Luca's POV
The ceremonial chamber is beautiful.
Candles everywhere—hundreds of them, casting warm light across silk-covered surfaces. Rose petals scattered across the massive bed. Incense burning, filling the air with spice and smoke.
Romantic. Seductive. Terrifying.
Rian sets me down gently, hands lingering on my waist.
"How do you feel?" he asks.
"Overwhelmed. The bond—it's so much stronger now."
"I know. I feel it too." His thumb brushes my new bite mark, and I shiver. "Does it hurt?"
"No. It tingles. Feels warm."
"That's the bond settling." He steps back slightly. "We can wait if you need time—"
"No." I grab his hand. "I want to finish this. Complete the bond fully."
"You're sure?"
"I'm terrified," I admit. "But yes. I'm sure."
His eyes darken. "Then I'm going to make this good for you. So good you'll never regret choosing me."
He kisses me—deep, consuming, claiming. I kiss back desperately, hands sliding up his chest, feeling the ritual markings still painted on his skin.
His hands are everywhere—tracing my spine, gripping my hips, tangling in my hair. Every touch sends sparks through the bond, amplifying sensation.
"You're so beautiful," he murmurs against my lips. "So perfect. Mine."
He walks me backward toward the bed. When my legs hit the mattress, I sit.
Rian kneels before me—the Alpha on his knees—and something about that posture makes my breath catch.
"I'm going to worship you," he says, hands sliding up my thighs. "Take my time. Learn what makes you come apart."
"Rian—"
"Let me. Please." His eyes meet mine. "Let me show you how much I love you."
I nod, unable to speak.
He removes my ceremonial jewelry carefully—wrist cuffs, collar, chains. Kisses each piece of revealed skin.
Then he removes my pants, leaving me completely naked.
I should be embarrassed. Vulnerable. Instead, the way he looks at me—like I'm precious, worshipped—makes me feel powerful.
"Lie back," he commands softly.
I do.
He starts at my feet—kissing, nibbling, working his way up. Ankles, calves, thighs. Avoiding where I want him most, teasing mercilessly.
"Rian, please—"
"Patience." His smile is wicked. "I told you I'd take my time."
By the time his mouth finally closes around me, I'm gasping, desperate, aching with need.
"Oh god—"
He works me expertly, taking me deep, using his tongue and hands in combination that has me writhing.
"That's it," he murmurs. "Let me hear you. Don't hold back."
I don't. Can't. The pleasure is too intense, the bond amplifying every sensation.
When I'm close—so close—he pulls back.
"Not yet," he says, eyes amber. "Not until I'm inside you."