The further through the marriage ceremony we ventured, the closer it took us to the afternoon festivities Jessica had played a large part in organising, and the nearer we grew to what I realised I truly wanted: the binding of our hearts.
Only the slipping of the band over my finger, as Sean spoke his declaration, broke the entrancement I had lost myself in.
“… this ring I thee wed. Wear it as a symbol of our love and commitment.”
No one uttered a word as I repeated the wholly human process, although both of us knew the rings would become no more than a prop. After all, jewellery was not a practical accessory for a race whose form changed so often.
After letting everyone know exactly what kind of life he expected us to lead, the rector allowed his first smile of the service. “I now pronounce you husband and wife.” He swept a hand toward me as though he showcased an impressive piece of art. “You may seal the promises you have made with a kiss.”
“Finally,” Sean said, low enough only I would hear, and he slid a hand around my waist and tugged my body to his. Although rather than lift the veil from my face, he ducked beneath it, and his arms enfolded me, drawing me up against his chest until my feet left the floor. “Thank you so much,” he said to the rector, before crushing his lips to mine and marching away.
“Sean!”
If he heard Mother’s harsh whisper, he refused to respond, merely kept going.
“Mr and Mrs Holloway,” the rector called.
Deep chuckles echoed off the high ceiling, and I knew them to have come from the pack.
“Mr and Mrs Holloway. You must sign the register before you leave.”
Sean halted a few feet from the exit and emitted a long sigh. “So close. So close to escaping and having you all to myself.”
I bit down on my laughter, as he lowered me to my feet and swung us back around, yet no amount of veil could have disguised the heat in my cheeks.
* * *
At some point that morning, the pack had arranged tables in the garden of the property where the other half of us lived. All twelve attendees had taken seats, to gorge ourselves on the feast awaiting us. Apparently, Sean had approached a housekeeper at one of the affluent properties in the area, and the offered monetary incentive had been enough for them to embark on the covert mission.
More than once throughout the meal, however, I caught the surreptitious stares of our human guests, as though the appetite of the pack bemused them somewhat. And what should have been an awkward and stumbling afternoon turned out to be anything but. I imagined Giles and his easy demeanour played a large role in that, with the stream of humorous tales he shared.
With the passing of hours came the onset of evening and the waning of light. Charles and Edward staked the ground with torches, and the blaze from the fires illuminated the lawn, as well as offered warmth the approach of night often stole. The consideration was all for the humans, however. The pack did not need the heat, nor did we need the assistance to see—especially not with the full moon peeking over the forest on its ascent.
As usual, just a glance at it sent a shudder through my body.
Sean’s arms tightened around my waist. “I thought your mother said the moon tonight would be blue?”
Only the tiniest threads of grey marbled the globe we studied. “It does not actually turn a different shade.”
“Ah.” His lips brushed the flesh alongside the shoulder of my dress. “So … why is this one so special, then?”
“Because it is the second full moon of the month.”
At the high keen of a bow across strings, Sean turned, his arms taking me along with him. “Please tell me I do not really have to dance before these people.”
“You do not really have to dance before these people.”
His sigh fluttered my hair. “Thank goodness.”
“Of course …” I smiled. “Mother may beg to differ and force you to do otherwise.”
He groaned. “Your mother shall be the death of me.”
“She can hardly be blamed for testing the one to whom she intends to hand over her daughter for eternity.”
Another sigh. “I would rather she test me in battle than dance.”
With only a further few minutes allowed to ourselves, we stood facing one another amidst the circle created by our guests.
“Human traditions are humiliating,” Sean muttered beneath his breath.
“Only to non-humans.” Grasping my skirt, I allowed him a small curtsey before extending my hand. “Shall we?”
As Brenton created the first note of the dance, Sean gave a smile of which any predator would have been proud.
My eyes narrowed at the glint in his eyes, and I opened my mouth to question, but before words could leave me, my feet flew from the ground, and Sean spun me so fast all breath escaped me.
Round and round. I whirled until no forms held solidity. Only a pattern of muted hues whizzed by.
Beyond the rapid whistling from the flute at Brenton’s brother’s lips, and the manic playing of fiddle, clapping to the beat of our movements merged with the amusement of our observers.
I scarcely noticed any of them, not with Sean’s strong grasp of my hand and waist hauling me along with his buoyant steps across the lawn. Like two children spinning until dizzy, our laughter united, unhindered and uncertified, almost as loud as the music.
As the tune died away, Sean’s lips pressed to mine, his fingers weaving into my hair, already mussed from his antics, as he planted my feet back on the grass.
Once my mind had ceased to whirl, I smiled up at him. “I thought you said you could not dance.”
“Trust me, Jem,” Jessica said, “that was by no means dancing.”
