Blood Ritual I

The women ignored my comments of outrage, simply putting on the thick gloves again. They picked up the silver chains and held them up.

"Don't forget this," the women said, and they proceeded to cuff me once more. My arms were now behind my back, and I could only bristle at the indignity. I couldn't even adjust my own clothing now!

"Is this necessary?" I pleaded, but it fell on deaf ears. They marched me outside the pack house, and my heart jumped to my throat.

Please let it be empty! I couldn't bear more people seeing me dressed like this than necessary. 

Only when I had set foot out of the house they had kept me in did I exhale the breath of air I hadn't even realized I had been holding.

It was a full moon tonight. The silvery moonlight cast its glow upon me, the effects seemingly able to even heal the cracks and burns in my skin that had been the aftereffects of the silver chains. Even though I knew it was nothing more than a placebo, the sensation was still gratifying.

All of it shattered the moment they ushered me forward, further and further into the woods.

Dash the prayers I had about there not being anyone, it was quite literally the opposite. Hundreds and maybe even thousands of people had gathered in the forest clearing, patiently waiting by a makeshift wooden stage where the Valentine Brothers stood.

Even in the dark of the night, Damon's blue eyes seemed to glow. There was a huge distance between us and yet, despite that, I could still see the shine of his irises trailing after every movement. Blaise Valentine did the same, wearing a cocky smile as he did the same.

When I got close enough, he let out a low whistle, his eyes staring fixated at the cleavage of my breasts which had been out for the whole world to see.

"The dress fits you perfectly," he commented, grinning appreciatively.

"Lingerie," I corrected scornfully. "This isn't a dress."

"Be glad we even gave you anything to wear," Damon said heartlessly. He pulled me up on stage without warning, practically tearing me out of the hands of the women who had escorted me over. The fabric fluttered higher around my body, giving everyone below a free peek at my ass.

Once on the stage, I had a clearer view of the crowd. Tiny specks of heads lined row after row, trailing as far as the naked eye could see. The moment I turned to face them, they burst into chaotic commotion, noise rippling through the crowd and only ceasing when Damon spoke next.

"Silence!"

As per his command, all of the wolves of Fangborne quieted down. Even the sound of crickets and owls could be heard, noises that had been overshadowed by the pack members previously.

Damon pushed me in front to the center of the stage. Where I stood, the silver glow of the moonlight cast down perfectly on me like a spotlight.

"Fangborne," he said, his voice carried by the wind and echoing through the clearing as though it was blasted with a speaker. "I present my mate, Harper Gray of Stormclaw."

The crowd erupted in a mixture of cheers and boos. Some waved and clapped while others shook their heads and shouted. I watched as Damon's lips slowly turned up into a smile, matching the one his twin brother wore on his face.

"Or at least―" As soon as Damon spoke, his pack members quietened down again so that they could hear what he had to say, "―what's left of it."

This time, the crowd burst into a unified thunderous applause. The combined voices of hundreds reverberated through the air, creating a wall of sound that seemed to shake the very ground beneath. Some had even begun to scream, all of which were words that I could hear crystal clear.

Words that told me just how much they 'welcomed' me around their pack lands.

"Go back to Stormclaw, scum!"

"Useless rogue!"

"Is this what the ceremony is?" I growled, sharply turning back as much as I could to glare at Damon. "Just to torture and shame me in public?"

"Of course not," Damon replied. He pulled me into his grasp, his bare hands clamping down on the silver chains as though it didn't even hurt him. I stumbled back into his hold, his hand moving to my neck, gently squeezing― it wasn't enough to choke me to death but enough for me to not dare to try struggling.

One wrong move and he could easily snap my neck before I could even blink.

"You're my mate," he whispered into my ear, his warm breath fanning across my skin, causing my goosebumps to rise. "They're just here to watch, as per tradition."

"Tradition?"

Behind us, a huge flame suddenly burst to life. The flames roared and crackled, sending flickering tongues of fire into the night sky. The intense heat washed over us in waves, warming my skin and prickling with an almost tangible energy.

There was something in the fire. I didn't need a wolf's nose to smell that. Between the smell of smoke and the burning wood, there was a strange, fruity smell mixed into the haze. It didn't take long before my knees felt weak and my vision started to blur.

"What… What is in that fire?" I asked, my words slurred.

Damon ignored my question, stepping aside so that Blaise could take his place. I was just about to ask what they were up to when I felt a sharp slice across the palm of my hand. 

Hissing in pain, I gasped in shock, trying to turn back to look. However, the scent in the air was only getting stronger. It seemed like I was also the only one that was affected by it as well.

Blaise came forward and only then did I notice the bowl in his hands. A small pool of blood was in it, catching the glint of the moonlight. Damon, too, stepped forward. He placed the blade to his hand, slicing it where I was cut open before he allowed his blood to be dripped into the bowl and mixed with mine.

"What are you two doing?" I asked. My eyelids had gotten heavy and I was already struggling to keep them open.

"A ritual," Damon answered calmly. He gave his hand a firm shake, squeezing out the last few drops. His gaze then swiveled to me, looking at me from the corner of his eye. "To ensure your obedience."