Inked

over to the dais. Nori held her hands over my chest and warmth rained down from her body. Liliabett did the same to Trillian. Living beacons of passion, they were desire incarnate.
    After a moment, Nori said, “We’re ready to begin. Camille Sepharial te Maria, do you undergo this ritual freely, of your own will, knowing that what will be done can never be undone?”
    I licked my lips. “Yes. I do swear.” My voice was a whisper on the wind.
    “Trillian Leshon Zanzera, do you undergo this ritual freely, of your own will, knowing that what will be done can never be undone?” Liliabett’s voice was the perfect counterpoint, as sultry and warm as Nori’s was cool and melodic.
    “I do, by my oath and honor.” His voice spiraled up and then out as if he’d never said a word.
    “Then we begin.”
    Nori narrowed her brow, focusing on me as she lifted a fine-tipped brush and dipped it into a silver paint pot. With a steady hand, she began to trace an outline on my forehead, a swirl of glyphs, fine-lined and delicately fashioned. I closed my eyes as she worked, line by line covering my face.
    The tracing tickled, but I remained perfectly still as she worked her way down my neck, leaving a trail of runes that sang as they touched my skin. Magic, her art was, and magic was the paint.
    Onto my shoulders, working in silence, she deftly covered me. And then to my chest, making me suck in a quick breath as desire rose fiercely. She stroked my nipples with the tip of the brush, then the curve of my breasts, the under-carriage and down to my torso.
    I began to drift, the rhythmic kiss of the brush lulling me into an erotic haze. The bristles flickered over my stomach, then down to my thighs and across my mound. She gently nudged open my thighs and spread open my labia, painting runes along my pussy and onto my clitoris. I shuddered, trying to control the hunger that flared as she touched me.
    And down my legs, along my knees, encircling my ankles, she went. By the time she finished, I saw that Trillian was as covered—and aroused—as I was. The paint dried quickly, and we gently flipped onto our stomachs. The priestesses worked their way down our backsides, covering every inch of us with the silver glyphs and symbols.
    When they were finally done, they asked us to stand. I gazed down at myself—a vision of silver fire on pale skin. Trillian cleared his throat. He was silver on black, the contrast incredibly beautiful. Like spun metal shining against dark velvet.
    “Follow us,” Nori said, and the two women led us out of the main chamber and into a private room, in which there was a bed that sat atop a floor covered in runes. She held out a bottle as we knelt in front of her.
    Liliabett reached for my hand and I offered it, palm up. She placed a silver goblet beneath my palm and with a curved blade, slashed an inch-long shallow gash across the pad. As I watched, blood spilled into the goblet. After a moment, she did the same with Trillian.
    Nori poured the contents of the bottle into the goblet and a swirl of smoke rose, boiling over the rim. She held the goblet out to me.
    “Take it.”
    As I held the glass, she began to sing a low song in a language I didn’t understand. But her energy flared brightly. She was a shining jewel.
    “Drink and bind yourself through your bodies, through your souls.”
    I lifted the goblet, then glanced at Trillian. This was it. There was no going back. Before I could think about it, I swallowed a mouthful of the potion and fire raced through my body, arching me back. I would have dropped the goblet, but Nori caught it and handed it to Trillian, who tipped it to his lips and finished what was left. He shivered, clutching his arms to his chest as the pain took hold.
    Nori stepped back. “And now, one thing remains to seal your union. If you do not consummate your relationship now, you will forever be half-bound, weak and hating each other. You must finish the ritual.”
    She and Liliabett excused themselves from the room.
    I turned to Trillian, barely able to stand, the spasms were so intense. But as I tried to sort through the pain, I realized what I was feeling was actually desire—aching, searing lust so strong that it was cramping my body.
    Trillian lifted his head to look at me. Behind the veil of his sky blue eyes, I could see the primal god. The lord of the forest, the lord of the rut, the lord of the horn. He leapt to his feet and for a brief moment I was afraid, but then the