Chapter 10: Ritual
3214words
"Are you certain she's here?" I asked Adrian, who stood beside me gazing at the forbidding landscape.
"If Morana still lives, this is where she would retreat," he replied. "The Shadow Peaks contain the oldest vampire sanctuaries, places hidden even from the Council's sight."
We had left the castle under the protection of Adrian's most trusted advisors, with instructions to maintain secrecy about our destination. The fewer who knew about Morana and my accelerating awakening, the safer we would be from those who might oppose the restoration of royal rule.
"How will we find her in this wilderness?" I wondered aloud.
Adrian smiled slightly. "We won't find her. If Morana wishes to be found, she will find us."
As if summoned by his words, a mist began to form around us—not the natural fog of mountains but something deliberate, probing. I felt it testing my blood, seeking recognition.
"Don't resist," Adrian murmured. "Let your blood respond naturally."
I nodded, relaxing my defenses. The mist thickened, swirling around us before coalescing into a path that wound up into the mountains.
"She's inviting us in," Adrian observed. "Follow the blood path, but stay close. The mountains have their own defenses against intruders."
We began our ascent, following the misty trail that only we could see. As we climbed higher, the air grew thinner, the landscape more alien. Strange plants glowed with internal light, and occasionally I glimpsed movement at the edge of my vision—creatures that vanished when I turned to look directly.
"What are they?" I whispered after one such sighting.
"Shadow dwellers," Adrian replied. "Neither living nor dead, they feed on lost travelers. The blood path protects us, but stray from it..."
He didn't need to finish the warning. I stayed close behind him, our progress slow but steady through the treacherous terrain.
After hours of climbing, the path led us to a sheer cliff face. The mist gathered before it, then seeped into the rock itself, revealing a narrow opening that had been invisible moments before.
"A blood gate," Adrian explained. "It will only admit those with the correct bloodline—or those accompanied by such."
I stepped forward, placing my palm against the stone. It warmed beneath my touch, then seemed to melt away, revealing a torch-lit passage beyond.
"After you, Your Highness," Adrian said with a slight bow.
The passage wound deep into the mountain, descending in a gentle spiral. The walls were covered with ancient murals depicting vampire history—the rise of the Crimson Dynasty, centuries of rule, the development of blood magic, and finally, the coup that had nearly destroyed the royal line.
"These paintings are recent," Adrian noted, examining the final mural showing an infant being carried away from a burning palace. "Morana has been recording history even in exile."
The passage eventually opened into a vast cavern transformed into a living space of surprising elegance. Tapestries softened the stone walls, comfortable furniture was arranged around a central fire pit, and shelves carved from the living rock held thousands of books and scrolls.
Standing beside the fire was a woman who defied easy description. She appeared neither young nor old, her face a perfect oval of alabaster skin unmarked by time. Her hair, black as midnight with a single streak of crimson, fell to her waist in an intricate braid. But it was her eyes that captured my attention—solid black from edge to edge, with no whites visible, yet somehow expressing emotions as clearly as any human gaze.
"The last guardian and the last heir," she said, her voice melodious yet ancient. "Together, as it should be. I have waited a long time for this day."
Adrian bowed deeply. "Lady Morana. We feared you lost in the coup."
"Lost? No. Hidden, yes. Waiting, certainly." Her black eyes turned to me, seeming to peer into my very essence. "You have finally awakened, little princess. Though not completely, not yet."
I met her unsettling gaze steadily. "You saved me as an infant."
"I fulfilled my duty," she corrected. "As blood mistress to the royal family for twelve generations, I could do no less when the usurpers came."
"You took me to the Nightshade clan," I said. "Why them? Why not raise me yourself?"
Morana gestured for us to sit on cushions near the fire. "The usurpers hunted me relentlessly. I needed to place you where they would not think to look—a minor clan known for nothing exceptional. And I needed to suppress your blood's natural power until you were old enough to control it."
"My 'defect,'" I realized. "You caused it deliberately."
