Rose Bound: The Rose and King series Book 1

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Rose Bound: The Rose and King series Book 1 Page 19

by J. J. Marshall


  A set of French double doors sat open before him, leading the way into the courtyard Gavin used to play in as a child, the place where he and Rose had stolen kisses and long talks, a place where he and Lorelei had fallen in love and the same place he’d found out she’s sold him out to the coven leaders and his parents. So many memories swirled in his head as Gavin headed out the doors into the yard.

  A large, grey stone fountain sat in the middle with statues of the first rulers in an embrace, forever bound together. Water poured from the man’s outstretched hand, over top of the pair into a basin below. The same basin that the Alchemist would drop the enchanted rose into. The woman was known as Celeste. No one truly knew which house she came from, but she had enthralled Tiberius Sinclair long ago and the rest was ancient history. She was a grandmother he’d never known, but the love that forever etched her features was something Gavin hoped he could find one day with Rose.

  The crowd cheered as Gavin approached and there, beside the Alchemist, stood Rose. She wore a teacup ruby gown that cinched at the waist and hung low on her shoulders, exposing her unmarred alabaster skin to the world. Her blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders in curls and a white daisy crown sat upon her fair head.

  She was stunning.

  Absolutely breathtaking. Gavin’s hand reached up to cover his heart. He felt it thundering beneath his fingers. How had he gotten so lucky, with a bride so strikingly beautiful and headstrong? His steps faltered as he looked at her—strong willed, shoulders squared, defiant until the end. He admired her strength.

  When her eyes met his, she quickly looked away again as a blush crept into her fair cheeks. Gavin couldn’t help but smirk. She was nervous. Because of him, he realized.

  When Gavin reached them, the Alchemist turned, the gleam of lowlight shining off his bald, leathery head, and began speaking.

  “Gentlefolk of Elirion, today at this most sacred hour on Hallows Day, we gather for a most momentous occasion. A Rose Bound ceremony to tether the souls of our new King and Queen. The magic binding of souls has been a sacred part of our conventry since the dawn of vampires. Such magic has been scarcely witnessed in our life spans, as Kings and Queens live momentous lives. In truth, I have only born witness to two ceremonies. Your mother and father,” a nod to Gavin had him gulping down fresh pain at the mention of his parents, “and that of Tiberius and Celeste. They stood before me, five hundred years ago, taking the same oath that Gavin from house Sinclair and Rosalie from house Coston pledge today. I ask that during the Blood Oath that you remain silent in order for our unified pair to pledge their vows to one another.”

  Gavin’s heart raced, thumping wildly in his chest, threatening to break through his ribcage. He wasn’t aware of any vows. He hadn’t written any and to ask him to speak from his bloodthirsty heart was… dangerous. He took in a breath in order to steady his nerves and tuned back into the Alchemist who walked behind the altar and picked up the enchanted Rose.

  “Rosalie,” he called. “I call you before me to recite the words of Tiberius and Celeste, the binding oath they took to ensure the sanctity and safety of their counterpart. For Gavin will be an extension of you and you of him. Whatever befalls you, is to be done unto him. You must ground him. Cherish him and honor his plans for our nation. Do you accept these responsibilities without reservation?”

  “And if I don’t?” Rose pondered aloud drawing the ire of her father.

  “Rosalie,” Zachary snarled from the sidelines. “The Council has spoken.” But Rose ignored him.

  “But, I do have a choice here, don’t I?” she asked the Alchemist. Gavin stood silent; he knew this was a possibility. He knew Rose didn’t want this. Hell, he’d given her an out. He hated to admit the tinge of pain he felt at her words.

  “You do.” The Alchemist hesitated. “But the magic will know your true intentions. It knows all. For your true feelings will be branded onto each of you for all to see. If the foundation is not there, then magic will not take effect.”

  “Branded?” Gavin asked, slipping from his silent demeanor. No one ever mentioned being branded.

  “Every king and queen are physically marked with the symbol of their counterpart. It is not painful but will simply remind you to guard your heart. A sigil of your promise.” Rose took several moments in silence. Off in the distance, Gavin heard wind chimes ringing despite the lack of wind.

