Page 143 of Threaded
“Not yet,Rhoi.” The name slipped from her mouth and shocked even her. His eyes flashed, first with confusion, then with something … else.
It was an old Onitan word, a word every child in the kingdom grew up learning, just as they grew up learning about the line of queens. It had first been a word given by Qhohena to Priam, her Consort God, and had appeared several other times throughout history.
She hadn’t known exactly what caused her to say it now, to say it to him.
All she knew was that it meant “king.”
Andrian watched her as the word hung in the air between them, her hand still gripping his chin. She slowly dropped it, releasing her hold on him, but his own hand shot out, wrapping around the skin of her wrist and pulling her closer, his lips meeting hers with a spark of light and shadow and blood and magic.
The murmurs of the room grew louder, accompanied by the sound of steel being unsheathed, then of blood beginning to drop to the floor. Small cuts in the palm, a simple offering of blood by the people to amplify the power she was tethering to herself, to those pillars, feeding the land with life so its people may prosper in the months to come.
But that magic … it was also hers, in a way. Bound to her and her emotions, her feelings. The more she felt, the more it would be amplified around this room, the city, the entire kingdom.
And right now, she feltso much. Too much. Unbearably much.
She pressed herself further against Andrian, molding herself to the hot feel of his mouth on hers, the clash of his teeth against her tongue. He was hot and hard against her stomach, and her thighs clenched, blood dropping instantly to her core.
Not yet.
She groaned but pushed back from him, breaking their kiss, panting against his mouth as they shared breath. His gaze was still ravenous, but she only stepped back and turned away, facing the second pillar beside the throne.
They weren’t yet done with the ritual. And despite her spinning emotions, she was determined to see this through.
She stepped over her discarded skirts, her heels clicking against the marble until she stood before the second pillar. It was so much like the first, thelunestairdull and gray. Andrian stepped up behind her, his body hot and familiar. She froze at the feel of him, hard against her back, all thoughts in her mind stuttering out.
She felt him chuckle, then heard his voice whispering in her ear. “Not yet,nio.”
It wasn’t lost on her that she’d thought those same words to herself no more than a few moments before.
Goddess, what a brilliant, perfect asshole.
She lifted her right, unmarred hand up before her, and turned her palm to face her—to facethem. Andrian shifted and withdrew the dragon-winged dagger, reaching around her to take her hand in his. With careful precision, he again sliced her palm with the blade, blood welling to the surface along with the stinging pain. He released her, and she didn’t hesitate before turning her hand and pressing it to the pillar.
This time, the eruption of light and the wave of power that washed through the room nearly knocked her off her feet. She sagged against Andrian, his arms instantly encircling her, her right palm still glued to the now-glowing pillar.
This time, as the wave gradually resided, it left a heavy layer of wild and feral magic in the room, like a gossamer curtain pulled over eyes. The edges of the world were all tinged and blurred with the colors of silver and gold.
This magic was a drug, and Mariah … Mariah was high on it.
She was now leaning fully on Andrian, wanting nothing more than to bathe in the magic floating around them, to stay there forever beneath that beautiful shroud. It took her a few heartbeats to realize he was whispering something in her ear, and focused her attention on that, on his words.
“The ritual,nio. We’re not done yet. Finish it, and then you’ll have me all to yourself.”
Her eyes snapped open, some of the fog lifting slightly from her magic-addled brain. She glanced down at her still-bleeding hands, at the threads of magic now flowing from both palms, connecting her to both pillars and theallumeflooding into the world.
There was one final step she needed to take. One final step to connect her tether to the earth beneath their feet, so every drop of blood contributed tonight could be used to captureallumeand bring it to dwell within thelunestairpillars.
She stood, her legs shaky, before moving finally to thelunestairpanel behind the throne.
Before, this panel had been the only component to the Solstice, the only place deemed acceptable for the queen to touch. Ryenne would tie herself to the earth, and hope the magic in her veins was enough to summon sufficientallumeto power the pillars for another six months.
It never would’ve been enough. Eventually, the magic would’ve run out, and Onita would’ve been vulnerable to anyone who wished her harm.
Her palms still bleeding, those two threads flowing from her blood and binding her to either pillar, she knelt before thelunestairtile. Andrian didn’t touch her, but she felt his presence at her side, ready to catch her when this was done. With a deep inhale, she pulled as much of the magic washing through the room to her, closed her eyes, and pressed both palms to the tile.
The threads from the pillars leaped from her to the panel, tunneling themselves down into the ground, spindling throughout the entire kingdom. A shudder of power wracked through the earth, a tremor strong enough to wake the dragons of the world that had long since gone to sleep.
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