The officiant's voice rang out again, reverberating through the vaulted hall like a tolling bell.
"Let the choosing begin."
A hush fell over the crowd. Even the torches seemed to still, their flames quietening for what was to come.
Elarion of House Ardenne stepped forward — first victor of the Grand Hunt, second in line to one of the oldest bloodlines in the realm. He moved with a quiet authority that required no flourish. His family was known for their graces and near-mythic looks — and Elarion was the living embodiment of that lineage. The lamplight caught on his golden waves, slicked neatly back, drawing attention to the sharp line of his jaw. His emerald eyes unreadable as he studied the tray before him.
A pot of dark oil.
A tortoise-shelled comb.
A goblet of horn.
An ivory seal.
A red-feathered quill.
A milky bead.
He passed over each in turn until his hand hovered above the bead. It glowed faintly. A pulse — subtle but unmistakable — thrummed beneath his fingertips. Against reason he felt a disdain for the item but against his own mind, he felt drawn to it. He drew in a breath and took the bead in his hands.
A ripple of whispers coursed through the crowd.
Behind him, Calen of Drakonus shifted, the muscle in his jaw tightening. While admiring the Tributes from where he stood, he had also eyed that bead from the display of items. He too had felt a magnetic force beckoning him towards the milky white bead.
Unfortunately these were the rules of his game. Calen flexed his gloved hands once before he removed the glove of his left hand, the signet ring of Drakonus catching the firelight. When his turn came, his calloused hand reached for the red-feathered quill.
Alixon of Tharoz followed. He was quick and certain, his sea-dark eyes settling on the pot of oil. His fingers closed around it with a confidence of purpose.
The officiant nodded to Elarion chose his next item, the comb. His last item was the ivory seal, leaving Calen to claim the goblet.
When the items were all chosen, the officiant raised his hands.
"The selections are complete. The bonds shall be sealed in the Moonlight Chamber."
Applause broke the tension like a wave.
Noelis exhaled, her shoulders loosening beneath the silken weight of her gown. Elarion had chosen her. Of all the men who stood before them, he seemed the least dangerous.
And she had avoided Calen — that was enough.
Calen stood tall beside the other victors, he was more warrior than prince but tonight he looked his royal part. His brown hair which usually flopped across his forehead or was pulled back when his hair grew long, had been cropped shorter than usual for the occasion. He had a face made for trouble — sharp yet careless, rugged yet boyish. His eyes, a shade lighter than his hair, burned with the same dangerous warmth she had seen near the bonfire the night before. The memory of his touch — the one she wasn't ready for — flashed unbidden through her mind, and she looked away.
Alixon was a man of the coast, broad-shouldered, golden-skinned, his skin and hair touched by salt and sun. He had a steady air and his sunkissed hair glistened as if he had just stepped out of the sea.
Elarion, by contrast, looked every inch the royal man he was. Controlled. Composed. The kind of man who weighed each movement before making it. A man of no mistakes. He looked so perfect that it was hard to see him as a person.
Her thoughts were interrupted when the officiant called for the Tributes to go and claim their objects .
Noelis did as instructed, joining Elarion along with two others — the petite third Tribute and the second Tribute. Across from them, Calen's two choices stood — one tall and poised, the other lushly curved — while the athletic fourth Tribute went to Alixon.
The ceremony was nearly at its end. Only the binding remained.
The victors and their Tributes were led from the great hall through an archway draped with silver veils. Beyond it lay a smaller, dimly lit chamber. Three square spaces were set apart within it, each framed by four-poster frames adorned with curtains of sheer silk. The air was heavy with the scent of burning incense. Bowls of fruit and goblets of liquor had been prepared and placed on the sides.
Moon and star light spilled through a glass ceiling above, painting their skin in pale silver.
This was where the bonds would be sealed — the ancient rite of intercourse, when each victor would be bound with his chosen Tributes. The ritual was said to awaken the celestial power within the Marked, binding their magic to their new masters.
Noelis had heard the stories — how the act was both perverse and virtuous, how the hall would fill with the sounds of desire and heat to be heard by all in the room as well as the deities above. She had imagined it a hundred ways, yet standing here now, her mind was blank.
She tried to steady her breath as she was led to Elarion's side. He offered her a brief, measured nod — neither cruel nor kind. Duty, not desire, marked his eyes.
The officiant's voice floated through the chamber.
"At moonrise, the blessings of the Celestials shall descend. Through unity of body and soul, the bond shall be forged."
When the silver moon appeared through the skylight, a gong rang marking the beginning of the bonding ritual.