"A necessary protection," Morana confirmed without apology. "Had your royal blood manifested early, the Council would have found and destroyed you before you could defend yourself."
I absorbed this, understanding the logic even as I recalled the years of shame and isolation. "And now?"
"Now you have partially awakened, triggered by trauma and necessity." Morana's black eyes shifted to Adrian. "You have taught her well, guardian, but she remains incomplete. The full Awakening ritual must be performed if she is to claim her birthright."
"What does this ritual entail?" I asked.
"A blood bond between royal and guardian," Morana explained. "It will complete your awakening while strengthening the guardian's connection to you. It is... intimate. Permanent. Not undertaken lightly."
I glanced at Adrian, whose expression had grown carefully neutral. "You never mentioned this part of the ritual."
"It wasn't my place to presume," he replied softly. "The blood bond is traditionally formed between a ruler and their chosen consort. It goes beyond the guardian oath, beyond duty."
Understanding dawned. "It's a marriage," I said, the realization sending warmth through my veins.
"In the oldest sense," Morana confirmed. "A joining of blood, power, and purpose that cannot be broken in life or death."
The implications hung in the air between us. Adrian and I had shared one kiss, acknowledged growing feelings, but this—this was a commitment beyond anything I had imagined.
"If there's another way—" Adrian began, clearly concerned I might feel pressured.
"Is there?" I asked Morana directly.
The ancient vampire shook her head. "Not if you wish to fully awaken your powers before facing the Council. The blood bond completes what nature began."
I turned back to Adrian, studying his face—the face that had become so dear to me in our short time together. "And if I want this? If I choose this bond not just for power but for... other reasons?"
Something like hope flickered in Adrian's eyes. "Ella, are you certain? Once done, it cannot be undone. You would be bound to me as I to you, for all eternity."
"I can think of worse fates," I replied with a small smile. "Can you?"
The formal mask Adrian had maintained since Morana's appearance finally cracked, revealing the depth of emotion beneath. "No," he said simply. "I can imagine no greater honor, no greater joy, than to be bound to you—not just as guardian to heir, but as man to woman."
Morana watched our exchange with knowing eyes. "The choice is made, then. We will perform the ritual at midnight, when the veil between worlds is thinnest and blood magic flows most freely."
She rose, moving to a carved chest from which she withdrew ceremonial items—a silver bowl, ancient daggers, vials of mysterious substances. "You should rest until then," she advised. "The ritual will demand all your strength."
She showed us to a chamber deeper in the cavern system—a surprisingly comfortable room with a large bed, bathing pool fed by hot springs, and fresh clothing laid out as though she had expected us.
"She knew we were coming," I observed when we were alone. "Probably long before we decided to seek her out."
"Morana has always seen more clearly than most," Adrian agreed, setting down our travel packs. "It's why she was chosen as blood mistress to the royal family."
I moved to the edge of the bathing pool, testing the water with my fingers. "This blood bond... you never spoke of it during my training."
Adrian approached slowly, his expression serious. "Because I never presumed to be worthy of it. The blood bond was traditionally formed between royals and their chosen consorts—equals in power if not in bloodline. I am merely a guardian."
"Merely?" I echoed, rising to face him. "You saved me, Adrian. You recognized me when no one else could. You taught me, protected me, believed in me when I didn't believe in myself. If that makes you 'merely' anything, then I'm not sure what true worth would look like."
He reached out, his fingers tracing the line of my cheek with exquisite gentleness. "You speak from the heart, not from knowledge of our traditions."
"Perhaps traditions need to change," I suggested. "Perhaps the last royal heir gets to decide what makes someone worthy of the blood bond."
A smile touched Adrian's lips. "And what does the last royal heir decide?"
I stepped closer, eliminating the careful distance he always maintained. "She decides that love matters more than tradition. That choice matters more than destiny. That the man who has stood beside her through awakening and danger is exactly the one she wishes to bond with—not for power or politics, but for the simple reason that she cannot imagine her life without him."
