This I Pledge to You
“Costa, I'm not dressed for this,” I protest as we turn into Pacifica Drive. This is the area where the rich go to. It's the place for fancy restaurants, swanky nightclubs, glitzy boutiques, and luxurious hotels.
“You look gorgeous, sunshine,” he counters, lifting my hand up to his lips.
I remember when River used to drive Reese, Penny, and I around the area just to look at the people and the bright lights. I came dining around here a few times when grandpa Quentin came to visit. Mom made us dressed up very nicely. I look down at myself: black jeans, Constantine's expensive white shirt, but a couple of sizes too big for me, and a pair of white converse. I wonder if there are twigs and dry leaves in my hair.
Constantine pulls in front of The Monarchy, the fanciest hotel and restaurant in the city.
Oh, I am so not dressed for this!
In a flash, he's out of the car, pushing aside the man who's about to take my hand to help me out of the car. He hands the key to his Ferrari to the valet and almost has to drag-carry the very reluctant me up the shiny black marble steps and into the grand foyer.
A man, together with a very well-groomed woman in her early thirties hurries over even before we step inside the opulent restaurant. The maître d' is hot on her heels.
“Your Highness Prince Constantine,” greets the woman with a dip of her well-coiffed head.
“Your Highness,” says the man. “It's so good to see you again.”
They acknowledge me with a respectful little bow of their heads, not even batting an eyelid over my scruffy appearance.
“Marisol, Jefferson,” Constantine acknowledges them with a curt, but polite nod.
“They're already waiting, Your Highness,” informs the woman.
“Right this way,” says the man, extending his hand towards the restaurant.
“You come here often?” I ask Constantine.
“Sometimes...” he answers. “My family from my mother's side owns this place.”
The restaurant is posh and stylish with luminous natural stone walls, and floor to ceiling glass paneling overlooking the well-lit gardens. The interior gleams with polished wine glasses and moody lighting from the chandeliers and well-placed ambiance lights. Another thing I notice besides the elegant setting is the delicious smell of food.
Ahhh... food.
The opulent room is full of guests. Men in their expensive suits, and women in beautiful designer dresses. I want to disappear into the walls.
Some of them are humans, but I sense many of them are werewolves. Conversations hushed and the well-dressed patrons look up as soon as we step in. I can't blame them. Constantine looks gorgeous even in just his t-shirt and jeans. His hair is carelessly and sexily mussed up as usual. He reeks the air of importance and power. There's also a combination of danger and reckless sex appeal that is hard to ignore. I probably look like something that a cat or rather a lycan drags in.
Constantine pulls me closer to him as we walk past the tables. His hand on the small of my back moves to grip my hip possessively.
“I can't stand it when the men stare at you like that,” he growls lowly in my ear.
Like what? All I can see is the women eyeing him with interest, even those dining with their partners. I notice their lustful gaze following his every footstep.
We walk through the restaurant to the side door that leads to a magnificent courtyard. Beautiful miniature trees and flower bushes, a fish pond with a water fountain right in the center, filled with koi. Lights illuminate every tree and bush and from inside the pond. I don't have the time to appreciate the beauty as we walk briskly through it into another building.
A very good-looking group of two men and three women come up to meet us. Lycans.
“Constantine,” says a gorgeous man who looks like he's in his mid-twenties. He approaches us with an outstretched hand.
“Sullivan,” replies Constantine, casually taking the man's hand in his. The man fondly and playfully slaps his back with familiarity.
“We are all the King's loyal and humble subjects, eager to meet his nephew's beautiful mate,” he turns his attention to me. “I've known Constantine since he was just a little troublemaker.” He grins.
“Still is,” I mumble and the man lets out a hearty laugh.
“We consider them close family friends. They've been working for us for centuries,” remarks Constantine to me after he made the introduction.
“King Alexandros and your grandmother must be eager to meet your lovely mate soon,” suggests one of the ladies.
I never thought about meeting his family!
We are then lead into a beautiful private room where Caspian, Lazarus, and Serena are already waiting.
As soon as they left, Serena leaps up and quickly engulfs me in a big hug. “You are truly and totally one of us now,” she exclaims. “You're a Romanov!”
“Finally!” Caspian jumps in while Lazarus pounds Constantine's back enthusiastically.
I can feel my cheeks burning up. Oh, for the love of everything fuzzy! How did everyone know? I could dig a hole, crawl in and hide inside it forever!
As soon as Serena releases me, Caspian wraps his massive arms around me and twirls me around happily. I guess his ire for me this morning is all forgotten now.
Constantine growls warningly and Caspian put me down on my feet right away, grinning widely.
Constantine's big strong arms pull me against his muscled chest as soon as my feet touch the ground.
“Now the celebration,” announces Lazarus.
I guess this is like marriage to humans. Only markings hold more meaning to us. Once we've marked each other, we are forever connected. We leave a mark forever, not only on each other's skin but also on each other's soul. Entwining our souls together. One cannot survive with only half a soul. One cannot live without the other for too long. We sometimes hold a wedding ceremony just for the formality or for the celebration, and as an announcement of our union. The true vow of our union is in our mating and marking, which is just between the two of us.
