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The ritual is slightlydifferent from the one Adrian performed with Nelle and me, seeing as there are five of us this time. Kyros slices across each of our palms and instructs us to clench our hand into a fist, letting the droplets of blood drip into a bowl. I ignore the sting of pain as the blade slices across my palm and fight off the instinct to heal it immediately.
Kyros chants in the same strange language Adrian used. I still can’t understand the words, but I’m entranced by the way they flow together, lyrically knitting together in a symphony of sound.
Finally, he slices across his own palm with no reaction whatsoever, making me grateful that I hid my own wince of pain. I can’t have these men showing me up now, can I?
He hands the blade to Adrian, Kyros’ lilting words continuing as he dips a single finger into the bowl, mixing the blood together. I extend my palm eagerly when he steps forward, seeing the hesitance in his stride. I have to show these men I’m all in, and wipe away any thought they may have that I’m unsure of this.
I knew as soon as he revealed his plan what my answer would be, my mind replaying my stomach sinking when I realized they could all communicate with each other in that special way, leaving me on the outside. I’ve wanted this for a while now, wanted to be on the level with them, but I was just unsure how to voice it, knowing it would be unfair for me to demand such a thing after I ran away.
Kyros smiles broadly, highlighting his cute dimples. He smears the blood across my open wound before moving onto the others. My breath catches in my throat as I observe each of my mates eagerly accepting the mixture onto their own palms, accepting this new facet of our connection to one another.
Kyros chants as he swipes the blood over his own palm, and only then does the force of the power build around us, coating every inch of my skin before sinking into my bones.
I breathe a sigh of relief that I hear echoed around me, as though a missing piece has finally found its place, nestling deep into my soul. Warmth fills my chest at the rightness of it all, knowing that I’ll have them with me no matter what. They aren’t walking away, and neither will I.
“You alright, angel?”Adrian’s voice echoes through my mind, and I jolt at the new sensation. My hand flies to clutch my forehead automatically—thankfully the non-bloody one—and I’m frozen in my wonder for a second before flashing over to Adrian.
I actually heard him in my mind. The newness of it all has caught me off guard.Hello? Can you hear me?I think, unsure how to make this mind link thing work. Can they hear all of my thoughts or just ones I think really loudly?
“We can’t hear you, little mate.”Mateo’s voice sounds in my mind now, followed by a chuckle. But, if he can’t hear me, how did he know that I was trying to speak to him? Oh—only now do I realize I’m squinting at them as I attempt to focus my thoughts.
I blink a few times and smooth out my brow, feigning a look of nonchalance that is met with a chorus of chuckles, this time out loud.
“Well, how do I do it then?” I ask snidely and cross my arms over my chest, chagrined by their notice.
“You should have felt a piece of our essence pull into your body. Focus on that and project your thoughts down to us,” Kyros explains, sympathetically. I huff out a breath of annoyance. I don’t want their pity. Sheesh, how am I even supposed to know that?
“Well, this is all your fault,” I decide to tell them, my tone indignant. “How was I supposed to know that?”
I don’t wait for them to answer. Instead, focusing on them in my mind, feeling that piece of their essence filled in by the ritual and project my thoughts to that
“This was supposed to be sweet and romantic, and you all ruined it.”I huff mentally, really hoping it went through this time. I glance around the room, seeing their faces light up, despite my scathing remark.
Before I can get a word in, Mateo grasps my hand, pulling me into him. I inhale sharply at the abrupt movement, just as his lips crash onto mine. He presses me against his hard chest, and I lift a hand to rest against his pecs, the muscles bunching under my touch. His kiss is hard and demanding, devouring me completely as we fight for dominance.
“Is that romantic enough for you, little mate?”He projects in my mind, and I groan at the sensation of the added closeness to our passionate kiss.
“We can do sweet and romantic.”Adrian projects next, and I swear I can hear the mischievous grin in his tone despite his voice only sounding in my head.
I’m abruptly pulled away from Mateo, and I barely register his growl of protest before Adrian’s mouth is on mine. I don’t even need to look to know he’s wearing his signature grin. His tongue trails over my bottom lip, and I moan into his searing kiss. I want his tongue against mine.
But before that can happen, I’m turned again, and Maximus is staring down at me.
“You’re ours,”Maximus growls in my mind. His massive hand clutches my back possessively, his kiss stoking the building fire in my stomach as he consumes me.
A hand wraps around my arm, gently tugging me out of Maximus’ hold. Kyros’ tousled curls hang over his forehead as he stares down at me.
“You’ll get through this trial, you’ll come out on the other side victorious, and I promise there will be more romance than you can handle.”Kyros projects in my mind with so much vindication, I have to believe him. My limbs melt at his words, even before his soft lips meet mine, our bodies molding together as his mouth moves against mine.
We part reluctantly, and I exhale a deep sigh of frustration at the loss of contact. But like Kyros said, after the trials, there will be nothing left to keep us apart, nothing left to pull our focus from one another … except the secret I keep under lock and key in my mind.
I will my face to remain the same, not showing the grimace I want to form and force a smile onto my face, trying to will my mind back to where it was just moments before. “Let’s do this.”
* * *
We dissipate backout to the vast field from the first trial. The council had already made preparations for the final trial, completely transforming the expansive grass space. Given what happened at the second trial, my father decided having students in the stands wouldn’t be a good idea. There is a very real possibility something will happen today, regardless of the preparations we’ve taken.
Guardians line the entrance to the field, their gazes assessing the distance, watching for any sign of an attack. They’re clad in their leather armor and sport an array of weaponry strapped to their sides, their large white wings tucked against their backs.