Adrian's composure broke completely at my words. He pulled me into his arms, his kiss carrying all the passion and tenderness he had held in check for so long. I responded with equal fervor, my blood singing in my veins as it recognized its perfect complement.
When we finally broke apart, Adrian rested his forehead against mine. "I have loved you since I found you in that forest," he confessed. "Not because of your blood or your destiny, but because of your courage, your resilience, your heart."
"And I love you," I whispered back, the words feeling both new and ancient on my tongue. "Not because you saved me or protected me, but because you saw me—truly saw me—when no one else did."
We remained in each other's arms, savoring the moment of truth between us. Whatever the ritual would bring, whatever challenges awaited beyond these mountains, we faced them not as guardian and heir, but as two beings who had found in each other something worth fighting for—something worth living for.
As midnight approached, Morana summoned us to the heart of the mountain—a natural cathedral of stone where crystals glowed with internal light and a perfect circle had been carved into the floor, filled with symbols I somehow recognized despite never having seen them before.
"The royal blood remembers," Morana explained, noting my recognition. "Even when the conscious mind forgets, the blood retains the knowledge of generations."
She had prepared everything for the ritual—the circle inscribed with ancient runes, candles placed at cardinal points, the silver bowl positioned at the center. Adrian and I had bathed and changed into the ceremonial garments she provided—simple robes of white for me, black for Adrian, both embroidered with the crescent moon symbol of my birthmark.
"The ritual has three phases," Morana instructed as we took our places within the circle. "First, the Remembrance, where royal blood recalls its heritage. Second, the Awakening, where dormant powers fully manifest. Third, the Bonding, where royal and guardian become one in blood and purpose."
She handed each of us a ceremonial dagger, its blade inscribed with runes that glowed faintly in the crystal light. "Begin when the crystals shine brightest," she said, stepping outside the circle. "Trust your blood to guide you."
As if responding to her words, the crystals pulsed with increasing light, bathing the chamber in an ethereal glow. Adrian and I stood facing each other across the silver bowl, daggers in hand.
"Are you ready?" he asked softly.
I nodded, suddenly certain despite the magnitude of what we were undertaking. "I've been ready since I first opened my eyes in your castle."
As the crystals reached their peak brightness, I drew the dagger across my palm, allowing seven drops of blood to fall into the silver bowl. Adrian did the same, our blood mingling in the ancient vessel.
The effect was immediate and astonishing. The combined blood rose from the bowl of its own accord, forming a spinning sphere that emitted crimson light. Within that light, I began to see images—memories not my own but belonging to my bloodline.
I saw the first vampire queen, wild and powerful, establishing dominion over the night. I witnessed centuries of rule, the development of blood magic, the building of a civilization hidden from human eyes. I experienced the love and loss, triumph and tragedy of generations of my ancestors—their knowledge flowing into me, filling gaps I hadn't known existed.
"The Remembrance," Morana's voice came as if from a great distance. "Accept what is yours by birthright."
I opened myself to the flood of memories, letting them settle into my consciousness like pieces of a puzzle finally finding their proper places. With each memory came understanding—of royal responsibilities, of blood magic's true potential, of the covenant between ruler and ruled that had sustained vampire society for millennia.
The spinning blood sphere pulsed, then expanded to envelop me completely. I felt my dormant powers stirring, awakening fully as ancestral knowledge unlocked capabilities that had been sealed within my blood. Power coursed through me—not the partial abilities I had been using, but the full spectrum of royal blood magic, unfettered and complete.
"The Awakening," Morana intoned. "Embrace your true nature."
The blood sphere expanded further, now encompassing both Adrian and me. Our separate blood merged more completely, creating patterns of light that wove around and between us, drawing us physically closer until we stood mere inches apart.
"The Bonding," Morana's voice guided. "Two bloods, one purpose. Two souls, one destiny."
Adrian's eyes met mine, crimson depths filled with emotion. "I pledge my blood, my life, my soul to you," he said, the ritual words coming naturally to him. "Not just as guardian to heir, but as man to woman. In darkness and in light, in peace and in war, until the final night claims us both."