Chuckling, Sean grabbed me once more, and the twirling recommenced—although, thank goodness, at a much calmer pace— to a cheer of encouragement from Giles and Philip.
With a twirl to the left, I saw Josie being hauled to dance by Charles, whilst to the right, Philip and Lottie took to the grass.
Bodies spun at high speed with danger of collision, and none other than Sean and I seemed to notice, when Mother and Jessica mingled into the shadows of the surrounding forest.
Each leap, each bound resulted in Sean becoming more and more bedraggled. He had disposed of his cravat and waistcoat at the earliest opportunity, along with my veil, and the clutch of my fingers tested the limits of his shirt fastenings until the laces hung free and bounced with the fun.
My hair had shaken loose and clung to the first lines of sweat at my brow, yet I could not have cared less—not when Sean grasped my hips and lifted me high again.
One turn, two, a third, and he ceased to swirl us. My chest heaved as I peered down at him. I reached out, took his face in my hands. Our eyes locked as he slid me down his body and our lips met.
“Mrs Holloway,” he murmured before kissing me.
Breath evaded me beneath the hunger of his mouth, and my fingers entangled within his cropped hair, if only as a means to keep myself upright. Lost in his embrace, the moments that passed could have been hours, as the flash of bodies spiralled around us, the dull stomp of feet claimed the job of providing the beat, and the flute and fiddle built to an insanely high crescendo. My mind spun in an epic flurry by the time Sean’s assault lessened, and his tongue ceased to tease, leaving me even more breathless than I already had been.
His head tilted to the side, his eyes seeming to focus on something beyond me, confirmed when he gave a small nod. “Your mother seeks you.”
None paid us attention, as we left and began a slow walk to where Mother waited beneath the low branch of an oak.
Sean paused a few feet away as I stepped into Mother’s arms, and she embraced me before turning to him. “Are you certain you still wish for this?”
“Yes, Isabelle.” His deep, velvety voice could not have sounded surer.
“Then, it is time,” she said.
“Will our guests miss us?”
Sean shook his head
. “Not for a while. Although, I somewhat doubt they will be expecting us to return, even once they do.”
Everything I loved about the forest beckoned me forth as we wove our way through. From the medley of meats, to the patchouli-like scent of the earth, to the freshness of air. Even the way the breeze swayed the timber limbs and provided a natural music that more than competed with the tunes we had left behind.
My nostrils flared, capturing the unmistakable richness of fox, as I lifted my face to the leafy canopy. The instant my gaze connected with the lunar glow, a shimmer rippled beneath my flesh.
Cancelling the full moon hunt had been a lot to ask of the pack—yet not one of them had complained. Although, I supposed, there would always be later, once the guests had departed. I only hoped they would stay true to their word and allow us the privacy we had been promised, for a hunt with Sean and I alone would be the ideal ending to an already perfect day.
No sooner had the thought entered my head than a second wave of ripples washed through me, and I closed my eyes as I revelled in the sensation. As I reopened them, the smile I received from Sean, and the tremor that thrummed through him, told me how similar a route his own mind had trod.
The farther Mother led us into the forest, the quieter the sounds of celebration became, until we finally reached a clearing where Jessica stooped low to the ground, placing candles to form a generous circle.
She didn’t glance up, and I peered away again, filtering through the powerful essence of her ritual tools to the dimness beyond our spotlighted position, where branches fluttered, and bushes twitched, only to be drawn back by the sizzle of burning wax.
One by one, the candles became aflame at Jessica’s hand, each giving off smoke redolent of bergamot and vetiver. The wafts spiralled up and outward to connect with those of the wax torches on either side, creating a barrier to the rest of the forest.
Once she had sparked the last one to life, Jessica pushed to stand. “Mother, ‘tis ready.”
With a nod in Jessica’s direction, Mother took my arm and Sean’s, tugging us both until we faced one another. My fingers itched to reach for the patch of chest his dishevelled shirt exposed as our eyes connected.
“Jessica, did you remember the wreaths?” Mother asked, seemingly oblivious to the intensity with which Sean and I regarded each other.
Jessica stepped into my periphery, the braids in her hands hanging from her fingers—one pale, one dark. I removed my gaze from Sean for a moment as she handed me my wreath, Sean his, the perfume of them an echo of the surrounding fire-fuelled fog. With all that had happened since, the time spent plaiting the strands seemed like centuries ago.
Standing to my right, Mother turned toward Sean and me. “Are you still certain you wish to proceed?” she asked, as Jessica took up position opposite her.
“Yes.”
I smiled at our unified reply.
“So be it.”
At Mother’s nod, Sean raised his braided necklace over my head, sweeping my own hair through it until the wreath settled against my nape. A glance down showed it nestled against my cleavage before I pushed up onto tiptoe to offer mine in exchange. He dipped his head, although his gaze remained on me as he accepted the gift. The length of it draped as low as his navel before I doubled the loop in half, and it found home upon his chest.
