Dark Lover

Butch, Marissa, and Fritz stood to one side. She gave them a little wave. Fritz took out a handkerchief.

And there was someone else in the room.

A tiny person draped in black from head to toe. Even the face was covered.

Beth frowned. Under the folds of black, there was a pool of light on the floor. As if the figure were glowing.

But where was Wrath?

Wellsie led her over until she was standing in front of the men. The one with the gorgeous hair, Phury, stepped forward.

Beth glanced down, trying to collect herself, and noticed that he had a prosthesis where one foot should have been.

She looked up into his yellow eyes, not wanting to stare. When he smiled, she found herself calming a little.

His voice was rich, his words evenly spoken. "We're going to do as much of this in English as we can, so you'll understand. Are you ready to start?"

She nodded.

"My lord, come forward," he called out.

Beth looked over her shoulder.

Wrath materialized in the hall doorway, and she put her hand to her mouth. He was resplendent, wearing a sashed black robe that was embroidered with dark thread. A long, gold-handled dagger hung at his side, and there was a circle of rubies set in some kind of matte-finished metal on his head.

As he strode forward, moving with the grace she loved, his hair flared in waves that fell past his thick shoulders.

He looked at no one but her.

When he was standing before her, he whispered, "You take my breath away."

She started to cry.

Wrath's face was worried as he reached out. "Leelan, what's the matter?"

Beth shook her head and felt Wellsie tuck a Kleenex into her hand.

"She's fine," the woman said. "Trust me, she's fine. Aren't you?"

Beth nodded and blotted under her eyes. "Yes."

Wrath touched her cheek. "We can stop this."

"No!" she shot back. "I love you, and we're going to get married. Right now."

Some of the brothers laughed softly. "Guess we're straight on that," one of them said with respect in his voice.

When she was under control again, Wrath looked over at Phury and nodded.

"We're going to make the presentation to the Scribe Virgin first," the brother said.

Wrath took her hand and led her over to the robed figure.

"Scribe Virgin, this is Elizabeth, daughter of the Black Dagger warrior Darius, granddaughter of the princeps Marklon, great-granddaughter of the princeps Horusman…"

The list went on for a while. When Wrath fell silent, Beth impulsively reached out to the figure, offering her hand.

There was a shout of alarm and Wrath grabbed her arm, hauling her back. Several of the brothers leaped forward.

"That's my fault," Wrath said, splaying his arms out as if to protect her. "I didn't adequately prepare her. She meant no offense."

A laugh-low, warm, and feminine-came out of the robes. "Fear not, warrior. She's fine. Come here, female."

Wrath moved aside, but stayed close.

Beth approached the figure, worried about every move she made. She could feel herself being surveyed.

'This male asks that you accept him as your hellren, child. Would you have him as your own if he is worthy?"

"Oh, yes." Beth looked at Wrath. He was still tense. "Yes, I will."

The figure nodded. "Warrior, this female will consider you. Will you prove yourself for her?"

"I will." Wrath's deep voice carried throughout the room.

"Will you sacrifice yourself for her?"

"I will."

"Will you defend her against those who would seek to harm her?"

"I will."

"Give me your hand, child."

Beth reached out tentatively.

"Palm up," Wrath whispered.

She flipped her wrist. The folds moved and covered her hand. She felt an odd tingling, like a low-level electrical charge.

"Warrior."

Wrath put his hand out, and it too was obscured by the black robe.

Suddenly, warmth surrounded her, enveloped her. She looked at Wrath. He was smiling back at her.

"Ah," the figure said. "This is a good mating. A very good mating."

Their hands were dropped, and then Wrath had his arms around her and was kissing her.

People started to clap. Someone blew a nose.

Beth held on to her new husband as hard as she could. It was done. It was real. They were-

"Almost finished, leelan."

Wrath stepped back, pulling the sash on his robe free. He took the garment off, revealing his bare chest.

Wellsie came up and took Beth's hand. "It's going to be okay. Just breathe with me."

Beth glanced around nervously as Wrath knelt before his brothers and dropped his head. Fritz brought over a small table with the crystal bowl full of salt, a pitcher of water, and a small lacquer box on it.

Phury stood over Wrath. "My lord, what is the name of your shellan?"

"She is called Elizabeth."

With a rasping sound, Phury unsheathed his black dagger.

And bent down over Wrath's bare back.

Beth gasped and lunged forward as the blade descended. "No-"

Wellsie held her in place. "Stay here."

"What is he-"

"You're mating a warrior," Wellsie whispered fiercely. "Let him have his honor in front of his brothers."

"No!"

"Listen to me-Wrath is giving his body, himself, to you. All of it is yours now. That's the purpose of the ceremony."