The words resonated within me, and I found myself responding with phrases I somehow knew, though I had never heard them before. "I accept your pledge and offer my own in return. My blood to strengthen you, my life entwined with yours, my soul bound to yours through all the nights to come."
As the final words left my lips, the blood sphere contracted suddenly, driving into our bodies with such force that we both gasped. I felt Adrian's blood merging with mine at the most fundamental level—not just mixing but truly becoming one. His memories became accessible to me as mine to him, his strengths complementing my weaknesses and mine his.
The sensation was overwhelming—intimate beyond anything physical, a joining so complete that for a moment I couldn't tell where I ended and he began. Through our merged blood, I felt his centuries of loneliness, his unwavering dedication to finding me, and most powerfully, his love—deep, steadfast, and absolute.
In return, he experienced my years of isolation, my struggle for self-worth, and the blossoming of feelings I had never expected to find—trust, hope, and a love that had grown from gratitude to something far more profound.
When the ritual reached its climax, a shockwave of power emanated from our joined hands, rippling outward with such force that the crystals in the chamber resonated in harmonic response. The blood sphere dissolved, absorbed completely into our bodies, but the connection remained—a permanent bond I could feel like a golden thread linking us across any distance.
"It is done," Morana announced, her black eyes reflecting the fading light. "The last royal heir is fully awakened. The blood bond is complete."
I looked down at my palm where I had cut myself. The wound had healed, but in its place was a new mark—my crescent moon birthmark now intertwined with Adrian's guardian symbol, a permanent testament to our bond.
Adrian bore the same mark on his palm. When our eyes met again, I saw that his had changed—still crimson, but now with flecks of royal purple, the color of my fully awakened blood.
"How do you feel?" he asked softly.
"Complete," I replied, the word inadequate for the transformation I had undergone. "As though I've finally become who I was always meant to be."
"The bond will strengthen over time," Morana explained, approaching us with goblets of revitalizing blood. "You will be able to sense each other across great distances, share strength when needed, even communicate without words when the connection deepens further."
We accepted the goblets gratefully, the ritual having depleted our energy despite the power it had awakened. As I drank, I became aware of new abilities settling into place—knowledge of ancient blood magic techniques, understanding of royal protocols, even languages I had never studied but now somehow knew.
"There is one more thing," Morana said when we had finished drinking. "The ritual has awakened not just your powers but your presence in the vampire world. Those sensitive to such things will have felt it—including the Council."
"How long do we have?" Adrian asked, instantly alert.
"Days, perhaps hours," Morana replied grimly. "They will know a royal has awakened, though not yet who or where. We must move quickly if you are to face them on your terms rather than theirs."
"I need to gather allies," I decided. "Those loyal to the old bloodline who will stand with us against the Council."
"Some already await you," Morana revealed. "I have maintained contact with those who remained faithful to the royal line. They have prepared for this day for centuries."
"How many?" Adrian asked.
"Enough to form the beginning of a court," Morana said. "Not enough for open war, if it comes to that."
I exchanged glances with Adrian, feeling his thoughts through our new bond. "Then we avoid open war," I said. "At least until we've secured more support."
"A wise approach," Morana approved. "Now rest. The ritual has changed you both in ways that will continue to manifest. Tomorrow, we begin the journey to reclaim your throne."
As Morana left us alone in the chamber, Adrian drew me into his arms. The embrace felt different now—our blood recognizing itself in the other, our bond humming with shared energy.
"My queen," he murmured against my hair, the title both formal and intimate on his lips.
"Not yet," I corrected gently. "First, we must face the Council."
"We will," Adrian assured me. "And they will find you far more formidable than they expect."
I smiled against his chest, feeling the truth of his words. I was no longer the defective outcast or even the partially awakened heir. I was Ella of the Crimson Dynasty, last of the royal bloodline, bonded to my chosen guardian and consort.
And heaven help anyone who stood in our way.