  How peculiar.

  “I agree,” she responded. Relief flooded Gavin’s gut.

  “Excellent. Come forth,” the Alchemist said. Rose rounded the altar as the Alchemist raised the glass dome that protected the enchanted rose and set it aside, carefully picking up the stem. He whispered something into Rose’s ear, quiet enough so that Gavin’s vampire ears couldn’t decipher the words. He watched as Rose nodded and drew her wrist to her lips, sinking her fangs in. Shakily, Rose positioned her wounded wrist over the rose. Blood poured from where her fangs penetrated her skin, soaking the white petals until they were stained. Liquid oozed down the stem, painting the Alchemist’s own pallid tone.

  “Repeat after me, ‘From the blood of the queen, I give myself over to the great unknown, pledging my life, my loyalty and my soul to my partner. I offer my blood as a sacrifice to you. Soul Bound forever, I tether myself unto thee until the darkness of death calls upon us and together we perish.’”

  “Gavin,” Rose said, turning her attention toward him. “Could you please join me?” she asked. Gavin felt his legs move, but it was as if time itself stood still. Then, all too soon, he stood before her, drinking in her beauty as she took his sweaty palms within her own gentle fingers. Blood coagulated at her wrists, the skin closing slowly before Gavin’s eyes.

  “Gavin,” she said again, her voice trembling. “From the blood of the queen, I give myself over to the great unknown, pledging my life, my loyalty and my soul to you, my partner. I offer my blood as a sacrifice to you. Soul Bound forever, I tether myself unto thee until the darkness calls upon us and together we perish.” Golden light flooded from Rose as she finished speaking her oath, floating above her in a mist.

  “What is that?” Gavin asked, looking from the mist to the Alchemist, who smiled broadly. The magic had worked.

  “Her soul,” he replied. “Gavin.” Rose smiled and looked above her, a look of pure joy overtaking her. She stepped to the side to allow Gavin access to the Alchemist. “I call you before me to recite the words of Tiberius and Celeste, the binding oath they took to ensure the sanctity and safety of their counterpart. For Rosalie will be an extension of you and you of her. Whatever befalls you, is to be done unto her. You must guard her. Cherish her and honor her place at your side. Do you accept these responsibilities without reservation?”

  “I accept,” Gavin grunted throatily.

  The Alchemist leaned in and whispered into his ear, “I’m going to need your blood. Draw enough to soak the rose but not even to induce fainting.” Gavin pulled back and looked at the timeless man.

  “Vampires don’t faint,” he stated matter-of-factly. The Alchemist smiled again.

  “I’ve seen many things, Gavin Sinclair, and I can assure you, vampires do, in fact, faint.”

  Gavin unbuttoned his black sleeve and rolled it up to expose his wrist without tarnishing the shirt. He lifted his wrist to his lips, grazing his fangs along his skin and clamped down. Pain seared momentarily where his fangs had punctured, filling his own mouth with blood, before easing. The Ripper within him sang. Sick fucker. Blood pooled down his chin as he lifted his wrist toward the Alchemist. The enchanted rose was white, unmarred by Rose’s offering as if it drank it all in. The Alchemist took his wrist and poured the liquid over the rose, staining it.

  “Gavin,” his voice boomed, loud enough for the kingdom to hear, “repeat after me, ‘From the blood of the king, I give myself over to the great unknown, pledging my life, my loyalty and my soul to my partner and my kingdom. I offer my blood as a sacrifice to you. Soul Bound forever, I tether myself unto thee until the darkness c
alls upon us and together we perish.’”

  “Rose, Gentlefolk of Elirion and all of Tatum, from the blood of the king, I give myself over to the great unknown, pledging my life, my loyalty and my soul to my partner and my kingdom. I offer my blood as a sacrifice to you. Soul Bound forever, I tether myself unto thee until the darkness calls upon me - us- and together we perish.” Black mist rose above Gavin like a shadow, singing to the Blood Prince within him, calling him to surface. Gavin couldn’t see a thing, shrouded by darkness, blinding him.

  “Why is it black?” he heard Rose ask.

