Chapter 13

The day of the rite had finally arrived. There were fifteen girls, who were to be initiated into marrying age, and Pagan was one of them. Betha stood next to her, as they walked together toward the sacred temple for the ceremony. She held Pagan’s hand to reassure her that this was all going to be all right. It was a comfort to have her dear friend go through this with her, if Betha hadn’t been there by her side; she doubted she would have been able to take a single step without shaking. She kept reminding herself that she wasn’t the only one going through this today. There were fourteen others, and all were now making their way to the temple to be ushered into womanhood.

Pagan glanced around at her surroundings. It was hard to see clearly since all of the girls wore red silk gowns and red veils over their heads. She chose to wear her mother’s veil to give her an extra shot of courage. Her mother had to make this same walk many years ago. If she could do it then, then Pagan felt she should be able to do it also. There was no choice for her. Zeus had given His decree that she do so, and she gave Apollo her word she would do this. And for another reason to do this, she needed to participate in this if she wanted to be with Tristan.

She scanned the men that had lined up along the route for Tristan. He was nowhere to be found. Where was he? He had told her that he would be here for her. She leaned closer to Betha, hoping to get an explanation for his absence.

“Betha, where is Tristan?” She asked.

“With the other members of the council, waiting at home. That way we can’t guess who the chosen one is by seeing who is out here and who is not.”

Well, that made sense, she thought. The chosen one’s identity was to be a secret and only the members of the council knew who he was. The men of the local villages showered each girl with rose petals, as they walked in the procession. No other women were in sight, just the fifteen virgins and the men who were worshiping them. It was a solemn moment for Pagan, as she realized the true meaning of the event. Tristan was right. Aradian men worshipped their women as the beautiful souls they were. Without them no children would be born and no future for their land they all loved so much. It was the idea of what was to take place she had an issue with.

As they reached the steps of the temple, Pagan closed her eyes and asked for a little more courage from the only female deity she knew.

Artemis, please, be with me now.

I am here, Pagan. You are not alone. This is a special day for you and one I know is also difficult for you. I will walk with you to the altar.

Thank you, Artemis.

Pagan was relieved to hear that, but she wondered where the goddess was? She couldn’t see Her. She only heard Her voice in her mind. Suddenly, Pagan felt a warm caress upon her shoulder, and she knew by the tenderness of the touch that it was Artemis.

The candidates lined up outside the temple under a portico and were given cushioned pillows to sit upon as they waited. Pagan was second in line after Betha, and she realized the women of the ruling houses were to be first followed by the daughters of generals and so on. She sighed and flopped down on her cushion. Even in this, rank and position in society was given prevalence above others. Somethings never seemed to change, she thought.

How is she handling all of this?

As well as can be expected. Apollo, is he there? Artemis asked.

Yes, he is. Apollo stood next to his sister. He leaned down and softly caressed Pagan’s cheek. She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. He remained invisible to her, as did Artemis. It is good of you to be here for her. I know how much you dislike this practice.

Well, if it were up to me, I’d do away with it all together. This was Eros’ doing.

At least Aphrodite turned it into a worship of women instead of a celebration of a man’s vitality, Apollo said.

Did someone speak my name? Aphrodite shimmered in the doorway. She counted the girls sitting on the pillows. Fifteen? There really is a shortage of women here. We need more babies, preferably female babies.

A priestess dressed in black came out of the temple doors and motioned for Betha to stand. Betha squeezed Pagan’s hand in reassurance, as she rose to enter the temple.

“This is it,” she said, smiling at Pagan before she went inside.

She would be next, and Pagan took a deep breath, as she waited for Betha to exit the temple. She fidgeted with her red silk gown and tapped her finger lightly against the tassel of her cushion, flipping it back and forth. She wondered how long the whole experience was going to take. There were no words to speak and there was no speech by the man either. Betha had told her that when they went over the book of rules. It was to be a quiet and solemn experience.

A few minutes later Betha appeared and removed her veil from her head. She winked at Pagan before she walked proudly toward the ritual area where the women awaited her with open arms.

Well, that didn’t take long, she thought. Maybe it would be quick and the whole thing would be over in a blink of an eye, a quickie so to speak. Oh great, that was all she needed, her very first time to have a man inside her and it be compared to a quickie, a wham, bam, thank you ma’am encounter. Well, maybe that was for the best, she thought.