“How'd you know?” I manage to ask.
“We felt the connection as soon as you were marked,” answers Serena.
“Nothing is private around here.” I sigh. Oh, well, so much for going into the mountains, far away from civilization for privacy.
“Oh, be thankful, love. Hundreds of years ago, they used to have the mating and the marking ceremony out in the open field, beside big bonfires with pack members in attendance,” remarks Caspian, gleefully ruffling my hair.
“Ewww...” I wrinkle my nose in disgust, swatting his hand away.
“Prude,” mutters Caspian, with a smirk.
“Shut up!” I reply.
“We'd better separate these two before they start a food fight or something,” suggests Lazarus. “I don't know what everybody wants, so I ordered us a small buffet.”
Ahhh... food!
Now I notice a table covered in a pristine white damask table cloth, laden with delectable food at the far end of the room. That's where the smell comes from. A lavish buffet just for the five of us. I think I'm so hungry, I suddenly developed a tunnel vision. I can see nothing else but food. Oh food, how I missed you.
There is an antipasto section with a selection of cheeses, fresh fruits, nuts, cured meats, and vegetables; a section of delicious spread of international cuisine, from Continental to Asian; succulent chicken, beef, and seafood dishes; and mouthwatering desserts. This is not a small buffet, but I'm not complaining. Everything looks good. I pile everything I can fit onto my plate. I stuff myself until I'm...well, stuffed.
“Now time for your pledge,” announces Lazarus after dinner before Caspian and I can get deeper into another round of bickering. I actually missed bickering with Caspian. Unbelievable!
“Pledge? What pledge?”
“You're my mate. You're a member of our pack, as you have been for the last three years,” explains Constantine, unfolding his long legs from under the chair next to me to stand in the middle of the room.
“This has been our tradition for generations, this is our way,” adds Lazarus, standing up next to him.
“We did ours when we're very young, we would like it to continue,” continues Caspian, taking his place next to Lazarus.
“Each of us here had to go through it, now it's your turn,” says Serena, taking my hand in hers. She leads me to Constantine and places my hand in his.
“This is just a formality of tradition, sweetheart. You're already my mate,” explains Constantine. “Would you agree to take a pledge as my mate, and do you agree to do this willingly?”
“Yes,” I answer unequivocally.
“Then follow my lead and repeat after me,” he says.
Lazarus picks up an old copper goblet with carvings of a crown guarded by a lycan and a wolf, surrounded by strange symbols. There is something that looks like a little piece of cloth inside the goblet. He drops in a lighted match and sets the cloth on fire. Then he hands Constantine a very old looking dagger that has carvings of strange symbols along the blade. The handle is embedded with a brilliant red ruby surrounded by gleaming emeralds.
“This blood symbolizes our lives, our vows, and my bond to you and yours to me,” Constantine clarifies, cutting a small line in the middle of his palm with the blade without taking his eyes off mine. A few drops spilled into the goblet and suddenly the flame burns bright. It pops and fizzles, then goes down again.
“I swear my life to you, my mate. Our souls are one. You are privy to my feelings and senses, the keeper of my secrets. I pledge you my protection, my honor, and my companionship. My loyalty shall be yours. My strength shall quell your weakness, my courage shall absolve your fear. This is my pledge to you,” he vows looking deep into my eyes, right into my very soul. I feel my breath caught and my heartbeat picks up.
He hands me the dagger. It's heavier than I thought. I wrap my fingers around it and make a little cut in the middle of my palm. I tilt my hand so that a drop falls into the goblet. As soon as my blood drops in, the fire glows brilliantly before it crackles and pops and goes down again.
The cut on my hand is already healing.
Constantine recites the pledge again so that I can repeat after him. I recite the vow without taking my eyes off him.
After I finished reciting the pledge, he nods solemnly and pulls me into a quick and deep kiss. Then he releases me and hands the dagger to Lazarus.
“Do you agree to be a member of this pack and do you agree to take this oath willingly?” asks Lazarus.
“Yes, I do,” I answer him.
He slashes his palm the way Constantine did then recites, “I swear my allegiance to you, as a member of my pack. Our souls are linked. You are privy to my feelings and senses, the keeper of my secrets. I pledge you my protection, in my honor. My loyalty shall be yours. My strength shall quell your weakness, my courage shall absolve your fear. This is my pledge to you.”
I repeat the pledge after him. Then he leans in and kisses my cheek.
This, I repeat with Caspian, then finally with Serena.
I didn't realize that I have tears running down my face until Serena wipes my wet cheeks with her fingertips. Her own cheeks are also wet with tears. She laughs softly and pulls me into her arms. I feel the men wrap their arms around the both of us as well.
When I recited those oaths, I meant every word. Now I truly feel like I belong with these lycans. I am one of them.