Chapter 26 The Ceremony
~Sage~
"Stop squirming," Natalie commanded, dumping another pitcher of rose-scented water over my head. "You need to smell like a garden, not a gym."
I was sitting in a copper tub filled with water that had more flowers floating in it than an actual garden. The ceremonial bath, apparently, required half the palace's rose bushes to be sacrificed for the occasion.
"I think I'm sitting on a thorn," I complained, shifting uncomfortably.
"That's just the dried lavender stems. They're supposed to promote fertility." Natalie paused, then added with a wicked grin, "Lots and lots of fertility."
"Fantastic," I muttered, sinking lower into the water. "Because that's exactly what I need to be thinking about right now."
The truth was, I was trying not to think about anything. Not about the elixir that would probably kill me in two hours. Not about Keith being forced to watch. And definitely not about the fact that my last bath might involve me smelling like I'd rolled through a perfume factory.
"Head back," Natalie ordered, pouring oil through my hair that smelled so strongly of jasmine I sneezed.
"Is all of this really necessary?" I asked, wiping water from my eyes. "I mean, if I'm going to die from the elixir, does it matter if my hair is shiny?"
"Don't talk like that," she said firmly, but I caught the glint in her eyes. "Besides, you need to look perfect. The entire pack will be there."
"Great. An audience for my potential death. How thoughtful."
She smacked the back of my head lightly. "Stop being dramatic."
"I'm about to drink a potion that killed a prisoner in three minutes. I think I'm entitled to a little drama."
Natalie's hands stilled in my hair. "You heard about that?"
"You told me about it literally five minutes ago."
"Oh. Right." She resumed scrubbing my scalp with unnecessary vigor. "Well, that prisoner was actually sleeping with his best friend's mate, so... you know, totally different situation."
"Totally," I agreed weakly, thinking about Keith's hands on my skin, his mouth on—
"Time to get out," Natalie announced, holding up a towel. "We need to start on your makeup, and at this rate, we'll need about three hours just to cover those dark circles under your eyes."
"Thanks for the confidence boost."
As she helped me out of the tub, I caught sight of myself in the mirror. My skin was pink from the hot water, and I had a rose petal stuck to my forehead. I looked less like a Luna Queen and more like a drowned flower arrangement.
"Sit," Natalie commanded, pointing to the vanity. "And try not to move. I'm about to perform miracles with concealer."
For the next hour, I sat perfectly still while Natalie transformed me into someone I didn't recognize. My hair was braided into a crown. The makeup was dramatic. It was dark kohl around my eyes, lips painted deep red to match the ceremonial dress.
"Speaking of the dress," Natalie said, pulling out what looked like a very expensive handkerchief. "Ta-da!"
I stared at the scrap of blood-red silk. "Where's the rest of it?"
"This is it."
"Natalie, I've seen bandages with more fabric."
"It's traditional," she said, helping me into it. The dress, if you could call it that, clung to every curve and left very little to the imagination. "The Alpha King wants to display his prize."
"Display is right," I muttered, tugging at the neckline. "I'm pretty sure this violates several public decency laws."
"Stop pulling at it, you'll tear the silk." She stepped back to admire her work. "There. You look..."
"Like a sacrifice?"
"I was going to say 'regal,' but sure, let's go with sacrificial lamb."
The reality was setting in. In less than an hour, I'd be drinking that elixir. And despite Natalie's attempts to distract me with jokes, we both knew what had happened to that prisoner.
"Natalie," I said quietly, as she placed the crown of silver in my hair. "If something happens—"
"Nothing's going to happen."
I wished I had her confidence. Keith and I might not have had sex, but what we had done... would the elixir care about technicalities?
A knock at the door made us both jump.
"It's time," a guard announced.
Natalie squeezed my shoulders. "Remember, chin up, shoulders back. Look like a queen, not like you're heading to your execution."
"Even though that's exactly what this might be?"
"Especially then. Never let them see you sweat." She paused. "Although with all that oil in your hair, you're going to be glistening anyway."
The walk to the great hall felt surreal. The guards flanking me looked straight ahead, their faces stern. I wondered if they were placing mental bets on whether I'd survive the elixir.
The doors of the great hall loomed before me, and I could hear the murmur of hundreds of voices beyond them. My heart was trying to beat its way out of my chest.
The doors opened, and every head turned toward me.