Pagan rose to her feet when the priestess motioned for her to stand, and she walked to the entrance. This was it. She was about to lose her virginity to an unknown masked man. She said a short prayer and she again felt the touch of Artemis’ hand upon her shoulder. She took the few steps to the door and slowly raised her foot to take a step inside. In her mind if Betha could do this, so could she.

She entered and looked around the room at the elegant paintings that adored the walls. None of it was sexual in nature, but the images in the portraits were of naked people and all were looking toward the altar with a sincere admiration painted on their face.

The altar. It was the marble table that was to be the place where the rite was to be performed. She slowly walked to stand beside it. She held her breath and hopped upon it, released her breath, and then took another look around. She was alone. The priestess that had brought her in was nowhere in sight. She began swinging her legs for a few moments before she lay back on the cold marble, awaiting the masked man to enter. She wasn’t sure where he was going to come from, not that she was in a hurry to have this done, but she kind of wanted it to be over.

From her left she saw him through the thin veil she wore over her head. He was tall and very masculine, his muscles well defined. There was a familiarity about his nakedness she could not quite place. It was as if she had seen this man naked before. He was that familiar to her. His face was completely covered by the mask he wore adorned with peacock feathers. His entire head was covered except for the slits for his eyes and mouth. Even his hair wasn’t visible.

He stood before her like a Greek god. He was the essence of a warrior and a lover combined into one and he was close by, sporting a rather large erection. He placed a thin covering over his manhood to serve as protection. In her mind it was a condom, but transparent to the point it looked like it wasn’t even there. He approached the altar and hesitated a moment before he climbed upon the altar and straddled her. He raised her red gown up to uncover her breasts. He took his hands and spread her legs and settled himself between them. Once again this felt familiar to her. Who was he? Why did it feel like she knew this man?

She felt the tip of his erection touch the opening between her folds. Slowly he entered her, taking care to only place his tip inside. She tightened at the intrusion, and she unexpectedly opened her mind to him. He was sensual and so masculine. This was the feeling she had felt before when she had lain with her healer. He was in her soul, as he was then, and she knew who this was.

He pushed a little deeper and held steady. She wanted more. She was aroused more than she thought she could ever be. She needed him, and he pushed a little further until he filled her, stretched her. His full length was inside her. He flexed under the tension their union had created and the action sent a shiver through her body. He gave her his full weight and lay still on top her. She called his name to his mind. Tristan.

Yes, my princess, it is I. I told you that I would be the only man to make love to you, to be inside you, and I kept my word to you.

He slowly withdrew and she grasped at him to pull him back. She didn’t want him to leave her.

Another time, my sweet. I promise, another time.

She felt empty, as he left her, and she wanted him to return to fill her again. He only smiled and got down from the altar. He grabbed her red silk gown and lowered it to cover her quivering body. He stood close and lifted her veil to reveal her lips. He bent his head and claimed her lips with a sensual kiss, and then he spoke to her mind.

Tell no one of this.

He backed away and retreated to the alcove he came from and disappeared from her sight.

Pagan scooted off the altar and placed her palm over her heart. She was overwhelmed at what had just happened. He had told her to have faith in him and that he had found a way to be the only man to ever be with her in an intimate way. He kept his word.

Pagan walked to the door of the temple and took one step outside. She looked straight ahead and descended the steps with one thought on her mind. She was a woman now, made so by the man who had asked her to marry him, the man, who loved her, and the man she loved with all her heart.

She removed her veil and smiled, as she walked the path to the ritual area to greet the other women. Today was a new beginning for her and she felt alive and vibrant.

***

Tristan stood at the edge of the ritual circle that had been prepared for the evening activities. The sun was setting, and the people were gathering for the chase. Excitement filled the air as small groups started to form and talked among themselves. A short distance away Pagan chatted with Betha. The two women were separate from the others that had gathered for the festivities, and they seemed to be having a pleasant discussion. Pagan had a strong glow illuminating from her heart. There were streaks of red mixed with pink swirling around her, an obvious aura of love and passion. She loved him and wanted him; he could see it and more importantly he felt it. She wasn’t capable of hiding her feelings from him anymore. They had grown too close and shared life forces on several occasions. They were one in so many ways. He was grateful for that.