  “All Rippers have a dark soul, my dear. This will be your burden to bear now as well,” the Alchemist replied. Gavin looked to him with pure rage.

  “Calm yourself, child. Your soulbound mate shall diminish your thirst and steady your heart.”

  The Alchemist whispered beneath his breath in a language Gavin didn’t know and raised his hands, lifting the shadow from the prince’s eyes. One hand remained in the air while the other held the enchanted rose, white and pure, once more. He walked toward the fountain and the words he whispered grew louder. Voices swirled within the Alchemist’s like an entire clan funneled through him. Male and female, all speaking tongues that Gavin couldn’t understand. Gavin’s eyes shot to Rose, whose eyes were wide as she mouthed something indiscernible. Then, the Alchemist dropped the rose into the fountain. The water bubbled red, flowing like blood over top of his ancestors and the black and gold mist swirled together above them. Gavin felt the skin on his chest prickle and tore his gaze away from the magic.

  His skin was white and hot but did not hurt as a symbol formed above his heart. A rose branded into his skin, its stem forming an infinity symbol. The voices of the Alchemist grew louder still, deafening until the water ran clear and the mist above the prince and Rose fell down around them. Gavin’s magical soul prodded at Rose’s lips. When she parted them, it soaked into her as she inhaled air. Gavin watched intently. Rose closed her eyes as if the sensation was pleasurable, an expression he would want to draw out of her later, if she allowed him.

  Before another thought could muddle his mind, Rose’s golden pure soul appeared before him beckoning for entry. He followed Rose’s lead and inhaled. Bliss filled his senses as her essence absorbed into him. Purity, lighting the darkness within. He fought the urge to moan at the tingling feeling sweeping through his body. A closeness, a bond, he had never felt before. She was as much a part of him as he was hers. Gavin opened his eyes to meet Rose’s startling blue gaze. She was studying him. It was as though she was seeing him for the first time. Truly seeing him.

  Gavin did the same, feeling as if he was just bestowed with the most beautiful queen this kingdom had ever seen. Her hair was luminous, eyes bright, and her pale skin rivaled that of the moon. He felt her intentions, knew her dreams. He knew her heart and most of all, felt an overwhelming love for it. She was—Perfection.

  Gavin raised his hand to touch Rose, an overwhelming need to feel her energy pulsed through him, but before his fingers met her skin, the Alchemist slouched and fell to his knees. He was drained of energy and looked as if five hundred years had stolen what was left of his soul.

  “Kiss her,” he croaked. “For the kingdom has its new king and queen.” Gavin leaned into Rose, pulling her close to him, feeling as though he’d never let her go. He needed her. Electricity pulsed through him as Rose’s soft fingers caressed his face between her palms, looking into his eyes and then darting past him.

  “Gavin!” she cried as something sharp pricked at his back. A tiny scream he knew all too well erupted from behind him.

  Aurora.

  Dahlia

  Red-hot anger lanced through Dahlia as she moved swiftly through the Underground dungeons, calling ghouls and shadows alike to her side. Her black stiletto heels clicked and clacked in time with her thoughts.

  She was pissed.

  No, scratch that, she was beyond pissed. Things were not going as she’d planned. She closed her eyes, trying to steady the thrum of dark energy that coursed through her with every beat of her heart. There should not have been a breach, not yet. Syphoning magic in glossy black tendrils that streamed from the ghouls and shadows at her side, Dahlia rounded the corner, heading down the passage that led to her office. It wouldn’t take her long to concoct a potion to allow her full shadow-like abilities, something only Limos’s truly devoted were able to wield. And god, was she devoted. Dahlia’s blood-red lips curled into a snarled grin.

  “Be gone,” she said without turning around as she headed into her open office and closed the door. She turned, thumbing through the books on her shelves until she found exactly what she was looking for and pulled its spine from her shelf. Dahlia moved to her ruined desk, placing the book down as she searched for the exact spell she’d need until at last, she found it. Dahlia’s eyes widened. Magic like this would cost her dearly. Would cost her that which she loved most. Her heart hammered in her chest as a lump formed in her throat. She tried to swallow, nearly choking on saliva. Could she risk it?

