The fireside crackled low, casting flickering shadows across the stone walls of Velrith's private chamber.
Clementine knelt by the low table near the hearth, her head bowed in a stillness that was not submission... but expectation.
Velrith set the last of Kraves's reports aside, her mind turning sharp as a blade honed to perfection.
The chamber, filled earlier with the politics of feasts and alliances, now felt smaller. Thicker.
More intimate.
She rose slowly, her ceremonial night-robe whispering against the cold stone floor.
Barefoot, silent, she crossed the space between them until she stood over Clementine her shadow falling like a veil over the kneeling woman.
"You've served well," Velrith said, voice like velvet drawn over tempered steel.
Clementine lifted her gaze.
Silver eyes glimmered in the firelight not pleading, not desperate.
Ready.
Waiting.
Velrith could feel it thrumming from her skin: a hunger so finely veiled it almost passed for discipline.
Almost.
"Relax," Velrith instructed, her voice dipping lower.
Clementine obeyed, rising gracefully to her feet, standing proud before her queen.
Velrith circled her, slow and deliberate, studying her the way a master craftsman studies the blade he intends to forge.
"You have offered service," Velrith murmured.
"You have delivered knowledge."
She paused behind Clementine, her hand grazing lightly over the woman's shoulder, just enough to make her breath catch.
"But that is not all you offer, is it?"
Silence stretched, heavy and expectant.
Velrith stepped closer, her lips near Clementine's ear.
A whisper of breath, a brush of dominance.
"You offer yourself."
Clementine's hands trembled ever so slightly, but her voice when it came was clear.
"My Queen... I offer willingly. Without hesitation. Without fear."
Velrith's fingers brushed under Clementine's chin, lifting her gaze higher.
She saw no falsehood.
No greed.
Only raw, unfiltered devotion.
Not of a servant seeking reward.
But of a soul offering itself freely.
"For this bond," Velrith said, "there are no chains. No cages. Only choice. And once it is done, it cannot be undone."
"I am prepared," Clementine whispered.
Deep inside, Velira stirred, purring with satisfaction.
"Take her," the darker self whispered in Velrith's mind. "Bind her. Taste her loyalty. Drink it into your bones."
Velrith reached into herself, drawing upon the ancient rites buried deep within her bloodline.
Her aura surged, a storm of crimson fire and dark mist.
Her eyes ignited, burning with eldritch light.
Velira flowed closer to the surface not to take control fully, but to lend her the full weight of her dominion.
Magic coiled around Velrith's body like a living crown, oppressive and intoxicating.
Clementine knelt again, trembling not from fear but from the sheer gravity of the moment.
Velrith picks up the bowl. With one swift motion velrith remove tear away the gown of clementine using her sharp nails as claws.
Clementine in front of velrith, with deliberate care, dipped her fingers into a shallow silver bowl on the table filled with binding ink mixed with her own blood.
A sacred, ancient mixture.
A true queen's mark.
Velrith whispered the old words of the rite, a language so old it made the fire shiver.
Symbols of dominion.
Symbols of possession.
Symbols of eternal loyalty.
She began to mark Clementine:
First, across the forehead to claim her thoughts.
Then along her throat to claim her voice.
Across the heart to claim her love.
Down her spine to claim her strength.
And finally, between her hips to claim her devotion, her fertility, her very essence.
The magic seeped into Clementine's soul, binding more than flesh.
Binding fate.
Each symbol burned briefly against Clementine's skin before seeping in, becoming part of her.
Clementine gasped with every touch, every burn but did not resist.
She bared herself to it.
Hungered for it.
Velrith leaned in close, her breath brushing Clementine's ear."You are being remade," she murmured."Not broken. Not erased. You are becoming ours."
Velira's presence thickened behind Velrith's own mind, guiding her hand — an ancient artist perfecting her masterpiece.
When the sigils were complete, Velrith rose, drawing a ceremonial dagger from her robe — the blade black as night and etched with runes of her house.
She sliced her palm cleanly, dark blood welling from the wound.
Without hesitation, she pressed it to Clementine's lips.
"Drink," she commanded.
Clementine obeyed, mouth opening to take the blood onto her tongue.
Velrith cut Clementine's palm next, catching the blood in her own hand, and brought it to her own lips, drinking in turn.
Their magic collided.
A bond sealed.
But it was not finished.
Velrith moved swiftly then, sinking her fangs into Clementine's throat — a sharp, claiming bite that made Clementine cry out softly, half in pain, half in overwhelming pleasure.
The mark would remain there.
Visible.
Irrevocable.
Velrith lifted Clementine's chin with possessive fingers, claiming her mouth in a kiss that sealed the last breath of the ritual a kiss fueled by blood, dominance, and dark devotion.
When Velrith finally pulled away, Clementine's body sagged, overwhelmed.
She collapsed into her queen's arms, smiling in pure, untainted rapture before losing consciousness.
Velrith gathered her up effortlessly, carrying her to the grand bed draped in black silks.
As she laid Clementine down, the sigils on her skin pulsed once, twice, then sank deep into flesh and soul.
The bond was complete.
Velrith stood over her, the firelight glinting off her golden eyes, now slit like a true demon queen's.
"You are mine now," she said, voice a low decree."Not by chains. Not by fear. But by will. By blood. By choice."
Velira purred inside her.
"She is your first."
"But not your last."
Velrith lowered herself onto the bed, resting her forehead briefly against Clementine's acknowledging the sacred bond in silence.
And for the first time since she had worn the crown...
Velrith felt no doubt.
No loneliness.
Only the intoxicating certainty that her reign would not be carried on mere alliances or treaties.
It would be built on devotion.
One loyal soul at a time.
Bound.
Branded.
Hers.
Forever.