Mated to the Warg (Wargs of the Outland, #1)

Mating Moon

Day gave way to night. All too soon the Mating Moon set in to mantle the world in darkness.

The way Thesta had explained it, this was a joining—of opposites becoming one. It was the ritual of Mantor, the eye of light in the night sky, and his mate, Nixra, the goddess of night creatures and darkness.

The Mating Moon was the one night a month Mantor dedicated to his mate, leaving the world shrouded in deep shadows. A darkness lit only by Nixra's cascade of glinting silver hair swirling through the sky.

But that cascade of stars was no help to Rowan. She was blind. Blindly being lead by Thesta into the night. And that blindness and darkness only fed her ravening fear. Her stomach felt filled with rocks, her limbs heavy as she trudged through the night. Her breaths gulped in and stuttered out as Thesta steered her along.

She wished she wasn't so aware of the many warg eyes upon her. She hated that her eyes must look wide and groping. She hated looking so weak. So unlike her mother. Elgret would be sneering at her if she could see her now.

After tonight she would bear the title of Har Kani, mate of the wargrex. A wargrix. In essence, their High Lady. Unlike her mother, though, it was a title unearned. A woman could only wear the mantle so long as she was strong enough to bear its weight. Elgret had taken up that mantle after her own father had named her his successor. Rowan's father had been High Lord consort only. And while no one expected Elgret to die any time soon, it was still...unusual that she'd not yet chosen her heir apparent. Rowan had been dreading it, in truth. All these years, she'd been terrified of her mother naming another. But more terrified still of being the one chosen.

Yet here she was chosen anyway, to bear a mantle just as weighty. And not of her choosing, either.

Thesta had prepared her, in part, for what was to come, but knowing what would happen tonight only increased her apprehension. Not being able to see the ritual, nor understand what was being said, seemed a cruelty. She was at a terrible disadvantage here. Even so, she knew, logically, she wasn't some human conduit for their evil cruelty. The Ritual of Darkness was observed even at West Gate. All in deference to Mantor's mate. As in Carthyrk, it was no different at home.

Humans also observed the eccentricities of the outland gods. Back at Black Bridge Castle, the only light allowed tonight would be the firelights necessary for warmth, and nothing more. The High Lady upheld whatever mores and rituals secured her people's safety, even those imposed by other species—whatever it took to keep peace at her gate. Rowan knew no gods other than those of the outland. Wrais and her gods were too far away to matter to the people living on the fringes.

Rowan tripped over invisible terrain for the hundredth time, huffing in fear, adrenaline heightening her senses. She pulled on the sleeve of her shift, hating how sheer it was. She knew she looked indecent.

Thesta answered with one of her impatient little clucks, hand tightening on Rowan's elbow. "Stop fidgeting."

"Easy for you to say," she muttered, throwing a glare into the dark void where she knew Thesta to be. "You're not being lead to the gallows, blindfolded."

Another cluck. "So dramatic."

"I feel naked!" she hissed.

"So?" This time Thesta chuckled. "I am naked, what's your point?"

Right. These wargs were far too comfortable in their bare skins. It was unnerving.

Thesta suddenly halted beside her, ousting all thoughts of nakedness.

Rowan froze. If she'd had warg ears, they'd be standing alert. All her other senses were straining to make up for her lack of sight. She felt almost bereft when Thesta's fingers dropped away.