Page 3 of The Witch's Rite
I’ve been to many Beltane festivals in my life and have seen countless May Queens lead the dances around the bonfire and be pursued by the Horned God. I admit, it would be an honor to play such a role.
“Will you be my Horned God, then?” I ask Alden, tipping my head back to regard him.
There his laugh is again. “I don’t know about that. I agreed to a Maypole dance, but otherwise you’ll find me at the mead table.”
Twisting my lips into a pout, I take his bulky arm in both of mine and cuddle up beside him as we walk. “Then who would chase me around the fire?”
“Another lucky man, I suppose.” He presses a kiss to the top of my head, and we walk the rest of the way to Faunwood in the peaceful summer air.
As with the Ostara festival, Faunwood has been transformed. Flowers decorate the tiny buildings lining the cobblestone streets, and brightly colored ribbons hang from the boughs of the trees growing all around the village. There’s a feeling of hope in the air, of energy and light and prosperity. I tip my head back and breathe it all in, let the power of the sun wash over me.
“Look there,” Alden says, lifting a hand to point.
I follow his finger with my gaze and gasp.
“The Maypole!”
Hand still wrapped around his arm, I drag him along—or at least attempt to—and he obliges me with a good-natured chuckle.
The Maypole has been erected in the town square. It stands tall and proud, casting a shadow down over the cobblestones. Flowers ring the top, and bright ribbons hang from it, billowing in the breeze, waiting for the dance to begin. The very sight of it fills me with joy and excitement.
“Alden, Aurora,” says a gentle voice from behind us, and we both turn to find two of the village elders standing there.
“Liora.” Alden nods his head. “Bram.”
“Happy Beltane,” Liora says. She’s wearing a lightweight red cotton dress, and her arm is ringed in flower crowns. “For you, Aurora.”
Removing a yellow flower crown from her arm, she gestures for me to step forward. I do so, and when I lower my head before her, she slips the crown gently over my hair.
“Beautiful,” she says.
“Thank you.” Reaching up, I run my fingers over the silky petals. When Liora smiles, the wrinkles around her eyes crinkle merrily.
“The Maypole dance will begin soon,” Bram says, hands clasped behind his back. “Will you be joining us?”
“Yes!” I nearly squeal. The elders and Alden laugh. “We both will. Right?” My gaze goes to Alden, and he gives a single nod.
Bram lifts his bushy gray brows. “I’m surprised, Mr. Stonewood. It’s been many years since you partook.”
“Believe me,” Alden says, running a hand over his beard, “no one is as surprised as I am.”
“It’s wonderful to see, dear.” Liora reaches up to place a weathered hand on Alden’s cheek. “You deserve to be happy.”
She pats his cheek, and beneath her hand, his face goes a very subtle shade of red, though it’s hard to see through his warm-brown skin. I keep my giggle to myself.
With smiles and parting words, the elders drift off to hand out more flower crowns. When they’ve gone, I turn to Alden.
“So, do I make you happy?” I ask.
He takes me by the hand and twirls me in a circle, making my green skirt flare around my legs. Then he pulls me in for a kiss that tastes of honey and mint and whispers into my ear, “What do you think?”
Chapter 3
Alden
THE LAST TIME I PARTICIPATED in the Maypole dance was the year before Belinda left me. After that, I had no interest in dancing around a fertility pole or celebrating the summer season. I was alone, and that was how I intended to stay.
But now I find myself with ribbon in hand, Aurora on one side of me and Lydia on the other, both wearing flower crowns and grinning up at me like they’re conspiring. James stands to Lydia’s left, and he gives me a matching grin, revealing the slight gap between his front teeth. I’m not sure how Lydia found someone so easygoing and lighthearted, but I’m happy for her; he’s good for her. They’re to be married in a handfasting ceremony today, and that means I won’t have to listen to any more wedding conversations between Lydia and Aurora. They’ve been discussing the ceremony nonstop, to the point where I started making myself scarce around the cottage just to avoid being asked my opinion on cord colors and vow wording.
