Magical Lover (37 page)

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Authors: Karilyn Bentley

BOOK: Magical Lover
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“I do.” Keara looked Thoren in the eyes, smiling at the love she found in his gaze. Her mate. Forever.

Annaliese clapped her hands together, her normally calm face exploding with excitement. “A mating ceremony! I love the mating ceremony. It’s so touching. I’ll go let Aryana know.” With that she disappeared.

“I should do the same. Go that is.” Alviss pecked Keara on the cheek. “I’ll see you at your mating.” He disappeared in the time it took her to blink.

“You will mate with me?” Thoren’s face was a mask of pure joy as he looked at her.

“I said I would.”

“So I’m forgiven?”

“I didn’t say that, dragon. I love you and I’m more than happy to mate with you, but I don’t want you thinking you can hide important things from me.”

Thoren lowered his gaze. “I was wrong. I just didn’t know what I would do since I couldn’t continue doing my job.”

“I don’t understand why not.”

“Only unmated males are reconnaissance specialists.”

“Then why don’t you work for the Council? Maybe they have an opening.”

Maybe that was the wrong thing to say seeing how Thoren stared at her like she grew a third eye. Without warning, he grabbed her in a tight hug, pulling her against his chest.

“I’m so glad you’re mine. Are you all right? Do you mind if I leave for a bit? I need to take care of some things before the mating ceremony.”

“Wait a minute. The mating ceremony is today?” Her squeaky voice was an embarrassment, but that’s what happened when a female found out her mating day was today and by the feel of things, her hair still had leaves in it.

“Of course it is. It’ll be held at sundown as is normal.”

“What do I need to do?” How could he possibly expect her to be ready in time? She still felt weak. But weakness wouldn’t stop her. She wanted him like a parched throat desired water.

“All you have to do is show up. Repeat the words back to the priestess.”

“What words?”

“She’ll tell them to you. I’ll let the rest be a surprise, but it will end in a joining.”

“I know that. Wait. No one else sees this joining, do they?”

“What kind of voyeurs do you think we are? Of course not. The joining happens in private.”

Keara exhaled a breath she didn’t realize she held. “So—”

“Ah-ha! The soon-to-be mated pair.” Aryana and Annaliese popped into the room, excitement in their eyes. Aryana walked to Keara’s side and waved her hand at Thoren. “Shoo. We need to prepare Keara for the ritual. Go do something else with yourself.”

Thoren kissed her, a quick buss on the lips that left her aching for more. Tonight. Tonight she’d have all of him she wanted.

“See you later, love.” The air shimmered where he sat, condensing with a small pop as he disappeared.

Aryana placed a hand on Keara’s arm. “Are those leaves in her hair?”

Annaliese peered closer. “We have a lot of work to get her ready for tonight.”

“Come along, Keara. The day’s half over and we haven’t even started working on you yet.”

Hustling her out of bed, the two priestesses shuffled her into the bathing room.

It looked like she’d be ready for her mating day after all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 20

 

Keara stood to one side of the altar in the chapel and stared at the stained glass windows lining the room. Heat rose in her cheeks. Were those really pictures of dragons in intimate poses? In front of the Goddess’s altar? Not that she was a prude, but she still had a lot to learn about Draconi culture. A grin crossed her lips as she thought about the looks of mortification on the faces of her grandmother and the priests in River’s Run if they saw pictures like these hanging in the Goddess’s chapel.

Good thing they weren’t here.

Although, to be fair, she wouldn’t mind her grandmother being present for her mating ceremony.

Thoren smiled and the reality of the situation slammed into her. Today she took him for a mate. Until she died, he would be hers. Someone who accepted her completely, without reservation. Someone who thought her magic was wonderful. Someone she loved more than life itself.

Never in her wildest dreams had she thought to find a mate. And yet here she stood in front of Draconi witnesses and intimately posed dragons to prove to all she belonged to Thoren and he to her.

Thoren’s gaze raked her body as heat gleamed in his eyes. Even she had to admit Annaliese and Aryana had done a wonderful job dressing her.

After washing her three times in perfumed waters, they rubbed her skin with oils until she felt like a piece of meat prepared for consumption. Which, judging from the look in Thoren’s eyes, wasn’t too far from the truth.

She smoothed her palms over the green fabric of her dress. The nicest dress she’d ever had the privilege of wearing. Made of silk, the dress’s long sleeves hung in points past her wrists and left her shoulders bare to the cool breeze circulating in the chapel. A girdle woven from gold hung about her waist and a circlet of yellow and blue flowers sat on her head.

It might be vain, but she knew she looked good. Thoren winked at her and her heart knocked against her ribs.

His black hair hung freely about his shoulders, thick and straight, begging for her fingers to run through it. His tunic was green silk, matching her dress and he wore black leather pants that hugged his finely sculpted arse and thighs. He rolled his shoulders back and Keara felt wetness between her legs. One side of Thoren’s mouth curved into a grin. Did he smell her arousal?

