18. Callista

18

CALLISTA

T he air is thick with the scent of incense as I stand beside Dagon in the dimly lit chamber, the flicker of torches casting long shadows across the stone walls. His presence is commanding as his large, muscular arms brush against mine. My heart races at the gravity of what I'm promising him today. Me in my entirety.

I glance up at Dagon, his features etched with the brooding gruffness that is so much a part of his allure. Despite his propensity to be an asshole, bordering on cruel, my heart thrums with an unyielding affection for him. He's a demon, powerful and feared, and yet, here he stands, ready to bind his life to a human he once thought beneath him.

"Are you ready?" he asks. The deep timbre of his voice reverberates in my chest.

When he made his declaration that I would be his mate, I was unprepared, thinking that he was going to force me. But the more I turned it over in my head, the more right it felt.

I guess in a way I've always belonged to him from the first day he took me.

"I'm more than ready," I say with a smile. My voice is husky and low making him smirk at me, those crimson eyes, warming my entire core.

We both turn our attention back to the front as the ritual begins. The demons in attendance are chanting something I don't quite understand, and it makes me feel uneasy and very aware of my humanness standing here before them. But with Dagon at my side, a sense of safety settles over me.

I glance at him, his towering presence both intimidating and familiar. His dark, brooding eyes are fixed on me, a hint of the storm that always seems to swirl just beneath his surface.

I remember the first day he cornered me, the rough way he pressed me up against the wall in his house, his large, commanding hand encircling my throat. He had asked for my name, his voice a low rumble of danger and intrigue. Even now, the memory makes me clench my thighs

As we stand before the ancient demon who presides over our bonding, Dagon shifts slightly, his hand brushing mine. His fingers are capable of such delicate tenderness and brutal control, a duality that I've come to crave. The darkness in him that once sparked fear now ignites a fire within me.

"Dagon," I whisper, turning slightly to face him amidst the ritual. Our eyes lock, and there's a silent understanding that passes between us, a mutual recognition of the journey we've endured to stand here together.

He leans closer, his breath warm against my cheek. "Callista," he murmurs back, the sound of my name on his lips sends a shudder through me.

"From the moment you took me, I've battled with the reality of what we are, what this means."

"And what have you decided we are, Callista?"

His question hangs in the air, and for a moment, I lose myself in the depths of his dark eyes. "We are an inevitability," I reply. "We are the chaos of the storm and the peace of the aftermath."

When the ceremony reaches its peak, the elder calls upon us to seal our vows with a token of our bond. Dagon reaches into his cloak, producing a small, intricately carved box. He opens it to reveal two rings, forged from the rarest metals on Galmoleth.

As he slides the ring onto my finger, his other hand lightly caresses the nape of my neck, fingertips pressing just enough to remind me of that first potent encounter. My breath hitches, and I'm transported back to the alley, to the fear and exhilaration, the beginning of everything.

"Who do you belong to?" Dagon's voice is a whisper now, filling the chamber, heavy with authority and desire.

"You," I respond, my voice steady yet filled with emotion. "Only you. "His eyes soften for a moment, the harsh lines of his face relaxing as he leans in, his breath warm against my ear.

His thumb traces a gentle line over my pulse, where my heartbeat races under his touch. "I belong to you," he asserts, his declaration not of submission but of equal commitment. "And don't you fucking forget it," he whispers, his tone both a command and a vow.

The elder's voice booms through the chamber, deep and resonant, carrying the weight of centuries. His eyes, glowing faintly in the dim light, fix on Dagon and me as he commands the final ritual to seal our bond.

"Approach," he instructs, motioning us closer to the altar that stands covered in relics and symbols of ancient power. The stones beneath our feet whisper of old, forgotten magics as we step forward, hand in hand, facing each other with the elder between us.

"Now," the elder continues, his voice echoing off the stone walls, "you must speak the words to each other, words that will bind your souls. Declare your bond, your promises, and your dominion over each other."

Dagon's eyes never leave mine, his gaze intense and unyielding. He takes a deep breath, and when he speaks, his voice is a soft growl filled with unspoken promises and dark, thrilling secrets.

"Callista," he begins, his hand coming up to gently cup my cheek, his thumb caressing the skin there. "I take you as mine. You are the chaos that matches my own, the fire that fuels my darkness. I vow to protect you, to dominate you, and to cherish the power you surrender to me. You are mine, as I am yours, bound by blood and soul."

The intensity of his words sends a shiver through me, echoing the depth of our bond. I reach up, my hand finding his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my palm.

"Dagon," I reply, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions whirling within me. "I accept your vow. I give myself to you, not out of weakness, but from the strength of my own will. You are the darkness I choose. I vow to stand by you, to challenge you, and to submit to the reign you hold over me. Together, we are bound."

The elder nods solemnly as he observes our exchange, his eyes gleaming with ancient wisdom. "With these vows, you bind yourselves not only to each other but to the fate you will share. Whatever may come, remember this moment, the words spoken, the promises made."

He then turns to the gathered witnesses, raising his arms high. "I now pronounce you bonded mates."

As his words settle over us, Dagon leans in, his hand moving from my cheek to wrap gently around my neck, his grip firm but affectionate. His lips meet mine in a kiss that seals our vows, a perfect melding of power and surrender. The room erupts around us, the cheers of demons celebrating our union. All I can feel, all I can know, is Dagon my demon, my mate, my chosen darkness.