Page 48 of The Fallen Fae King

For a finishing touch, Lanlin rubbed frankincense oil into Daire’s feathers and my hair to purify us.

“You are both ready,” Lanlin murmured. “My beautiful dearhearts, will you marry me?”

“It’s a little late to be runaway brides.” Daire’s lips quirked. “What do you think?”

I raised my chin. “We better not be late to our own wedding.”

Now, however, I wonder what the delay is.

We have been standing on the dais long enough for my feet to ache. I am rocking anxiously.

The noble Bloods in their finest outfits are beginning to become restless below, whispering to each other.

The Alphas’ kilts are pleated like geometric fans, each crease casting a shadow. The Omegas and Betas wear fine linen robes draped loosely around them with constellations of jewelry. Their braided wigs click with beads when they move.

“What’s the holdup?” I whisper.

Lanlin and Daire exchange another silent glance.

I should kick both their asses.

They may be powerful kings, stunning ones. But they are definitely hiding something.

I glance down the long chamber.

Garlands of fresh lotus blossoms have been hung in celebration. Baskets overflow with figs, dates, pomegranates, and clusters of grapes. Tall bouquets of papyrus and palm fronds line the central aisle.

Musicians play harps, flutes, and sistrums.

I shudder as I study the side of the pyramid where the priestesses of the Scarlet Temple huddle. It is hung with long crimson ribbons like strands of flesh.

The priestesses are Omegas. They hold as much power in this kingdom as the Betas or Alphas do. I admire that, but I still fear the priestesses’ magic.

It sizzles across my skin.

The priestesses are wearing long dresses made up of red ribbons that weave around them serpent-like, as if they are alive.

Their faces are covered by veils that mask everything apart from their fanged mouths, which open to repeat in a chant, everything began with the Void. Everything will end with the Void.

It should be a blessing. But it doesn’t sound like one.

“Why aren’t we starting the ceremony?” I demand more sharply.

“Patience.” A portly Blood with a face that is etched with wrinkles, Ruin, condescendingly smiles at me.

Ruin, the leader of the Void Cult, breaks away from the other Betas with shaved heads who are standing calmly below the dais. They are wearing silver robes with glowing pyramid hieroglyphs on the front.

Ruin assesses Lanlin with cold, silver eyes. He steps up onto the dais.

Like the charismatic and fanatical leader that he is, Ruin holds up his arms and addresses the guests. “Welcome to this union, which will lead to cosmic stability. It is our King’s duty to bind himself through this treaty with the Shadow Dragons to create peace, not only through his body as a symbol of our land in submission to the Draca Kingdom, but to his fated mates. It will bring order to chaos. Balance. As the Blood Moon rises, witness the marriage of two Alphas to one Omega. They do not unite; they are bound.” Then he glances over his shoulder at Lanlin, before he hisses, “Where is the ex-consort? We can’t wait for her any longer.”

Huh, so that’s why the ceremony is delayed.

I can tell by the look in Daire’s eye that Isis won’t be turning up and that he knows why.

What’s the bet that Horus will also be absent for his half-brother’s wedding?

Will I be receiving his head as a gift instead?