Morrigan's Cross (Circle Trilogy 1) - Page 148
“No.” He tucked her hand into his arm. “You’re steady as a rock.”
And when she stepped into the room filled with candles and flowers, when she saw Hoyt standing in front of the low, gold flames of the fire, she felt steady.
They crossed the room to each other. “I’ve waited for you,” Hoyt whispered.
“And I for you.”
She took his hand, scanned the room. It was, as was traditional, madly decked with flowers. The circle had been formed, and the candles lighted, but for the ones they would light during the ritual. The willow wand lay on the table that served as altar.
“I made this for you.” He showed her a thick ring of silver, deeply etched.
“One mind,” she said, and drew the one she’d made him from her thumb.
They joined hands, walked to the altar. Touched fingers to the candles to light them. After slipping their rings onto the willow wand, they turned to face the others.
“We ask you to be our witnesses at this sacred rite,” Hoyt began.
“To be our family as we become one.”
“May this place be consecrated for the gods. We are gathered here in a ritual of love.”
“Beings of the Air be with us here, and with your clever fingers tie closely the bonds between us.” Glenna looked into his eyes as she spoke the words.
“Beings of the Fire be with us here…”
And they continued through Water, through Earth, the blessed goddess and laughing god. Her face was luminous as they spoke, as they lit incense, then a red candle. They sipped wine, scattered salt.
She and Hoyt held the wand with the rings gleaming on it between them.
The light grew warmer, brighter as they spoke to each other, the rings under their hands sparkling wildly.
“It is my wish to become one with this man.” She slipped the ring from the wand and onto his finger.
“It is my wish to become one with this woman.” He mirrored her gesture.
They took the cord from the altar, draped it over their joined hands.
“And so the binding is made,” they said together. “Then, as the goddess and the god and the old ones—”
A scream from outside shattered the moment like a rock through glass.
Blair leaped to a window, yanked back the drape. Even her nerves jolted at the vampire’s face only inches away behind the glass. But it wasn’t that which turned her blood cold; it was what she saw beyond it.
She looked over her shoulders at the others, and said: “Oh, shit.”
There were at least fifty, probably more, still in the forest or hidden nearby. Three cages sat on the grass, their occupants bloodied and shackled—and sc
reaming now as they were dragged out.
Glenna shoved her way by to see, then groped behind her for Hoyt’s hand. “The blonde one. That’s the one who came to the door. When King—”
“Lora,” Cian said. “One of Lilith’s favorites. I had an…incident with her once.” He laughed when Lora hoisted a white flag. “And if you believe that, I’ve all manner of bridges you can buy.”
“They have people out there,” Moira added. “Injured people.”
“Weapons,” Blair began.
“Best wait—and see how best to use them.” Cian stepped away, and walked to the front door. Wind and rain sliced in when he opened it. “Lora,” he called out, almost conversationally. “Why you’re good and soaked, aren’t you now? I’d ask you and your friends in, but I still have my sanity and my standards.”
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