Page 71 of Full Moon
Chapter 33
Easton
Seeing which dress Feray picked,I dig through the suits I brought with me. I have a black silk tunic with gold and red embroidery. Hand-sewn phoenixes in flight adorn the black silk. I stare at it and draw in a deep breath. It’s the tunic of the prince of the fallen Dusk Court. The same court the basilisks now control because they killed off my entire species by turning them to stone. My diadem rests in my pack, a single gold circlet with a blood ruby in the center. Ornate gold feathers adorn the sides, the eyes of the feathers resting on either side of the ruby.
A soft rapt sounds at the door, and I turn to look at it. “Enter.” The door swings open, and it’s Diaval. He joins me, looking at what I picked out, and rests a hand on my shoulder. He knows how tough it is for me to expose where I came from and who I used to be.
I take a moment to steady myself, feeling the weight of my past pressing down on me. Diaval’s presence is a slight comfort, a reminder that I’m not alone in this. The room feels charged with unspoken memories, the air heavy with the scent of old wood and the faintest hint of incense.
“Are you sure about this?” Diaval’s voice is low, almost a whisper, as if he’s afraid to disturb the fragile peace we’ve found.
I nod, my eyes never leaving the tunic. “It’s time,” I say, though my voice wavers slightly. “For Feray’s sake, they need to know who I am. Who I once was.”
Diaval squeezes my shoulder, his grip firm and reassuring. “Then let’s show them,” he says, a hint of determination in his tone. “Let’s show them the might of the Dusk Court.”
I take another deep breath, feeling the familiar fire of resolve igniting within me. The basilisks may have taken everything from me, but they haven’t taken my spirit. I am the last prince of the Dusk Court, and tonight, I will wear my heritage with pride. Diaval helps me get ready, ensuring not a hair is out of place as he sets the diadem upon my head. I swear the thing weighs more now than it did a thousand years ago. “There’s only one reason I’m doing this,” I whisper as I move to stand before the mirror.
“A royal marriage and mating will trump anything they might say. You’re keeping our mate safe the best way you know how to,” Diaval says, making one final adjustment to the diadem.
“Do you have the rings?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. I entrusted him with the magical wedding bands I had forged. Each band contains something from each mate and Feray. We had discussed in secret with the guys the possibility of me having to expose myself for who I truly am. They were in shock, which was to be expected. I explained in depth why I hid my true identity. Khal confirmed my worst fears. The basilisks have my family and friends on display throughout the old castle. One day, I would like to burn it to the ground.
“I do. You know she’s not going to be thrilled about having to put you over everyone else,” Diaval says, palming the rings.
Nodding, I motion to the door. “We need to get started before the sun gets much higher.” Diaval leads me out into the main part of the house, and my breath catches in my lungs. Feray looks ethereal; the crimson and gold of the gown makes her hair look like it’s on fire. She turns, and her eyes widen as she sees me looking regal.
“Oh, my.” Her breathy tone makes me smile, and I bow at the waist to her.
“Allow me to formally introduce myself.” I pause for dramatic effect as I stand tall. “I am Prince Easton Alexander Bennu, the last Prince of the fallen Dusk Court.” I bow only slightly this time in Feray’s direction, and she drops into a curtsy, lowering her head and eyes to the floor.
“Your highness...” She remains low until I come to stand before her and place the side of my index finger under her chin to raise her gaze.
“You bow to no one, Feray, not even me. Your kingdom still stands, and we are going to reclaim it together.” I help her stand up and hold both of her hands.
“To further strengthen your claim to the throne and to negate court protocols, I’m going to marry you and Easton,” Diaval says, and just as he finishes the sentence, Feray gets ready to protest.
“We were already made aware this may need to be done,” Torben says with a smile. “You have my blessing as first mate.” He steps forward, kisses Feray, and then shakes my hand.
“My species totally dicked Easton’s family over. The very least I can do is give my blessing for my mate to marry her other mate to secure her birthright,” Khal says playfully, then kisses Feray next.
“Now that, that’s out of the way, let’s get the show on the road,” Diaval announces, holding the rings out in front of him in his open palms. The blackened metal catches the light, gleaming with an otherworldly promise. He starts the ceremony in Old Draconic, his voice resonating with power. With each syllable that escapes his lips, the rings glow brighter, pulsating with a magic that makes the air around us hum with energy. This is no ordinary blessing. It’s an enchantment that will bind the rings to us, allowing them to shift with the wearer.
As he finishes the incantation, Diaval smiles, the glow from the rings illuminating his face. He offers each of us a ring, his eyes twinkling with ancient knowledge and something akin to pride. “This isn’t a typical marriage where I am expected to forge a bond between the two,” he says, glancing between Feray and me. “Since the bond already exists, and this is more a formality than anything else. I will say, please place the ring on each other’s fingers.”
Taking Feray’s hand, I slide the band onto her left ring finger. “My flame, I will love you even when the stars don’t shine and the sun turns to dust. Forever isn’t long enough.” I raise her hand and kiss her band, feeling the warmth of the ring against my lips before lowering her hand gently.
Feray looks at the ring on her finger and smiles, her eyes shimmering with emotion. She then takes my hand and slips the band onto my left ring finger. “I will love you longer than the years I am gifted, when we are both but legends in books and oursongs fade from the winds.” She raises my hand, mirroring my gesture, and kisses my ring.
Diaval steps forward, his presence commanding our attention. He grips both rings between his thumb and index finger and speaks in Old Draconic once more. The band’s heat, and a sudden, sharp pain radiates from the ring to my fingertip, then up to my wrist. I gasp, looking down to see a dragon mark forming. It’s a frost-like pattern running down my ring finger, then up to my wrist, intricate and mesmerizing.
Feray gazes at her own mark, a look of wonder on her face. Hers resembles my tail feathers, delicate and unique. “It’s beautiful,” she says, raising her hand to admire the marking. The air around us crackles with residual magic, binding us not just in matrimony but in a bond forged in the very essence of our elements.
“Now that we have that out of the way, let’s get going,” Diaval says, motioning towards the door.
Diaval and Khal exit first, followed by Feray and me, with Torben bringing up the rear. “They’re scared,” Feray says as she loops her arm through mine. The heat radiating off her is incredible. It’s easily in the single digits outside, yet she walks around with just a thin ornate shawl over her shoulders.
I found a heavy winter cloak to throw over my shoulders to keep the cold at bay. The path to the alpha house is a straight line from where we are. The snow falls in large, fluffy flakes around us, making it look more like a fairytale. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch the faint glow of Feray’s eyes as she moves. Villagers step out of their homes and bow as we pass, sensing who Feray is.
“You’re doing very well. How do you feel?” I whisper to my mate and kiss her cheek.
