Chapter 11 The mating ceremony
I watched his back as he turned and walked out of the library. The door closed with a heavy thud, leaving me in a silence that felt heavier than before. My throat burned. I had wanted to speak. When he told me I was safe, when he told me I was no longer with that Alpha, a part of me had screamed to say "Thank you."
But the silence was a habit I had worn like armor for eleven years. My tongue felt like a lead weight in my mouth, glued to the roof of my palate by a decade of fear. I reached up and touched my throat, wondering if the voice Calus spoke of was still truly there, or if it had withered away from disuse. I wanted to tell the King that I wasn't choosing this silence to defy him—I was just a prisoner of my own lungs.
A soft knock at the door startled me. I jumped, pulling the wool garment tighter around my shoulders.
The door opened, and Elio stepped in, followed by an older woman who carried a tray of oils and linens. Elio’s dual-colored eyes were wide with excitement, her face flushed.
"Aurora, you won't believe it," Elio whispered as she approached me. "The King... he actually gave us specific orders for you. He personally told my mother and me how you should look. We’ve never received orders like that before. Usually, he doesn't even look at the women we bring in. He just lets the elders handle everything."
The older woman, the Head Mistress, nodded solemnly. "He was very firm. He wants your scars hidden, but your beauty highlighted. I think the King really likes you, child. There is a heat in his eyes I haven't seen in a very long time."
They led me to a private chamber attached to the library, where a large copper tub steamed with rose-scented water. As I stepped into the bath, the warmth seeped into my bones, washing away the grime of the Moonstone pack’s kitchens. Elio scrubbed my skin with gentle hands, using soaps that smelled like sandalwood and honey.
"Your body is like a pearl," Elio remarked, her voice full of awe as she rinsed my shoulders. "Under all that dirt and those old clothes... you have the perfect shape. And your hair... it's like a sunset."
When I finally stood before the tall mirror, I didn't recognize the woman staring back. They had dressed me in a gown of deep emerald silk that shifted like water when I moved. It had a high collar that perfectly hid the jagged scars on my neck, but the back was open, revealing the smooth, pale curve of my spine. My hair, a vibrant, flaming red, had been brushed until it shone like polished copper, falling in thick waves over my shoulders. My skin was pale and flawless where the scars didn't reach, shimmering under the light of the palace torches.
"You look like a Queen," Kelvin said from the doorway, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "It’s time. The elders are waiting."
I was escorted out of the room by a line of guards and maids. The walk through the palace felt like a dream. We descended the grand black marble staircase, the emerald silk of my dress rustling against the stone.
When we reached the Great Hall, the doors swung open to reveal hundreds of people. The air was thick with the scent of pine, musk, and expensive wine. As I walked down the center aisle, I felt a thousand eyes boring into me.
I could hear the whispers of the men in the crowd. Their gazes were heavy, traveling over my figure with a hunger that made my skin crawl. They didn't see a girl who had been tortured; they saw a prize. I saw the way their hands tightened on their glasses, the way they leaned in to get a better look at the "mute slave" who had been transformed into a goddess.
But the women were different. I felt the cold, sharp stabs of their hatred. Their eyes were narrowed, their lips curled in disdain. I saw Lady Phina standing near a pillar, her arms crossed, her eyes tracking my every move with a mixture of jealousy and dark fascination.
At the end of the hall, standing on a raised dais, was King Deacon.
He was dressed in ceremonial black and gold, looking every bit the ruthless monarch the world feared. As I approached, our eyes locked. I saw a flicker of something in his blue gaze—a spark of genuine fancy, a brief moment where his cold mask slipped to reveal that he found me beautiful. But it lasted only a second before he pulled his expression back into a wall of stone.
The Head Elder stepped forward, holding a ceremonial blade.
"The hundredth bond," the Elder announced, her voice echoing. "Let the blood of the King and the Mate seal the path of the Hollow Queen."
Deacon took my hand. His grip was warm and steady. He sliced his palm, then mine, and pressed our hands together. I gasped as the bond ignited. It felt like a bolt of lightning shooting up my arm and straight into my heart. My vision blurred as our souls slammed into one another. I felt his pain, his coldness, and a brief, searing flash of his desire.
The mating bond was sealed. I was officially his.
I stood there, trembling from the force of the magic, as the crowd began to roar. Men cheered, women whispered behind their fans, but I only had eyes for the King. He looked down at me, his hand still gripping mine, and for the first time, I saw the ghost of a smile on his red cherry lips.
He didn't speak, but the weight of his gaze told me everything. The seven days had begun, and I was no longer a slave, I was no longer a stripper, I became the hollow queen