Another shimmer affected my flesh as excitement shuddered through me, and I followed the motion, glancing up in time to spot the same performance in Sean.
His smile shone white in the moonlight, and remained even as Mother turned his palms up and sliced the flesh with her athame. After repeating the action on my hands, she joined my right hand with that of Sean’s before entwining our arms to connect our left palms—the requisite infusion of blood created within.
Shifting back slightly, she nodded to Jessica, and they began their incantation.
“Hecate, hear our call …. A meeting of two hearts must come to pass.”
The smoke around us thickened, obscuring us, whilst only the feminine oration and crackle of burning wicks made sound.
“Let no one, and no thing stand in the way of the meeting of these two hearts,” Mother and Jessica continued. “These two hearts beat as one. One cannot exist without the other. If one should return to this earth, the other must follow. It is the will of the earth that it be done.”
Mother paused, her gaze passing between Sean and me. “You must both repeat these words.”
Still focused on one another, we nodded.
“Fate and destiny go hand in hand,” Mother prompted.
“Fate and destiny go hand in hand,” we echoed.
“It is impossible to change our destiny. Only the path upon which we walk to reach our destination alters.” Mother paused until we spoke the same words. “If we should stray from that path, fate will take control and guide us in the right direction.”
“… fate will take control and guide us in the right direction,” Sean and I uttered before falling silent for the final plea to be made.
“Bound together by bite, and also by marriage,” Mother said, “we now call upon the presence of the blue moon and the powers of the earth in consummating this binding—a binding for eternity.”
Her words drew to an end, and she glanced around as though seeking confirmation of its success, and as though in response, a warm wind blew through the clearing.
My hair fluttered. The hem of my skirt swirled.
The open collars of Sean’s shirt billowed out.
Beside us, neither the hair nor clothing of Mother and Jessica appeared affected, and around us, not one of the flames diffused.
The gust died to a breeze, and only when it had vanished completely did Mother speak again. “It is done.” When we didn’t move, she took our shoulders, her smile warm as she urged us apart. “I believe you have consummation of your own kind to do.”
I stared down at my palms, the cuts there already healing, and lifted my gaze to Sean.
The questions in his eyes seemed to reflect my own.
Had it worked? What would happen now? Would we feel any different?
Should we feel different?
Did it truly matter when excitement coursed through my veins with an almost euphoric buzz?
Giving a small giggle and a raise of my eyebrow, I grabbed my skirt and raced away.
Footsteps pounded the earth at my rear as I rounded the trunk of a hazel.
“Sean!” Mother called behind me.
His pursuit halted, and I hesitated a moment. “Yes, Isabelle?” he asked.
“Promise me you will take good care of my daughter.”
“For eternity,” he said.
* * *
FOR MORE ON JEM & SEAN’S JOURNEY, Read on IN CALLED
About J.A. Belfield
J.A. Belfield lives in Solihull, England, with the best husband in the world, aka Mr B, a couple of back-chatting but pretty cool kids, a couple of pooches she treats likes the babies of the house, and a scrawny cat that like to vomit in unnecessary places.
Although best known for her HOLLOWAY PACK series and THE THERAPIST, she is currently trawling her way through a New Adult Post Apocalyptic and would LOVE to try her hand at YA. Maybe she will.
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Titles by J.A. Belfield
Holloway Pack
Called
Lured
Caged
Unnatural
Cornered
Erotic romance
The Therapist
Paranormal romance
Her Mane Escort
The Alpha Heist
Stealing the Alpha #1
Kate Rudolph
The alpha keeps what’s his…
No one steals from Luke Torres. His fortress is legend and his pack of lions are deadly, ready to face any threat. When Luke meets Mel, she knocks his socks off with
a scorching kiss, but when they meet again, they are captor and captive in a deadly gave of cat vs. cat.
The thief is up to the task…
From the moment Mel takes the assignment, she knows that it should be impossible. But for the supernatural world’s foremost thief, impossible is an irresistible challenge. Especially when the payment for this job will get her one step closer to revenge. When the jobs goes belly up, she finds herself in the lion’s den and facing off with the most alluring man she’s ever met.
The Alpha Heist
Also available in audio!
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The Alpha Heist © Kate Rudolph 2015.
All rights reserved. No part of this story may be used, reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the copyright holder, except in the case of brief quotations embodied within critical reviews and articles.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Published by Kate Rudolph.
www.katerudolph.net
Chapter 1
The job went tits up sometime after Mel grabbed the flash drive from the vault. And vault was a highly overrated term for that sorry excuse for an executive safe. This whole thing should have been much harder. From what she could tell, the company was run by a bunch of scientists without a thought in their heads for real security.
Shifters Gone Wild; Collection Page 132