

I am helpless to resist.