The Reaper's Wicked Obsession
Chapter 258: The Mating Ritual (1)

Chapter 258: The Mating Ritual (1)

Isadora walked barefoot on the grass laid with white roses. She wore a long, slender white silk gown. Her hands clutched the sides to enable her to move easily.

Her long, golden blonde was freed of her braid, letting it fall past her hips. A crown of white roses sat atop her head, too.

Runes painted in white were drawn straight, from her forehead to her chin, and another crossed her cheeks, small but complex to the last curve.

Isadora made a turn and found a path of trees like an aisle leading to a space in the epicenter.

She halted, suddenly nervous to move forward. When she does this, there will be no going back. But there were no second thoughts, she had never been more sure about anything in her entire life.

Kraven was her future and destiny, she wouldn’t change that for anything.

Taking several gulps and clenching her fist tightly at her sides, Isadora strode the aisle.

White long veils draped the tree’s branches and flowed down to the ground, obstructing her view as they swirled in the gentle wind.

The closer she got to the epicenter, the more she could make out the details.

There was a vast stone platform in the shape of a circle, and white rose petals were laid around it, making it seem magical.

The moment Isadora’s eyes pinned on silver ones, the rest of the world ceased to exist.

He was dressed in white attire, with rune markings on his face, just like hers.

Isadora reached him, and he stretched his hand for her to take. Without hesitation, she grabbed it, and he pulled her up the platform, holding her tightly as if he let go, she would disappear.

Kraven couldn’t take his eyes off her, a smile on his lips as he took a strand of her hair behind her ear. "You’re breathtaking," he said in a ragged whisper.

Isadora’s cheeks tinted red at his words, the blush spreading down to her neck and the top of her bosom.

She remained speechless, her eyes absorbing the massive Fae standing before her, and clutching her like a lifeline.

Kraven led them to sit and discern how her hand quivered under his touch.

"Nervous, darling?"

Isadora nodded only.

"I am too," he amused.

"You don’t look nervous," she finally found her voice, pinning him with a questioning look.

He chuckled. "Let’s say my heart has been doing flips since you walked down that aisle."

"The world must be coming to an end if the Reaper is anxious," Isadora teased.

"Gods! I want to kiss you right now," he confessed. "But we have to do the ritual first." He shifted his gaze to the platform they sat on, where there was a quill and ink.

Isadora had the liberty of asking The Witch about the mating ritual, and she explained it was a ceremony where vows are exchanged.

There was no audience, only the partners, and because the goddess Elska’s spirit would be present once they were dressed in white and the white paint of runes was applied on their faces.

It was a call to Elska to come and witness their union.

Suddenly, the harsh wind blew through, the veil draped on the tree branch waving in one direction, followed by a ghostly tinkle of a bell when there was none in sight

Isadora held onto Kraven tightly as a feeling of a third presence overwhelmed her.

The white rose petals twirled into the air and shrouded them.

Elska was present, and the ritual began.

Isadora grabbed the quill and dipped it into the sacred ink. She brought it close to Kraven’s hand, but she paused, hesitating.

"What should I write?"

"Whatever you want to," Kraven replied, a smile curling on his lips. "What you want the world to know and how much I mean to you."

"I-I have a confession to make, I should have told you before we started this ceremony."

Kraven narrowed his eyes. "What is it?"

Isadora bit her bottom lip. "I can’t read or write," She looked away in embarrassment. "I never got the chance to learn runes, they never make sense to me."

Kraven took her chin and tipped it so that her gaze was back on him. "Then I get the chance to hear your vows while I write them."

"I-Is that okay?"

"Why shouldn’t it?" He took her hand, holding the quill, and lowered it to his left hand. "Elska will be pleased."

This time, he didn’t say it in contempt; he said as if he were proud of what the goddess had given him.

A breathless smile found Isadora’s lips, and with Kraven’s guidance, she wrote her vows, tattooed upon his skin.

