The Secret
Page 76

 Elizabeth Hunter

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“I’m ready,” she whispered. “So ready. Please, let me sing to you. It’s time.”
Her mate wrapped his arms around her waist and nodded.
“Sing.”
Chapter Nineteen
VOLUND LIFTED HIS HEAD and raged against the heavens, shattering the frozen valley where he rested. A chasm split the earth, raining water, ice, and mud into the rift that formed beneath his feet.
“NO!”
The blood boundaries were falling. He could feel the power of his old rival’s blood twine within the blessings of the Forgiven.
Jaron was winning.
In his mind’s eye, he saw the black sun rise as light and dark magic melded together. And as the moon’s shadow covered the sun, the light from the stars hidden for a thousand years blinked to life.
“Do not fear the darkness.”
His scream reached the heavens.
MALACHI lay in thrall to his mate. Rising above him, Ava was a vision in the dim room. Her hair damp against her shoulders, her skin dewy from the warmth of the shower and their shared heat. He braced himself, not knowing what to expect. Though he knew some of the traditions—the songs and litanies she had learned—the mating ritual happened only once in a scribe’s lifetime. In this moment, he was as innocent as Ava.
He felt rather than heard when she started to sing.
“My beloved comes to me as the ground beneath my feet
Steadfast and faithful
The heavens direct our path…”
The words of the Old Language rose from her throat, her lips carefully forming the angelic tongue. Halting at first, then clearer as the magic took control of them both. Ancient instinct took over. He pushed the shirt she was wearing up and over her head, desperate to see his own vow written on her skin.
I am for Ava.
He released a breath when he saw it. Part of him was still transfixed every time it appeared over her heart. His finger traced the words he’d written. A memory locked in the black vault of his mind.
For her, my hand and voice.
For her, my body and mind.
Her strength in weakness.
Her sword in battle.
Her balm in pain.
I am hers.
Hers to cherish.
Hers to hold.
Hers to command.
The world around him ceased to exist. There was no city. No war. No angels or brothers or elders. Nothing could distract him from the purity of her voice. Her mating marks gleamed in the darkness as she continued to sing.
“My beloved holds me as the sky holds the moon
Vast and eternal
Our union is without end…”
Ava pushed his shirt up and over his head so they were both bare before the other. Her voice rose and fell as she sang the words legend said were given by the Forgiven to their children. The vows that bound them, not only in this life, but the next.
“My beloved warms me as the sun warms the earth
Sweet and rich
Our love mirrors the heavens…”
He felt the magic swell. The small electric lamp by the bedside flickered out and the only illumination was from the small window and the spells that lit their bodies. Tugged from his chest, the power spread over his skin, lighting his talesm prim, both old marks and new, before it traveled up and over, like a thread of quicksilver under his skin.
Malachi burned for her.
“My beloved is my own
First before others.
Before the bond of kin
Before mother or father
Brother or sister
Before the angelic host…”
He could feel her voice swell, reach a crescendo.
“This day I make my vow
I pledge my soul’s magic to my beloved
In time of joy
In time of grief
In darkness and light
In life and death
This day I promise…”
And Malachi waited to hear the words she would give him, the words he would carve into his own skin in the ritual room, marking his body and heart as hers for all time. The words he would wear for the world to see that his mate had claimed him as her own.
“I promise,” Ava whispered as she wrapped her arms around his neck, “to love you and protect you in every way I can. I will not let fear rule me. I will trust you with my heart and my song.” He heard her choke back tears, and he pressed her cheek to his as she continued. “Because I called you in the darkest night of my soul. You heard me and you returned.” She brushed a kiss across his temple. “You are my home.”
She sat back and framed his face with her hands, looking into his eyes as she whispered, “Da livkara bavatara ma.”
This scribe belongs to me.
The force of the mating spell drew a groan from his throat as it hit him, powerful and sweet. Ava’s magic was blinding light edged in darkness. He closed his eyes as his back arched and the fire burned beneath his skin.
“Ava!”
“Stay still.” She braced her hands on his shoulders as he leaned back and let the power of it wash over him. “Don’t move. I can see them.”
“I can feel them.”
Pleasure and pain roiled in one intoxicating wave as the burning grew. He felt the knife dip into the fire and ink. The doors of memory slamming open in his mind.
Through the searing pain, he felt her. Through the flood, she held him. Her magic lifted him, turning his mind in circles as the invisible knife carved the ancient runes. Over his shoulders and chest. Down his arm and across his back.
“Touch me, Ava,” he groaned. “Please.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”