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The White Day
It was a beautiful Saturday with demurred sunlight glistening on icicles that hung from the eaves of Hampton Manor. From atop the snow-covered roof, billowy smoke rose from her chimneys, lighted windows casting a golden glow and at her feet, cars and SUVs dressed in fluffy white, lined the drive. Snowflakes twirled in hushed silence, falling upon thousands of Iridescents nestled upon the bluff overlooking the river. Cameras flashed, cells held high, all eyes upon three couples standing atop a cedar podium with gold candelabras and crystal steins. Atop a bannistered deck a lone Sirun dressed in black with a red hooded cloak stood with his back to the couples. He slowly turned, his face concealed in secrecy and symbolic of the females’ sacrifice, he tossed red rose petals upon each of them as their betrothed Iridescents kneeled before them. The three Iridescent grooms rose to their feet.
Lisa, Carson and Frankie took their places, kneeling before the podium, loving eyes on the couples.
The Sirun spoke, his words all but quieted by the roaring river. “Do you, Donja, Makayla and Anna, submit as consorts, Donja to Torin—Makayla to Gage—Anna to Antonio?”
“Forever,” their voices rang in unison, cameras flashing.
“And do you Torin, Gage and Antonio accept this blood offering, to watch over, honor and protect for eternity?”
“Forever,” they answered with voices resounding.
“By order of the Iridescent Council, I submit unto you, each couple, our blessings. Heed to our laws, bind your hearts as one and let us all, as Radiant Iridescents never forget from whence we came.” He raised his hands to the heavens, his eyes on the swirling abyss. “Bow to the Chippewa!” he roared as the thousands before him kneeled. “Blessed be the Durent Clan.” he said dropping to his knees.
“Blessed be the Durent Clan,” a thousand voices echoed.
Torin raised Donja’s veil, snowflakes swirling around them. They shared a smoldering look as he leaned in to her lips. She closed her eyes, clutching her silk rose bouquet, his kiss so tender. Her heart fluttered, winds whirling, time a blur.
“I love you,” they whispered with voices as tightly bound as their hearts. He kissed her again, long and hard, celebratory cheers rising from the crowd. He swooped her up, her white pearl gown contrasted by his black tux. Her arms encircled his neck and he kissed her a third time, before marching through a sea of bodies to one of three stretched limos. Inside, as the doors closed the cheers of thousands muffled, he pulled her tight as his lips found hers. “I love you, Mrs. Mancini.”
Donja’s tears fell as she cupped his face with icy hands, a twenty-five-carat diamond sparkling.
He pulled her hands to his lips warming them with his breath. “You’re freezing,” he whispered, opening his tux and pulling her in.
“Mmm, and you’re on fire,” she breathed.
The limo lunged forward and safe in his arms she closed her eyes as watercolor memories washed over her. Chill bumps ravished her skin, eyes on a little puppy in her father’s arms, his laughter, St. Joseph, her friends, goth, a Honda Civic and Silver Beach. She snuggled tighter as Torin stoked her hair, her hands roaming beneath his tux. She listened with her cheek tight to his chest, his heart pounding like a million drums.
“Are you happy?” he whispered, leaning tight with his breath warm on her brow.
She snuggled tighter.
“Don’t toy with me, Donja, you know I can’t read your heart.”
She smiled, his heart strumming mercilessly.
“Look at me,” he said and his voice…she couldn’t resist, she never could. She pressed her hands to his chest and rose up, dark locks spilling upon them. She focused on his lips, so thick and moist, his mustache sparking memories of sensations so intense that even now, she shivered. She raised her eyes, instantly weakened by his smoldering gaze, so dark—so dangerously mysterious.
“Answer me,” he pleaded. “Talk to me baby.”
“What?”
He searched her face with hungry eyes that penetrated her soul. Beguiled, she blinked, lashes fluttering. She felt him tremble.
“Are you happy?” he whispered.
She brushed his lips with her own, then pulled back. “Ask me that in a thousand years.”
“A thousand years?” he asked suspiciously as his eyes began to sparkle and a smile spread upon his face. He pulled her tight and as his lips found her own, he whispered.
“I will.”
The End
