Witch's Daughter And The Devil's Son Chapter 781: Marking Ceremony

Stepping through the imposing entrance of the council chamber, Drayce and Seren found themselves amid assembled councilors, clan elders, mighty supernaturals, the King and his consort. As they advanced inward, every eye locked onto them—the spectacle of the Red Dragon guiding his mate toward the chamber's core.

For many, this marked their initial glimpse of a Dragon claiming his mate through a formal rite, distinct from Draven's private bonding with Ember. Those rare instances of a Black Dragon imprinting his mate brimmed with profound astonishment rather than joy.

The burden of numerous intense stares from the powerful supernaturals pressed upon Seren, each exuding vast might. Overwhelm washed over her. Noticing her unease, Drayce gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, his thumb gently stroking the back of it to soothe her.

King of Agartha, Draven, occupied his throne with Erlos at his side, while Ember sat with the supernaturals, Morpheus beside her.

Arriving at the hall's center, Drayce and Seren halted, facing one another before the ritual altar after paying respects to the King.

Draven stood from his seat, his dominant aura instantly captivating the entire assembly.

"Today, we assemble to behold the bonding of a Red Dragon with his mate," Draven's commanding voice boomed with authority. "This marking seals their connection and embodies the power and solidarity of our race."

Drayce kept his loving, steady gaze fixed on his anxious mate. "You'll be fine," he murmured reassuringly, his tone calm and soothing.

With a nod, Seren fought to calm her pounding heart. Books had described this rite, yet none readied her for its truth. Uncertainty lingered, but Drayce's nearness bolstered her resolve.

Clan elders united in chanting, their voices weaving a spell that vibrated across the council hall. An otherworldly shimmer filled the air, signaling the ancient ceremony's start—a Dragon poised to claim his mate.

Drayce drew in a deep breath, the primal force of the incantations surging within him. His form stirred under its influence, the shadowy essence inside him rousing. Eyes shutting briefly, he shifted, shadows coiling around him.

Seren sensed the surge in his energy and beheld his gradual shift into Erebus for the first time.

Drayce's change into Erebus unleashed a terrifying aura of darkness from his once-amiable shape, jolting all present. The Red Dragon's raw might shone forth, stirring questions about the source of such infernal power—who had passed it to him?

Thin black veins traced around his eyes, and upon opening them, they gleamed pure black, absent any sclera. His fearsome visage daunted onlookers, save Seren. Meeting his stare firmly, she whispered, "Erebus."

Erebus's cold, impassive eyes fixed on her as he approached to claim his mate. Seren remained poised, heart firm, watching his gaze slide to her neck then back up. His hand cradled the nape of her head, drawing his face near.

The hall's occupants froze in suspense, awaiting the Red Dragon's marking. Yet, what unfolded surpassed the ritual's norm in intimacy.

Rather than bite, Erebus kissed her. Pouring the starved fervor of a dragon into it, he seized her lips with blazing desire. Seren responded fearlessly, surrendering to the kiss amid obliviousness to the crowd.

There, Seren grasped that Erebus cherished her as deeply as Drayce. No savage urge propelled him; otherwise, marking would precede. This kiss revealed his heart's yearning for her, beyond any rite—love mattered most.

The assembly gaped at this primal display of draconic devotion, utterly unforeseen.

"The way your son kisses her, I hope he doesn't smother my daughter and faint her out before marking," Sierra remarked wryly.

Evanthe smirked back, "Your daughter's fortunate for such fervent draconic love. It carries its own allure. But you wouldn't get it—you've gone untouched nearly twenty years."

"Like you bedded your men daily?" Sierra snorted. "Such waste, two men in your life, unused."

Yorian, catching their exchange, sighed in exasperation. "Hear how you two speak. A goddess and a queen—your devotees would faint in horror at such irreverence."

Both ladies glared, retorting mockingly.

"You just ready yourself for Arlan and Oriana's marking soon."

"Our crude tongues hide kind hearts. We'll dry your tears, poor elf."

"You two are hopeless," Yorian grumbled, shaking his head and refocusing ahead.

Erebus and Seren parted from the kiss, breaths ragged. He nuzzled into her neck's curve, deeply inhaling her aroma as his lips brushed the impending mark's site.

Seren gripped him tightly, steeling for the inevitable. His hot, wet mouth teased her skin, rough tongue tracing the mark's path. She strained to heed the elders' enchanting chants resounding through the hall.

Suddenly, breath snagged in her throat. Fierce, burning agony ripped through her, too potent for any cry. It engulfed her.

Erebus drove his fangs into her flesh, eyes shut as their essences merged into an eternal link.

Ember, among the seated, shivered recalling her dual markings' torment.

Draven caught her emotional flux and looked her way, as did Morpheus beside her, his hand steadying her shoulder—he shared her feelings via their bond.

Ember met Draven's then Morpheus's eyes, smiling faintly to confirm her well-being.

Finishing, Erebus withdrew and lapped the mark with his tongue, savoring his mate's sweet blood's taste.

Seren blacked out, her form collapsing into his embrace.

Erebus cradled her, tenderly stroking her lovely features before vanishing from sight before all.

"He couldn't wait to leave," Evanthe observed.

"Can he handle Seren alone? He's not Drayce, accustomed to tending her every need," Sierra fretted.

Yorian added, "Evanthe, as his mother, only you might approach his lair safely. We others would perish trying."

"I'll check on them shortly," Evanthe promised. "Not yet—he craves solitude with his mate now."