Little letters of runes around his left finger covering up to his entire hand, and Kraven did the same, and gave his vows.

Their hands locked together as the ink settled in and a mark was formed that would last for as long as they lived, and even in death, it will never fade.

The wind ceased, but the ghostly tinkling did not stop.

Kraven’s left hand covered Isadora’s delicate neck, her pulse racing beneath his touch, and he savored the moment.

The sound of her heartbeat, and the slight part of her lips, as discomfort seized her.

It was starting.

"Don’t fight it, let it in," Kraven murmured before his jaw tightened, the same discomfort seizing him.

Isadora couldn’t explain what was happening. At first, she felt nothing, just the pain of her hand being tattooed as the tip of the quill punctured her skin, but now, it felt like her chest would burst from an unseen force, and her hand burned like they were on fire.

"Kraven, I can’t—"

Kraven locked his lips against hers to keep her focused on him and not the bonding. He, too, was overcome by the unexplainable sensation that felt like his heart was being divided.

Isadora’s face morphed in pain, but it dissolved as Kraven moved his lips skillfully on hers in a slow, sensual motion that stole her breath away.

Their chest burned as well as the vows written on their hands, and their kiss intensified until Isadora was placed on Kraven’s lap.

Her hands sat on his shoulders, then they glided to his neck and moved to cup his cheeks. The passion of their kiss slowed until it was just about feeling the texture of their lips.

Isadora parted away, eyes closed, her chest rising and falling slowly. The burn was gone and replaced with something else she couldn’t explain.

Whatever the feeling was, it made her feel liberated, and her aura wasn’t just her own anymore; it felt like she had the life force of another, and when the connection set in, her aura changed to a bright, blinding gold.

Her weaves came forth and swirled around her like they had a mind of their own; she didn’t need to conjure it with any hand movement, it materialized and mingled with Kraven’s dark weaves.

Kraven stared in awe as her body glowed, like she had become light itself, bedazzling yet he had never seen anything more beautiful, capable of stealing his breath away.

Isadora opened her eyes, and it glowed in a void. A smile found her lips as she cupped Kraven’s cheeks. She pressed her lips against his, moving, nibbling, and taking control.

Kraven yielded completely, his back met the cold stone.

Isadora leaned down to him, trailing kisses on the scar at his underjaw.

Chill grasped Kraven and, keeping his hands rooted at his sides, became a challenge for him.

When he felt her soft, warm tongue tasting the skin on his neck, he lost it.

But in a heartbeat, Isadora’s golden weaves snaked around his hand, forcing them above his head, keeping them pinned.

"Fuck, darling!" he swore, allowing his weaves to come forth but they were overpowered by the light.

It burned, and Kraven grunted.

"Does it hurt?" Isadora asked, completely pleasure-driven, her body burning too much, and needed something to stir the flame, and the only man capable of doing that was this delicious Fae beneath her, she couldn’t wait to devour.

"I can take it," Kraven said as a wicked grin spread on his lips. "But you know me, darling, I won’t be dominated." He tugged on the weave, and a burn followed; even so, it didn’t hurt to the point he’d rage from it.

It was sweet, scrumptious pain that set his body on fire, and the constriction in his pants became the real war.

"You’ll stay still for me, won’t you?" Isadora said, licking his cheek. "It will only hurt if you fight it."

Kraven almost ruined his pants right there, his eyes glaring at her like he wanted to strangle the life out of her the same way he’d fuck it out.

Kraven didn’t get the chance to collect himself because Isadora lashed her lips back on his neck, and this time, she bit hard.

And it hurts.

Kraven froze at the newfound pain. He thought her light weaves, identical to the goddess Lifara’s, were the only thing that could hurt him, but he thought wrong.

Isadora’s bites stung, and his mind tried to process everything, his body flinching as her teeth marks followed to his abs. She didn’t miss any spot or scar that blemished his golden brown skin.