7. Bound

~ JESSE ~

Behind Casimir, Ghere relaxed, like he’d been holding his breath.

The Cleric’s jaw flexed.

Several wolves who’d been watching, chuckled or grunted.

But then it hit me: It was done. I’d done it. I’d vowed myself to him until the day of my death.

Nerves trilled in my chest. Should I be glad, or would I soon want to hurry eternity along?

Only time would tell.

I was in a fog, barely hearing as the Cleric led Casimir in a vow of protection of my person and my throne, promising to use his power to uphold me as Alpha Female, and to give me the heir.

And then…

“…And will you give yourself to her as a vessel, your body for hers, serving her pleasure?”

Casimir’s eyes narrowed and blazed. “I will.”

The Cleric raised his voice slightly. “And do the Witnesses agree and let the vows bind? Do you accept her as his mate? Do you bow to her as your Queen?”

“We do,” they growled in unison.

And something in my chest flared.

I sucked in a breath, swaying forward as something came alive inside me—a curling heat that seared a hole in my heart, but immediately filled it as well.

I could barely breathe and clutched a hand to my chest, pressing on the place, right at the center, where it felt as if the bottom had just fallen out of my world—only to be stuffed full of sensation and darkness and light and…

I blinked and staggered.

Casimir quickly took my upper arms in his hands. His lips were moving, his brows heavy and forehead pinched. He was saying something, but I couldn’t hear him.

But I could feel him.

Instinctively, I grabbed for him, fisting the front of his crisp, white shirt, swallowing, and trying to catch my breath as, inside me, something took shape. Something that was very clearly him.

Strength. Power. Determination. A roaring fire of need. And a hollow, bone-cold, echoing dark.

“Jesse?”

My head snapped up and our eyes locked. I was gripping his shirt in both hands now.

A flash of concern shifted behind his eyes, but he didn’t move, still holding my upper arms like he was afraid I was about to fall.

I was about to fall.

He had no idea.

I was going to pitch headlong deep, deep inside that well of pain and darkness that was him.

It made me want to weep. It made me want to scream—could none of them see it? Feel it in him?

This man, this wolf… his heart was a wasteland. Empty, dusty, dark and cold.

And weeping.

I was blinking rapidly, my brain struggling to define the boundaries between what was me and what was him. For moments I’d feel the desert of his heart, convinced it was mine. Then I’d feel myself again and look into the canyon of him as if I stood above it.

Back and forth, flickering between the urge to rush to him, to soothe him, and to run screaming, the urge to plead, and a crackling need that threatened sanity.

“Jesse?!”

His eyes were dark with something angry and afraid.

This man felt fear?

“Jesse, can you hear me?”

I nodded, still sucking at empty air, still trying to find my feet on the shifting sand under the line that danced between us.

And then… rushing, warming comfort. A third presence. There was another hand on me, on my shoulder, and it brought clarity. Brought strength. Drew the lines between Casimir’s heart and mine so that I could see where I stopped and he began.

I looked up, startled, to find the Cleric, one hand clasping my shoulder, staring at me intently as his lips moved and I tried to take in what he was saying…

“…You are one. Two hearts made one. Before God, and wolf. Before male and female. Before time… you are one. What God brings together, let no creation tear apart.”

I sucked in a deep, cleansing breath and came back to myself with a jolt.

Both Casimir and the Cleric were leaning closer, chins low, eyes intent.

But I’d found myself again—and I understood now. Understood why I was here and why God had let all of this happen and what He was asking me to do.

I shook my head, clearing the last of the fog.

“Jesse?” Casimir muttered. “Are you well?”

I nodded. “Yes. Yes… I just… this… inside me…”

“The bond,” he growled.

I swallowed. “I can feel it.”

“Good,” he said, and even though his voice was tight, his grip on my arms softened. “Good.”

There was a moment when everyone sort of waited, a hanging kind of silence, poised on the edge of action. Then the Cleric straightened and let go of my shoulder. Cazz didn’t let go of me completely, but his fingers loosened, and his eyes…

The fire in those startling eyes was joined by a low, simmering warmth that I hadn’t seen before.

“It is vowed, and it is witnessed,” The Cleric said softly, his tone somehow defeated. “Let every man, every wolf, see and acknowledge the King and his Queen. Casimir Augustus Klane takes Jesse Hudson as his mate. What God brings together, let no earthly hand separate.”

The wolves in the room repeated the line, and then everything went silent again.

The Cleric swallowed audibly. “Your Highnesses, as God’s hand here, I declare you vowed. Mated. And married. Sire… you may kiss your bride.”

I stared up at Cazz, sinking into those eyes, still breathless at what I could sense of him, of what his heart revealed, still reeling.

Casimir hesitated only a moment, one hand lifting from my arm to take my chin as he leaned in.

“God is not here,” he muttered. “But we are.” Then he lifted my chin and took my mouth in a slow, deep kiss that stole my breath all over again.

His lips, so full, softened against mine. His tongue flickered, teasing and tempting. And then, instead of pulling away, he sucked in a breath and tilted his head and pulled me up on my toes, into his chest, as he wrapped those steel arms around me and devoured me.

I was still gripping his shirt, trying desperately to catch my breath, but overwhelmed with the sensation of that kiss—the promise of it, the urgency and… something I couldn’t define.

As if it was a place I was meant to be.

When Cazz sucked in and pulled away his hair was messy, falling over his face—had I done that?—and his chest was heaving. He stared at me, eyes wide and startled, the warm flames licking at the surface of the ice, as if they threatened to burn through.

Then he blinked, and that beautiful gaze shuttered like he’d slammed a door.

We were left clinging, staring, blinking.

And then he stepped back, eyes still locked on mine, but giving nothing, before he cleared his throat and turned, tearing his gaze from mine to the wolves gathered to witness.

“Leave us,” he hissed, and I felt that power detonate from him.