The men believed the selection process was not random and that the females knew before they appeared who each would select. Rowan suspected it was the magic property of the wine that heightened his anticipation. He reminded himself he wouldn’t be selected, he was on assignment, but his core began to heat, nonetheless.
His mind was reason, his body primeval memories. Memories raced to the beginning times when Bealtaine and its success meant the difference between survival of the race or extinction. His frustration grew. The Fertility Festival had come full circle. It still meant the survival or extinction of his kind.
He’d thought he was immune to the festival’s allure, but something had changed and that bothered him. He was aroused and couldn’t deny the strong pull of Bealtaine. The power and magic were unmistakable. But this felt different from the times he’d attended in the past. There was something personal he couldn’t explain, as though he’d received his own engraved invitation. The ceremony was drenched in Wizard lore and history. He tried to block out the hypnotic music and concentrate on duty. He was here to find out if the Wizard killer had infiltrated the festival.
A voice in his head whispered. “It can wait.”
He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand, and although the voice was gone, the memory of the words remained.
The music invaded his thoughts again. He pushed the sound away and focused on his dual life to keep him distracted from the festival’s seduction. By choice, he walked in two worlds. The first was as a soldier for the Talons and Grey Council, the second as an off-the-book undercover detective for Detective Lyons and the Seattle police department. He lived in Belltown and owned a vintage motorcycle he was restoring. Most days he enjoyed the work. Especially when he brought the bad guys to justice. But it wasn’t always that simple. There were gray areas. Like the time a woman killed her long-time abuser. He hadn’t brought her in and made an excuse that the murderer had escaped.
The music grew louder.
Drums rolled and thundered through him, drowning out his thoughts, reminding him that he was a Fire Wizard. In this time and in this place that was the only reality that mattered.
His blood simmered as the first woman walked through the arbor. The tempo of the music increased, and his pulse rate kept time. More drums were added, pounding in his ears, vibrating through him. The women descended the stairs in wave after wave of glorious color and surrounded by shimmering halos of light. He swallowed hard.
Each woman was dressed in sheer silk and gauze, ranging in shades from forest green, crimson, amethyst, and sapphire to silver or gold. He’d heard the shade didn’t necessarily reflect the color of the gown but could be the female Wizard’s dominant aura or a reflection of the spells in her glamour.
The gossamer fabric of their gowns pulled across full breasts and caressed long legs. Sweat beaded on his forehead and tendrils of smoke rose from the ground beneath his boots. He cursed under his breath. “Damn.”
If he set the grass on fire, he’d be kicked out of the festival, and the desire to stay blocked out everything else. The phrase “banned for life” popped into his head. He fought for control, and while he succeeded in keeping his fire powers at bay, his blood rolled to a boil.
The men grew restless. One young man broke rank and ran toward the closest female Wizard. Guards intercepted him before he reached his goal and dragged him away. Because of his enthusiasm he would be sent packing. Female Wizards demanded self-control, and this was one time the men listened. Two hundred years ago the Talons and Grey Council had defied the rules of Bealtaine and insisted apprentice male Wizards be allowed to participate, confident and arrogant their will would prevail. Male Wizards gathered for the festival. Female Wizards did not.
The Grey Council tried threats, then gifts, then literally got down on their knees and begged. In response, the female Wizards sent a tsunami to swamp the island. Negotiations ended that afternoon and the festival was cancelled. The female Wizards had sent a powerful message. The following year, only qualified male Wizards were in attendance.
With the eager young man whisked out of sight, the procession continued as though nothing had happened. Women srolled around the group of men in a wide circle as though there was no time constraint. Their movements were seductive; their glances filled with promise. Rowan was more certain than ever that he wouldn’t be selected.
His disappointment rocked him to the core and caught him off guard. What was happening to him? Why, after all this time, did he still care about such things?
“Because you’re male and breathing,” he hissed under his breath.
A chestnut-haired woman, dressed in flame-red silk, turned from the line and, with slow and deliberate steps, walked in Stryker’s direction. The drums ceased. Tension rose around the gardens. Fire Wizards were not known for restraint in any form. If she rejected Stryker, or worse, if he turned away from her…
It had happened before. The woman had killed herself in front of everyone. It had been a black day.
The crowd held its breath.
The female Wizard’s focus was only on Stryker, her intention clear, yet also giving him the opportunity to look away. That would signal that he had rejected her. While a female Wizard did the choosing, a male Wizard could refuse. Sex was consensual.
Stryker showed no signs of turning away. He was focused on her as though she was the only person in his world that mattered. Stryker moved toward her. When she was within his grasp he hesitated, his body looked like it was coiled and waiting. The woman had to make the first move. Her smile spread, touching her eyes. She rested her hands on Stryker’s shoulders, rose on tiptoes and kissed him, lightly at first, then deeper.
His brother responded as though his existence depended on her embrace, as though her touch was his salvation. He picked her up in his arms and headed for one of the tents located on the perimeter of the garden. Stryker was the first to be selected.
A roar of excitement erupted from the men. The drums renewed their beat, more urgent than before. With the first selection the festival officially began. Rowan clenched his hands at his side, praying for continued control. The emptiness within him, which he fought so hard to contain, grew darker, more intense, a physical pain only a woman’s touch could heal. Each male Wizard fought the darkening, a consequence of living outside the healing caress of a woman’s love for long stretches of time.
Another female Wizard, drenched in shades of a summer sky blue, brushed past him. Her beauty shone more radiant than a full moon and a hundred times more seductive. His breath quickened. He caught a glimmer of spun silver overlying the blue and could not pull away from her hypnotic allure. She shone more brilliantly than all the others. He could see only her. All colors faded away except for hers.
He was drawn to her and couldn’t look away. Didn’t want to look away. And then she turned toward him, her smile filled with enchantment and promise. He held his breath, waiting, hoping.
She moved toward him. The gentle sway of her hips was a promise. She paused, gazing up at him, laughter and desire blending in her eyes. Her tongue moistened the corners of her mouth. She sighed.
He clenched his hands tighter at his sides. The impulse to take her in his arms and kiss her roared through him like a wild forest fire. She had to be the one to make the first move. So intense was his longing for her, he knew that if she rejected him now, he would never be the same.
She placed the palm of her hand over his heart. The contact was like a jolt of electric current. Her eyes held his. The music floated away and the couples around him blurred. Only the woman who stood before him was clear, solid, intoxicating.
“I choose you.” She’d spoken, but he hadn’t seen her lips move. The statement was in his thoughts. That was fine with him. More than fine. He wanted her. Wanted her more than anything or anyone he’d ever wanted before in his life. He paused. It was more than want. It was need.