She was the woman for him, there was no denying that, but he wanted her to come to him willingly, not out of a need for protection or a decree from Zeus. He offered her marriage, and she knew it was because of the decree that had been given to the ruler, but he also wanted her to be his wife because he loved her, and he hoped she finally realized that.

She could very well take care of herself. She had lived alone in a harsh environment on Earth on the run from a madman, who wanted to possess her and her abilities. She called them gifts because what she was able to do no other was capable of. She was unique in a world that punished such uniqueness and because of it she closed off her heart to anyone to protect herself from getting hurt.

He didn’t blame her for not expressing her feelings, but deep inside he needed her to. He knew she told him she loved him because she was afraid for him and wasn’t going to see him again till he returned from the south. He was glad to hear the words cross her lips, and ever since that day, she let her love flow to him through her empathic ability. But she hadn’t said the words to him since that day. He wanted to hear her say those words to him again.

Pagan brushed her hair away from her face and looked his way. She smiled with a blush gracing her beautiful face and she lowered her eyes. The sight of her filled him with a desire to take her right then and finish what he had started in the temple. The scene rushed back into his mind, and he closed his eyes to revel in it. There she was cloaked in red from head to toe, waiting for him. He climbed upon her and straddled her, undressed her, and devoured her nakedness with his eyes. He forced restraint to overtake him, for he knew he was quite large and she so small.

Ah, but the feeling of her tightness squeezing his enlarged shaft was more than he had anticipated. He knew the moment he popped her maidenhead, and the barrier was lifted for him to press further, and further he did. The rite called for him to enter and break the delicate skin and withdraw, but he couldn’t. He was in a position to claim her as his and he filled her with his full length. He dared not move for fear he would lose his senses and bring her to heighten pleasure. No, he wanted to reserve that experience for his bed, not a cold marble altar.

“Tristan, are you participating in the chase tonight?” Brailey intruded on his thoughts.

“That depends on her,” he gestured at Pagan.

“She still hasn’t given you an answer, has she?”

“Much to my dismay, no, she hasn’t.”

“Well, brother, you know she really doesn’t have a choice in the matter. The Maker handed down His decree for her protection within our house and it will be carried through with or without her willingness.”

“I know. I just want to give her a chance to come to me willingly.”

Brailey had a sly look on his face. “Maybe the idea of wedding you is what is stopping her. It is quite possible it is me she fancies and not you.”

Tristan laughed and nudged his brother’s arm. “Only in your dreams, brother, only in your dreams.”

The men turned to see Betha pulling Pagan in their direction. She trailed behind, trying her best to keep up with her friend.

“Are you excited? I am so excited! My first chase!” Betha bounced gleefully.

“Yes, Betha, I can see. You are blooming with excitement. But hear my words, little one, choose your partner wisely.” Tristan hugged his sister.

“Oh, how sweet, an outpouring of emotion and coming from the big strong Tristan, no less.” Betha hugged him tightly. “I must go find mother. See you later, Pagan?”

“Yes, I’ll catch up with you in a bit,” Pagan replied.

“I’d better be off, too. I must make sure I look my best, for I know I will have a scarf around my neck by the most beautiful maiden here, so I better start flirting to make sure it happens.” Brailey headed toward a group of ladies talking on the other side of the circle.

Pagan looked up at Tristan then down to the ground.

“Tell me, princess, are you participating in tonight’s event?” He asked.

“The chase? No.”

“You prefer to watch others make love? That sounds like fun.”

“What! No!”

“That saddens my heart to hear you say that. Here it is I thought you were a fun gal to hang around.” He started laughing.

“Get serious and stop laughing at me.” She placed her hands on her hips.

“I’m sorry. It’s just the look on your face when I suggested watching was one of sheer horror,” Tristan continued to laugh. “Okay, seriously now. If you don’t, I won’t,” he said with a straight look on his face.

She searched his eyes. “Really?”

“Yes, truly. I am your husband and if you choose not to participate then I respect your wishes and I will stay here and not have fun with you.”

“You said husband. You are not my husband. I don’t recall exchanging vows.”

“Husband, betrothed, there is no difference.”

“There is a big difference. Besides, I never agreed to your proposal.”

“Ouch, stung me right in the heart.” He mocked a faint.

“And furthermore, you don’t need my permission to go frolic in the woods with anyone.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t own you and you don’t own me.”