If her face got any hotter, someone would need to throw water on it.

A squeak of hinges, followed by a rustle of fabric, sounded from behind the altar, and Keara turned, seeing Aryana glide through the door. Dressed in her finery, the High Priestess looked liked a beautiful handmaiden of the Goddess. Her black hair hung in a straight line to her waist, her face a mask of perfection.

Good bone structure. Keara giggled at the thought and then clamped her lips together. What a thing to think of on her mating day. How nervous was she? Amazing how she wanted to mate with Thoren more than anything and yet she apparently had a case of nerves.

Aryana held out her hands as she faced them. Thoren placed his left hand in Aryana’s right one. When Keara didn’t move, Aryana wiggled her fingers indicating Keara should do the same. Keara grabbed the priestess’s outstretched hand with her right one. If she needed to hold hands, someone should have explained that earlier.

As long as she got Thoren in the end, she didn’t care.

“We are gathered today to witness the joining of Thoren, son of Balthor and Moira to Keara, descendant of Alviss.” Aryana placed Keara’s hand in Thoren’s. “Do you Thoren, take this female for your mate?”

Thoren squeezed her hand. “I do.”

“And do you Keara, take Thoren for your mate?”

Did she ever. “I do.”

“May the Goddess shine her pleasure on your joining and bless you with many offspring.” Aryana pulled a red ribbon from a hidden fold in her dress and wrapped it loosely around their wrists. “With this ribbon to symbolize your joined blood, I present your union to the witnesses here.”

Thoren’s family, Alviss and Annaliese stood up first, clapping, the rest of the witnesses following. Thoren belonged to her now. Keara let a happy grin plaster her face as Thoren’s and her family surrounded them. Even Jamie managed to come, hobbling around on his recently mended leg, proclaiming to anyone listening that Thoren and Keara were adopting him. Hugs and names were given, compliments on her dress and hair spoken, fingers touching the silk of her gown. A veritable whirlwind of family and friends rushed around her, pulling her into the vortex, accepting her as one of them.

Wasn’t life grand?

****

While waiting for the tipsy priestess to refill their wine glasses, Thoren watched his mate laugh with his mother, the two females chatting like they’d known each other forever. Waiting to have her alone caused an ache between his legs that no amount of shifting squelched.

“I’m leaving.”

Shifting might not squelch his erection, but Enar’s words withered the thing right up.

“Leaving?”

Enar stood beside him, arms crossed. “You know, that thing you do when you depart one place for another?” Thoren closed his eyes and shook his head. When he opened them, Enar had a half-grin in place. “I’m taking my woman home.”

“No more missions for you?”

“None. I’m your Watcher. Since I’m assigned to you, if you stay, I stay. No more missions.”

“What will you do?”

Enar shrugged.

“I’m going to sit on the Council—”

“Holy altars, Thoren. What were you thinking? Oh wait, you obviously weren’t.”

Thoren shook his head. “Just because you don’t like the Council doesn’t mean I don’t like it. It gives me a chance to work at a job that I enjoy. It’s close enough to going on missions that I’ll enjoy myself. Maybe you can join me.”

“When dragons prefer staying on the ground instead of flying.”

“You might like it once Viktor leaves.”

Blue fire flashed in Enar’s eyes. Not that Thoren blamed him. The word “bastard” didn’t go far enough in describing Enar’s father. “As I said, I’m leaving tomorrow.”

Always the master of avoidance. “I wish you and your woman well. Know that you’re always welcome in my home.”

Enar thumped him on the back and Thoren returned the hug. Thoren watched as Enar walked to where Lily stood by Keara and Moira. He might not have a seer’s precognitive abilities, but he knew Enar’s path would lead the Watcher back to him. It was the how of that knowledge that would prove interesting to watch.

Not that it mattered now. One glance at Keara and he wanted to seal the mating ritual, wanted to join with her, to bond with her, wanted to claim her as his. How long did it take a tipsy priestess to pour two glasses of wine?

“Thoren!”

Thoren stiffened at the sound of his father’s voice. For so long tension existed between them, he barely remembered a time when he had been close to Balthor. His father must be pleased that he had found his mate, yet the ceremony ended awhile ago and this was the first time Balthor sought him out.

“Father.”

“Your wine,” the priestess giggled as she thrust two glasses into Thoren’s hands. Perfect timing.

“I know we’ve had our differences.”

Thoren forced his raised eyebrow to lower.

“And I wanted to apologize for it. I shouldn’t have rushed you into finding a mate.”

Of all the things his father could say to him on his mating day, this took the prize. What was he supposed to say? No harm done?

“I...thank you for admitting it.” Was that the best he could come up with?

Balthor laid a hand on Thoren’s arm. “I’m proud of you, son. Never forget that, even if I huff and puff at you.”

“Thanks, Father. I’m heading over to Keara now.” He raised the glasses.

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