The Ritual Shantel Tessier Pdf Novels & Stories

A reason to judge me. A reason to reject me. “I’ll do it,” I said. The look on Rex’s face told me he hadn’t expected that. A hint of concern flickered in his eyes, but when he realized I wasn’t joking, he squeezed my hand and stepped back. The High Priestess began the ritual by collecting drops of our blood, mixing them inside a small golden cup. The room fell into a heavy silence as she chanted those strange ancient words. Every eye in the hall was glued to that cup—even though they couldn’t see what was inside.

I winced in pain, it stung but there was nothing I could do about it, all I could hope for is whatever the witch was doing I swallowed hard, feeling my stomach churning. She placed the knife on the table with her other things. "It's time for the ritual." She called out and Shantel came out with such a bright smile on her face. "Finally, she gets to die." Shantel said happily. The witch began saying something weird, it felt like there was a spell. My body shook, I could feel the pain in my insides already, my heart beat painfully as if trying to break free from my ribcage, I struggled against the rope tying my body to the stone I laid on.

The dead can't offer assistance or guidance, and they'll never return, making this exercise feel useless. Bored to death, I pretended to connect. But even before my parents' deaths, these rituals held no fascination for me. It was more painful now because why cry over spilled milk? The chosen priestess and Zeke's best friend, Selena, exploded into a chant, bringing me back to the present. She carried the symbol of the goddess in her hands and looked like a toy with two piglets atop her head. Entering a trance, her eyes rolled up in her head, and her body swayed from side to side with the tempo and volume of her words.

It felt as if it had allowed us entry, like the moonstone was the key we were missing. When we were finished, though, all we could do was sit there in shell-shocked silence. The translated words sat in front of us on a crisp, clean sheet of paper, and their contents were… horrifying. And that was putting it lightly. “I can’t believe it,” I whispered, still staring down at the page. “All of that for… this?” Tyler drew in a ragged breath and picked up the translation, poring over it one last time. “A ritual for binding spirits to unborn children,” he said softly, letting out a low, disbelieving whistle under his breath. “That sounds…”

Then it happened all over again, layer after layer of my chapped skin was peeled off of my body. The temperature was ice cold in an instant, I was starting to gasp while trying hold in the pain. Shani was chanting louder and putting more stuff into the pot. She kept on pronouncing her words, she looked at me then to Florence from time to time. I knew that she was trying to finish the ritual, as fast as she could. I was in much deeper pain, as I kept on lowering down my body to hold the pain until eventually Shani put her last ingredient that was on the table and put it into the pot and finished her ritual.

*******************************>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> --- The ritual began. Cassian raised his arms, his shadow stretching tall against the cavern wall. The Seal of Binding glowed faintly beneath the Elders’ feet, the runes etched in the stone igniting like veins of molten fire. Seraphine poured her chalice of blood onto the altar; Nyra carved her wrist and let her own essence join it. Valerian drove his spine-crown against the stone, a sharp crack resounding like a whip. Maelis lifted the dagger high, its runes screaming with light.

He was her rock, her safe haven, and he would do whatever it took to help her through this difficult time. The priestess, adorned in her ceremonial robes, entered the sacred space with a gentle grace. Her presence was calm and soothing, and she moved with a quiet confidence that commanded respect. She beckoned to Ava and Treyton, leading them to the altar where the rituals would take place. As they stood before the altar, the priestess began to chant and sway, her movements hypnotic and rhythmic. The air was thick with the scent of incense and the flickering candles cast eerie shadows on the walls. The rituals began, a blur of movement and sound that seemed to transport Ava and Treyton to a

A low groan escaped him, unbidden. Her fingers slid down, tracing the shell of his ear, the sensitive column of his neck. Each point of contact was a brand of pure feeling. "You hold such tension, Cassian," she breathed, her voice now a warm murmur beside his ear. Her breath fanned his skin, another wave of heat. "Centuries of holding yourself apart. Let go. For the ritual. Surrender." He shuddered violently. Surrender.

A bridge I’m not sure I can be, not with Voren’s Syndicate circling closer. “Lena, you’re scowling at that tablet like it insulted your mother,” Cassia says, tossing the scroll aside. “Find anything useful, or are we still chasing First Ones’ riddles?” I push the crystalline tablet away, its glowing runes fading. “It’s all riddles. This one talks about a ‘Veil-anchor ritual’ to stabilize rifts, but it’s vague—something about channeling primal and cosmic energies through a conduit. Guess who the conduit is?” I tap my chest, sarcasm dripping. “No pressure, right?”

The ritual was said to strengthen bonds… or expose the ones already fracturing. Elara stood in the circle beside Lyra, their fingers linked through a shimmering chain of frost. Her white shift clung to her damp skin, the fabric now slightly stained from the constant leakage between her thighs. Kaelen’s thick, repeated loads from the Origin Flame Ceremony still filled her pussy — warm, creamy, and impossibly heavy. Every subtle movement made the mess squelch softly inside her swollen, well-fucked cunt, keeping her clit throbbing with shameful, relentless need.