“Wait a minute, let me get this straight. You are saying you don’t care if I take a maiden into the woods and make love to her? You, the queen of jealousy, the woman who wanted to rip my heart out with her bare hands over a servant bathing me?”

“NO! I don’t!” And don’t call me that!” She realized she spoke a little too loudly. “Anyway, after what you did today, I don’t see how you would have the strength to make love to anyone.”

He spoke to her mind. Pagan, what are you talking about?

You know darn well what I am talking about, fifteen women in a matter of a couple of hours. I’m surprised your manhood hasn’t fallen off.

Pagan, you have no idea what you are talking about.

Oh, don’t I? I was there, remember?

How could I forget, you were a vision of loveliness.

She blushed when she saw the look of desire that filled his eyes. She didn’t know why, but she suddenly was embarrassed at the way she had wanted him, and now that she was legally allowed to be with him, the idea scared her a little. He was the chosen one and he did have his manhood in all the women there. At the time that thought hadn’t crossed her mind, but now that he was standing right next to her, her little green jealous monster had to remind her.

How could you, your own sister, no less? You should be ashamed of yourself! She shot back at him to hide her true feelings from him.

Tristan grabbed her by her shoulders and turned her to face him. I TOOK ONLY ONE MAIDENHEAD TODAY!

His words vibrated throughout her body. They hit her with such force that she knew he was telling her the truth. “But how, I…don’t understand…why?” Was all she was able to say.

He still held her tightly. “Let’s just say I owe a certain member of the 3rd Ruling House a favor and leave it at that.”

Pagan understood his meaning. He had asked the chosen one to switch places for her. He wanted to be the one to claim her virginity, and she recalled the day he left for the south. She had found him in her grandfather’s study, having a private conversation with Adam.

Then, it hit her. Adam was to be the chosen one this year and Tristan had asked Adam to allow him to be the chosen one for her.

“You did that for me, why?”

Tristan loosened his grip and slid his hands to hers and he held them with tenderness.

“I knew you felt uneasy about the rite, and you have said it’s not a custom practiced on Earth. You were hoping to save yourself for your husband and your virginity was a virtue you cherished. I didn’t want you to sacrifice your values in order to fit into our society. I am to be your husband, and by your values, the only man you wanted to lay with.”

A tear dropped from her eye. He wiped it away with his finger and then placed his hand under her chin, raising her face up to his.

“I would do anything for you. Don’t you know that by now?”

“Forgive me, Tristan. I never should have accused you the way I did.”

Tristan leaned in to kiss her. It was a soft tender kiss.

“Pagan, I want you to know that I will never take my place as the chosen one again. I want you to understand my devotion to you. I know our ways are different from your own, and I respect that, but more importantly, I respect you and I will live by your values because I love you.”

He hovered over her lips for a moment, and then brushed his over hers lightly. She parted her lips, and she deepened the kiss, not he. He graced her mouth with his tongue, and she returned the intimacy. He pulled her closer to him and his hips pressed against her in his urgent need to be inside her again.

She wanted him as much as he wanted her. Her kiss told him so. She raised her hands and entwined her fingers in his hair. He grunted before he released her. The emotions that were emanating from her were of happiness, gratefulness, and of love. He let them ride over him in a wave of unspoken truth. He just needed to hear her say the words to him one more time, to stop holding back and come to him openly and trust him enough to say she loved him. After everything they had been through he felt it was time she verbally spoke her true feelings for him.

“Pagan, come on, it’s almost time for the chase to begin and we haven’t even braided your hair yet!” Betha said with glee.

Pagan looked at Betha and stepped out of Tristan’s embrace. “It seems my presence is needed elsewhere.”

“Will you be in the circle tonight, Pagan?” He asked.

“Tristan, I’ll consider it, and thank you for what you did for me today. It meant a lot to me,” she said as she walked away from him. She turned her head to take one last look at him, and he had a hint of a smile on his face. He truly did love her. His feelings for her were emanating from him freely. He always let his feelings flow freely toward her. He never hid them from her. He was open and honest about how he felt, and he had been for as long as she could remember. He was a good man, she thought, and she was grateful he was the one Zeus had chosen for her.