The hall had been transformed into something out of an ancient nightmare. Torches instead of regular lights. Black silk draping everywhere. It looked like someone had decided to combine a wedding with a funeral and wasn't sure which one would be needed.
At the altar, Damon stood in ceremonial robes that probably cost more than most pack members' houses. And beside him...
Keith.
He was dressed in formal black, his face completely expressionless. But I saw the way his hands clenched when he saw me. The way his jaw tightened. He looked like a statue trying very hard not to crack.
I walked down the aisle on legs that felt like jelly, trying to look regal and not like I was about to throw up from nerves. Which I was.
When I finally reached the altar, Damon took my hand, pulling me closer. His cologne was overwhelming, like he'd bathed in it.
"You look exquisite," he murmured, loud enough for the front rows to hear. "Good enough to eat."
I managed not to grimace.
"Tonight," Damon announced to the crowd, his voice booming, "we honor the old ways. My chosen mate will prove her loyalty through the ancient trial of the bonding elixir."
The pack seer shuffled forward, and I mean shuffled. She had to be at least two hundred years old, wrapped in white robes that had probably been white about a century ago. In her gnarled hands was a crystal vial.
She fixed me with eyes that were uncomfortably sharp for someone who looked like they should be in a nursing home.
"Sage Donovan," she croaked, "do you come to this bonding pure of body and faithful of heart to your intended mate?"
I felt Keith tense beside his father. My throat was so dry I could barely speak.
"I do," I managed.
The seer held out the vial. "Then drink, child. And let the old flavour judge your truth."
My hands shook as I took the vial. The liquid inside was warm and seemed to move on its own, swirling like liquid rubies.
This was it. The moment of truth.
I raised the vial to my lips, caught Keith's eye for just a second, and drank.
It tasted like pennies soaked in battery acid with a hint of cherry cough syrup. I forced myself to swallow every drop, even though my body wanted to reject it immediately.
I handed the empty vial back and waited to die.
One second. Two. Three.
My stomach churned, but not in a dying way. More in an 'I just drank something disgusting' way.
Ten seconds. Twenty.
The crowd started murmuring. I was still standing. Still breathing. Still very much not dying.
The seer raised her arms dramatically. "The elixir has spoken! She is judged faithful!"
The relief hit me so hard I actually swayed. Keith moved slightly, as if to catch me, then stopped himself.
Damon's expression was masked as he studied me. Then his lips curved into a smile that made my skin crawl.
"You see?" he said to the crowd. "My chosen mate is pure. All doubts are now laid to rest."
He pulled me against him, turning me so my back was to his chest, displaying me to the pack like a trophy.
"And now," he announced, brushing my hair aside to expose my neck, "the marking."
"Keith," he said, and I heard the cruel amusement in his voice. "Come hold the Queen's hands. We must follow tradition perfectly."
Keith moved like every step hurt. When he stood in front of me and took my hands, I could feel the tremor in his grip. Our eyes met, and I saw his barely controlled anguish.
I felt Damon's breath on my neck, hot and possessive. His canines extended, pressing against my skin.
"Mine," he growled. "Forever."
His teeth began to pierce my skin, and I bit my lip to keep from crying out. But just as the sharp pain started—
Damon made a strange choking sound and jerked back.
I felt his body convulse behind me, and then he was stumbling away, his hand over his mouth. His face had gone pale, then green.
"Father?" Keith said, releasing my hands.
Damon tried to speak, but instead, he turned and vomited spectacularly all over the ceremonial altar.
The great hall erupted in gasps and shocked murmurs. The Alpha King, the strongest wolf in the territory, was on his knees, retching like he'd been poisoned.
"The seer!" someone shouted. "Get the healer!"
As chaos erupted around us, Keith moved closer to me, his voice inaudible over the commotion.
"Are you hurt?" he asked, his fingers ghosting over my neck where Damon's teeth had barely broken the skin.
"No," I whispered back, watching as three healers rushed to attend to Damon, who was now dry-heaving. "I'm fine. What's happening?"
Keith's expression was carefully neutral, but I caught something in his eyes. Not surprise. More like... satisfaction?
"I don't know," he said. "But it seems the ceremony will have to be postponed."
As they carried Damon out on a stretcher, still retching, I noticed the seer watching us with those uncomfortably sharp eyes. She smiled, just slightly, and I could have sworn she winked.
Then she shuffled away, leaving me standing there in my ridiculous dress, unmarked and unmated, with Keith beside me and the entire pack in chaos.