Each victor settled into one of the square matted spaces along with their Tributes who were now unveiled. Calen and Alixon were pleased to discover that their Tributes were beautiful maidens.
As Calen had imagined, the first Tribute had long beautiful limbs and her beautiful long golden hair a perfect match with her bright sapphire blue eyes while the fifth Tribute had wine red hair with hazel eyes bordered with thick darker lashes - if the first was the embodiment of elegance, the fifth had sexy written all over.
Alixon similarly admired the smoothness of his Tribute's caramel coloured skin which accentuated her striking fair hair. Calen's curtain fell first. He moved with restless confidence, his voice low and unhurried. The air behind that veil shimmered with heat and shadow — shapes entwined and voices turned to bestial sounds that carried across the chamber.
Calen's curtain fell first. He moved with restless confidence, the sound of low voices turned to hurried breaths and bestial sounds.
Sound from Alixon's square could also be heard. His chosen Tribute made soft sensual sounds that grew louder with time.
Elarion's face remained expressionless as he looked between his three unveiled Tributes. Being the healthy man he was, his body would respond to these women but he didn't want to be affected by their presence beyond the bare minimum. The second Tribute looked a little plain and pale but was by no means hard to look at. The petite third Tribute had a sweet face with dark curls that framed a heart shaped face and an equally sweet body which he tried not to look at for too long. The sixth Tribute he didn't dwell on for long either. This one was his usual type which was why he decided he would take her last once his libido would start to wane.
He would sleep with these three women because he was required to. His Kingdom needed all the powers of the Tributes to help rebuild the shield that had been broken by a sudden attack by the creatures of the Darkness a few days ago. Elarion would not allow himself to indulge or enjoy himself as that would be dishonouring his feelings for Bellatrice.
Elarion gestured for the third Tribute to come closer. Her pretty face was frozen in fright and was far from ready. Despite not wanting to enjoy the sex, he didn't want the experience to be unpleasant, for himself or anyone. She would have to get her body ready to take his sizeable manhood which had not yet grown hard enough to penetrate her. He wanted minimal foreplay but the girl was so stiff and she grabbed onto his shoulders and back so hard it left marks on him.
"Relax, I won't bite. It's not your first time, right?" he asked. She didn't reply. By Celestials, she was a virgin.
"And you..?" he asked looking to the other two Tributes. They both shook their heads. Good, he'll start with the blond one first then.
He moved towards the first Tribute while taking off his tunic, relevant the lines that contoured his strong muscles. "Watch us carefully and then we can try again," he said to the petite third Tribute. With the first Tribute in his arms, he moved swiftly and worked his mind to arousal. He wanted minimal foreplay but he wasn't hard enough and wanted to get this over as soon as possible so he pulled down the Tribute's dress to expose her breasts. Her face had been plain but her body was anything but that. He planted his face between the curves of her breast and began sucking on the nipples that were getting hard as he himself was growing larger between his legs. She released a moan which excited him further and he took off his pants hastily while she took off her under garments. From the way she was responding this Tribute was familiar with the male body and she responded dutifully, moving her hips and body beneath him with a rhythm that matched his own.
It didn't take long for him to release himself in her and once he was done he pulled himself away and grabbed a drink. Elarion brushed the sweat from his forehead and his slicked back hair fell forward into his face. It had been quick and dirty. The session provided him physical relief but left him longing for more. He reminded himself this was just his primal instinct and nothing more. It would be best if he just moved swiftly onto the next Tribute.
He called towards the petite one again. She looked even more afraid than before. Elarion was always known for being a gentleman and while it was going to be hard in his current state, he would try and take things slowly keeping things as gentle as possible for the sweet looking virgin he now had in his arms.
He had promised there would be no moments of intimacy — no hugging and no kissing — but looking at this girl, he couldn't help but give her a soft kiss.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Ro...Rowena Castille my Lord," she said in a voice that matched her sweet face. A princess from the hills of Castille, not too far from his Kingdom.
"The first time can be uncomfortable but try to relax," he said in a soft gentle tone.
She nodded in response and he got to work kissing her neck, giving her time to warm to him and ready herself. Unlike earlier, things were drawn out so long that he was starting to lose his self control. He'd already broken his first promise that there would be no intimacy but he pitied the poor girl who was going to lose her virginity to him in circumstances less than optimal. He gave her all the mercy he could afford leaving none left for the last Tribute who awaited her turn in silence.
Once he was done, he gestured towards the blonde one to attend to Rowena and help clear their mess and her blood. Elarion hadn't asked the former her name so he had to just motion with his hand for her to come over.
But now his patience had hit rock bottom. His mercy ended there.