He kissed her, then went into the cave and lit the fire. Once the wood had begun to burn, he set the irons in the fire. His face was solemn when he returned. He met her eyes, then began undressing.
The air was cool in the ravine—she couldn’t wait to get in the hot spring. She removed her boots, then the rest of her clothes, feeling the chilly breeze whisper about her. Kelan took her hand and led her into the steaming pool. It was shallow and hot. Big rocks, rounded from the water, lined the edges. Smaller ones were across the bottom. The pool was too hot for anything to grow. Minerals bubbled up from the sand and river gravel. The water had a pleasant scent—like heated dirt and rock.
Kelan picked up a handful of sand and rubbed it on her chest and arms. She did the same for him, then lifted his forearms and kissed the insides of both wrists. They didn’t talk; their silence was tense. She splashed the water over her arms and body, listening to the nearby stream and the sound of the birds in the little valley.
After a while, Kelan took her hands. He led her from the pool. The cool air seemed much colder now. He handed her a big bath sheet. She dried herself then watched him dress. He tied the heavy strap about his hips, then pulled on the leggings and tied them to it. The leather framed his sex in a pleasing way. She smiled at him, but he didn’t return it.
He tucked the leather scarf over the strap in back of him, then pulled it between his legs and tucked it in up front, leaving the decorative edge out. She realized what she’d thought was a scarf was really a breechclout. She’d never seen one on anyone before.
He didn’t put the tunic on. He needed to keep his arms clear for the ceremony. She looked from his bare feet to his face, struck by his beauty and fierceness. She’d seen him in operational gear, casual wear, tuxedoes, and now this—and this was by far her favorite attire for him.
“If my heart wasn’t already yours, it would be now.” She couldn’t do more than whisper. The smile he gave seemed sad. He must be feeling the same overwhelming emotions she was.
He picked up her dress. “Your turn.”
Fiona removed her towel, which she’d been using as a blanket, and tossed it over the side of the Jeep. He lifted the dress over her head. It felt like heaven. Light, but warm and soft. “This is beautiful.”
He took her hand and began leading her into the cave. “Wait!” She ran back to her purse and removed a piece of paper. “I wrote my vows down. I was afraid I would forget them in the heat of the moment.” She bared her bottom teeth in a worried frown. “Is that allowed?”
“Of course. I’ve memorized mine, but I’ve also written them down.”
“Good. I don’t want to forget anything about this ceremony.”
They went into the cave and sat beside the fire, facing each other. Kelan checked the irons. The tips were glowing red. “We’ll do your vows then mine.” In his beautiful Lakota language, he said something—a prayer, she supposed.
He looked at her. “I asked the spirits stand guard while we exchange our vows.” He rearranged the irons in the oven. “We’ll say them in this order: our bodies, our hearts, our minds, our spirits.”
Fiona felt a knot in her stomach. She wanted to race through the next few moments as much as she wanted to move slowly so she could remember all of it.
“Let’s begin.” Kelan removed the first of her irons from the fire, the one that represented her body. He held it above the base of his left wrist, then nodded at her.
Her hands shook as she lifted her paper over her folded legs. She glanced at him, then said, “Kelan Shiozski, I vow to ensure that our physical lives exist in a place of peace.”
That was a good vow. He nodded at her, then set the iron to his skin and counted one…two…three…four. The pain was intense. His skin sizzled beneath the hot metal. He set the iron beside the fire, then focused on his breathing, dissipating the pain as he repeated her vow silently to himself, forever connecting its meaning with its symbol on his skin.
He took up the second iron, then looked at her. Tears were running down her face. “Your heart vow, now.”
Her blue eyes caught his. “I vow to celebrate our similarities and differences with equal reverence.”
He pressed the second iron just to the left of the first, counting the slow seconds. He lifted the iron away and repeated her vow to himself.
The marks were small. Not quite an inch each. He smiled as he looked at red welts that were rising. They would fit nicely under the wrist cuffs he’d had made. He’d lived thirty-four years, and only now did he feel he was becoming a man.
“Your mind’s vow, now.”
Fiona bit her lip then slowly said, “I vow to give your needs and opinions equal consideration whenever I make a life decision.”
He nodded. Her vows were strong. He was proud of the mate she was becoming. The third iron went to the left of the second one. Again he took a deep breath, then repeated her intention.
“And now, your spirit’s vow to me.”
Her face was dangerously pale. She wept as she said, “I vow to participate in the lifelong transformation we’ll make from being two separate individuals to a couple with one footprint.”
Kelan placed the last brand on his left arm. He took a long breath then released it as he repeated her last vow. The shadows of the cave enhanced the reflection of the flames on her worried face. “You honor me well, Fiona.”
She sniffled and nodded. “Are you all right?”
He smiled at her. “I’m better than all right. I’m becoming whole.”
He set her irons to the side of the fire then removed the one representing his body. He looked at her. “I vow to provide the nourishment your body and your mind need to thrive.” He set the first brand on his right arm.
“Say my body’s vow back to me, Fiona. Look at the mark on my arm as you say it.”