Ileus: The Dark Prince

Iona was acutely aware of the nobility of Galahar, which mostly consisted of council members. She knew that they were all looking at her and despite trying her best to maintain her cool, she was finding herself to slip on the edge. And Rolfe could see how she was fidgeting. As if understanding her, Rolfe leaned over and whispered, "I love the oil you've put on yourself. The scent is one of my favorites." She gave him a nervous smile and bit her bottom plump lip. "Don't you bite that lip. That's for me to bite," he said as a low rumble formed in his chest. Iona blushed and lowered her head, totally distracted from what she was thinking. 

The priest took a long time to conduct the ceremony. In the end, he asked Iona to bring forward her palm. When she gave him her palm, he sliced it with a sharp dagger, leaving a trail of blood. The priest held her palm and offered it to his prince. 

Rolfe took her palm in his hands and then lifted it to his mouth and licked the blood. For a moment, something snapped in her and her vision was filled with stars. It was as if a thousand orbs of blinding light flashed. Rolfe placed his palm over hers as she saw her blood smeared on his lips. Light spilled in a flood around them as if a hundred golden urns poured out of golden light. The light swirled around them and she felt something—a thread binding them tightly together. Iona couldn't explain what was happening to her. It was as if she was infused with Rolfe's powers with each passing second. She could feel his strength and his emotions like they were real, like they were life. At that moment she felt that even if she merged in him, she would be happy to do so. 

Iona looked in his intense green eyes as he looked in hers oblivious to the gasps around. When the lights around them faded, she heard the demon nobility whispering:

"It's the first time we have witnessed a wedding so sacred."

"They truly are the mates."

"Yes, it is now proven that she is the royal mate." 

"Prince Rolfe did a good thing by proving his claim over her over here." 

"Why?" 

"Now we all stand a witness to the fact that she is his mate and according to the rules of the kingdom of Galahar, no one can stop her from being the queen!" 

And it was the first time, Ileus, who was also listening to those comments, understood why Rolfe hurried into marrying Iona. The clever demon wanted to prove it to all of them that she was indeed his mate. This meant that the nobility was doubting his claim. His skin was still having goosebumps after he saw how golden light engulfed them as soon as Rolfe had pressed his mouth to Iona's palm. It was stunning, it was blinding and no one could see the two of them. The ritual was so sacred that it was only for the bride and groom to see. And the way Iona was covered in the light, she looked like a star amongst them—her golden dress shimmering just like his. On the inside he knew that she couldn't have ever found a better groom than Rolfe and on the inside he was grateful to his wife, Anastasia, for plunging the Evindal sword in his sister. It was a way of the Lore for maintaining the balance. He also noticed one thing—his mother's magic had receded. 

"The ceremony will be over once you take your vows," said the priest. "Iona is bound to you by a blood oath." 

Rolfe took both her hands and looked at her with eyes that were shining. In demonic language he said, "I promise to serve you, my queen, from now until the day I fade in the shadows. I promise to be by your side till I breathe my last and even in the after world. I vow that I will never ever leave you and if I do, may the Lore take my life." 

Iona gasped. She wanted to put her finger on his lips, but seeing that she was supposed to show her agreement, she managed to squeeze his hands tightly. Her eyes became watery and her lips trembled. "Rolfy…" she murmured. 

The priest then asked her to take her vows. 

Iona looked at her friend, her lover, her mate. In a month's time, she had not only come to know him, but she had become his wife. It was a big leap in her life. Holding back the tears that were threatening to roll down her eyes. From all her experience she had had in her little life, the words that tumbled out of her mouth marked her feelings. And Iona said, "Rolfe, never force me to leave you or turn away from you. The Lore is full of deceptions and deceptive people. So, I will go where you go and I will stay where you will stay. Your people will be my people and I will worship the God you worship. I will follow you in this life and die when you die to follow you in after life. May your, no, our God punish me ruthlessly if I falter in my duties towards you."

And Rolfe choked. He had no words for the vows his wife made. He continued to stare at her with his intense green eyes as he battled with the tears. His breath became shallow. He leaned forward and even before the priest could say, 'You may kiss her', he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her on her cheeks and poured his emotions in her soul with that kiss. Once he kissed her, he rested his forehead on hers and said, "Why did you make such a severe vow, Iona?" 

Her lips trembled as she gripped his forearms for support. "Because there was nothing else I could think of." 

And Rolfe knew that his mate was the most innocent girl of the Lore, most delicate flower in the world—one who he would protect with this life. "I love you," he whispered. 

"I love you, too," she replied. 

The priest waited until the two were standing apart. Then he stepped in between them, took their hands and raised them to the public. "I present you the prince and princess of the kingdom of Galahar." 

Among the loud cheers and whoops, Rolfe took his wife's hand in hers and stepped down the dais. They walked to Ileus and Anastasia first and found that Kaizan was also present there, though he was sitting on a chair. Ileus hugged his sister and said, "I have a surprise for you, Iona." He winked as she frowned and then embraced Rolfe in a bear hug. "Welcome to the family demon!" he said with a grin. 

Anastasia hugged Iona. "That was a beautiful vow, Iona," she said. "Are you ready for your surprise?" 

"What surprise?" Iona asked. The day was only getting better and better. 

Suddenly a familiar smell hit her nostrils, but before she could turn, warm hands wrapped a soft cashmere shawl across her shoulders, and a female voice came, "My baby…"