  Could she risk him? Dahlia shook her head, snapping her eyes shut as she sucked in a breath. What other choice did she have? Slowly, she opened her lids and started pulling the nastiest bits of magic she’d collected over the years from jars hidden behind her books. She uncorked one, labelled Death and called to the shadow magic she’d pulled from the ghouls, twisting and curling the dark magic between her thumb and forefinger as though she were forming a ball. And then, ever so slowly, she lowered the shadow magic into Death.

  At first, nothing happened. Black liquid remained unfazed within the jar, but seconds later, it began to fizz. Bile stung at the back of the vampire’s throat, stinging, as she forced it back down. Then, Dahlia brought the dank liquid to her parted lips.

  I’m so sorry.

  Tilting her head back, the liquid moved down her throat in a gulp, nearly gagging her. Death tasted just as its name stated. Her insides twisted, knotting and curling in on itself. Dahlia bit her lip, stifling the cry on her tongue, but then, her hands began to fade and soon, she was nothing but darkness. There was no pain as a shadow. There was only darkness.

  “Interesting,” she murmured beneath her breath before bolting for the door. Her legs moved faster than her solid form ever had. And despite not being able to see herself, she noted that she could see the forms of other shadows.

  “Misssstresss,” a female shadow hissed. “Come with us. Together we will travel under the coat of darknesssss.”

  “Yes. Let’s go.”

  The shadows showed her the fastest way to move and Dahlia, to her surprise, enjoyed moving in this form. She was faster than a vampire, darting in and out of trees, even moving through The Forest of Knowing faster than she ever had before, evading the vagabonds and unsavory characters on her path. A trip that should have taken her days to complete took her merely a few hours.

  Soon, Dahlia found herself with Tatum’s castle in her view. She could see the Rose Bound ceremony beginning and she knew it had to end there. She hoped Conan had been able to rally his pack and the rebellious humans. She would tell him what was on her mind. She’d say her goodbyes.

  Together, they could break Gavin Sinclair, one bone at a time. But magic was tricky, and she didn’t know how much time she’d have with Conan before it came to reap its offering. Had Dahlia been in her physical form, she knew she’d be wrecked with sobs. But as a shadow, there was nothing.

  She would break Gavin Sinclair, and then, she’d take what was hers. Elirion. Dahlia refused to let family ties dissuade her from her goal. If Rose got her in way, she’d destroy her.

  Sweeping closer to the edge of the trees, Dahlia saw her shining sister standing at the altar alone. Gavin had not emerged yet. Bells rang announcing the hour and simultaneously, the prince appeared, clad in all black, untraditional to say the least. Leave it to the princeling to shit on tradition. But what did she really expect from a Ripper?

  With a thrill of excitement, Dahlia flitted
through the remaining trees and ducked in and out of corners along the streets leading up to the fountain. Her path was empty, as presumably everyone was in attendance up ahead. No one would suspect her. In shadow form, she could be anywhere she pleased. Dahlia’s red lips curled into a smirk.

  They won’t know what hit them. She pushed herself faster up the winding roads. Appearing at the edge of the congregation was no great feat, everyone was enamored by the magic the Alchemist spoke of. The sight was awe-inspiring, indeed. The council stood around the altar in glistening white robes, a king and queen at their center. The Alchemist, an immortal being who appeared to be no older than forty, appeared in a red cloak. The light of dusk glistened off of his bald head as he spoke high and fast. Then, he lifted the enchanted rose. The one that should be coated with her blood, not her sister’s.

  She was fit to be a queen. She was ruthless and organized, while her sister was weak and soft-hearted. Dahlia scoffed, watching Rose bite into her wrist. Pain etched her young features. Weak. She was so goddessdamned weak. Then, she pulled her fangs away and smothered the rose in her blood. Anger gnawed at Dahlia the longer she watched. Then Gavin did the same. Something shifted within Dahlia. The magic left her exhilarated. Being in the presence of such power was intoxicating, and while everyone was feeling the effects, that’s when Dahlia knew she would strike. Her own concocted magic was wavering. She could see her form again, flickering in and out. Dahlia kneeled down, pulling the dagger strapped to her ankle and stood, watching the ceremony unfold.

 

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