Page 6 of The Witch's Rite
How could I forget the handfast? I’ve been looking forward to it since James proposed to Lydia back in April, and much of our time over the last month has been dedicated to preparations. I feel foolish for allowing the wine to run away with my head.
“It was nice to meet you,” Alden says as he starts to guide me away.
Rowan slides his hands back into his trouser pockets and gives Alden a nod. “Likewise.” Then his gaze shifts to me. “Aurora.”
Hearing my name on his lips makes me giggle, but I quickly rein it in. “Bye, Rowan.”
Then Alden is leading me away, slipping the mug of wine from my hands.
“This must be good stuff,” he says, voice playful and light. “You should’ve shared.” He finishes the wine and strawberries off in one swallow, arm still around my shoulders. “Now, let’s go watch my sister get hitched.”
Chapter 5
Aurora
THE CEREMONY IS PERFECT, JUST like we planned. Lydia and James stand beneath an arch of branches overflowing with summer flowers, and as they whisper their vows to each other, Faunwood’s oracle, Niamh, binds their hands with three cords.
Lydia is draped in a loose-fitting white cotton dress, and she’s still wearing the white flower crown over her curly dark hair.
James gazes at her like she’s all he can see, like the rest of us don’t even exist.
“May your love be as enduring as the stars,” Niamh says after tying the first knot, “as deep as the ocean”—she ties the second—“and as boundless as the sky.” With the knots tied, she holds up her hands, silver bracelets gleaming against her dark skin. “May these binds symbolize both your strength and your softness. May you find joy in each other’s presence, comfort in each other’s embrace, and wisdom in each other’s counsel.” She smiles warmly at Lydia, then at James. “Congratulations.”
They turn and lift their bound hands, and everyone gathered for the ceremony claps. Beside me, Alden stands tall and strong,sturdy enough to withstand a winter storm, but I don’t miss the glassiness in his dark eyes. One tear slips down his cheek, and I lift a hand to wipe it gently away. He catches my hand in his and holds it to his cheek, then presses a kiss to my palm.
As Niamh ends the ceremony, villagers surge forward, surrounding Lydia and James, wrapping them in warm embraces and well-wishes. Alden and I linger at the back of the crowd; there’s no rush, and we’ll have plenty of time to celebrate the union later. I even baked those lemon cookies Lydia enjoys so much.
“How do you feel?” Alden asks, a playful tilt to his mouth as he smiles down at me.
The bubbly sensation from the strawberry wine hasn’t quite worn off, but now that Rowan’s nowhere to be seen, I feel like my feet are once more rooted to the ground.
“Perfect,” I say, easing into Alden’s arms and pressing my body against his. “I’m so glad it didn’t rain. Lydia was worried about that.”
“Thank you for helping her.”
“Of course.” I pull back slightly to look up at him. “She feels like a sister to me...”
My cheeks heat up a bit at the implication.
Alden leans down, hands rising to cradle my face, and his lips taste like mead and strawberry wine when he touches them to mine. The kiss makes my head spin. It makes me hungry for him.
I let my tongue brush along Alden’s lower lip. Heat curls low in my belly. But before I can grab Alden’s hand and drag him into the woods to finish what we started this morning, someone clears their throat.
I break away from the kiss to find Liora standing there, hands clasped before her, a little smile on her weathered mouth. Her long silver hair is pulled back in a single braid, and she has aflower tucked behind her ear. The flower crowns she had looped around her arm earlier are gone, dispersed amongst the women in the village.
“A beautiful ceremony,” she says.
Alden nods once in agreement, and beside him, I almost giggle. Guess the wine is still twirling through my veins.
Liora’s pale eyes find mine, and her smile grows. “Aurora Silvermoon, niece of Lilith Silvermoon, we have a request of you.”
Her words make me freeze, and my heart leaps. Could it be...?
“Will you, my dear, do us the honor of being our May Queen?”
Excitement bubbles inside me, and I can’t stop a grin from spreading across my lips.
“Me?” I whisper. I’ve watched many Maypole dances and bonfire celebrations, have dreamed of one day leading the Great Rite, but I never thought it would actually happen to me. “Are you sure?”