Pagan entered the tent designated for the women. Ladies from ages twenty to sixty were braiding each other’s hair and weaving strings of pearls and flowers between the folds and knots. Everyone looked happy and beamed a glow of anticipation. Lady Patrice had given her a string of rare blue pearls as a gift for her rite of passage and was graciously weaving and pinning them in her braids. Her grandmother gave her a necklace that had belonged to her mother. It was the gift Pagan treasured most.

“So, Pagan, do you think it will take you long to catch Tristan with your scarf?” Asked Betha.

Pagan caressed the red silk fabric she held in her hands. “I haven’t decided yet if I’m going to participate.”

“Oh, you must! If you don’t catch him, someone else will!”

“Who?” She glanced around the room. “Why would they, they all know he proposed to me?” Her green jealous monster started to peek through.

“Have you given him an answer?” Betha asked.

“No, not yet. Does that matter?”

“No answer means he is still available, at least according to the rumors,” Betha said.

“What rumors?” She asked.

“Delia, who else,” Betha whispered as she pointed across the tent. “And she still wants Tristan. Her maid told my maid that Delia plans to trap him this year. She wants to lure him deep in the woods and seduce him into making love to her without a covering.”

Pagan’s mouth opened in shock at Betha’s words. That woman was still after Tristan. Why? She thought Tristan had made it perfectly clear to Delia he had no interest in her, yet the woman was still scheming to get her hands on him.

“I told her there was no way my brother would lay with any woman without a covering. She hopes to conceive, and he’ll marry her because of the babe,” she continued. “And she also claims that Tristan was the chosen one for her rite of passage last year and that he didn’t use a covering then because she was the only candidate. It was really strange; she was the only woman turning twenty last year. The year she was born Aradia had a male explosion and she never lets us forget it.”

Pagan couldn’t believe her ears. Betha was gossiping like the women in her small Mexican village had done. She rubbed her temples against the headache that was starting to pound in her head. Tristan, the chosen one, could it be true? Had he performed the duty before and if so, how many times? How many women have seen and touched his body, and this whole chase thing, how many women here wanted her man? The thought surprised her. She actually thought of Tristan as hers. It was only a split second, but the thought was there.

He had asked her to marry him, not Delia. Yes, it was because Draken told him to, but he also loved her. He had told her on many occasions, and she felt it every time he was near her. He sent waves of love and passion to her without even trying to. He kept the images in his mind blocked to her, but never his emotions. And the thought of him making love to another woman filled her with jealousy, and he knew it, too. She had lost everyone she had ever loved. She didn’t want to lose Tristan, too, especially to Delia.

Well, that wasn’t going to happen, not during a festival rite filled with sexual practices. If Delia thought she could steal Tristan from her, she had another thing coming.

Tristan watched with eager eyes, as the women left the tent and walked into the circle. He scanned the faces, searching for Pagan. He didn’t see her. She must have decided not to come. He looked again to make sure, and Delia waved to him and swayed her hips seductively. He knew if he couldn’t find Pagan there was going to be trouble. He was going to have to find a way to disappear so that no unexpected scarf found his neck. He decided if Pagan wasn’t participating, he wasn’t either.

The women gathered in a circle in the flower roped ritual area and the drums began, as the bel fires were lit. As they dispersed, the men entered the area and started dodging scarves immediately. It looked like it was going to be playful this year; the chase had begun before the dancing even started.

Oh well, he thought, it was time to leave before he found Delia chasing him with her scarf. That woman had caused him enough trouble over the past few months, and he wasn’t about to get in a situation where she would try to get to him again. He wanted Pagan and no other. They were free to be intimate now and he gave her his word he would not make love to any woman except her. She gave him her virginity and he planned on honoring her values as far as sex and marriage were concerned.

Tristan took a few steps back to get out of the ritual area and tried to weave his way through the crowd that was watching the festivities. He could hear the laughter and cheers coming from within the roped area where the chase was taking place. It wouldn’t be long before the women chose their partners for the night, and all would make their way into the woods to enjoy a pleasurable joining for the couples. He thought about going to Pagan’s home to see if she was there and maybe they could spend a quiet evening together, or a late dinner, he thought. If she didn’t want to be a part of the chase, maybe she would be willing to just sit and talk with him. He hoped so.

“Just where do you think you’re going?” His mother spoke in a firm voice.

“I’ve decided to sit this one out,” he said.

“And let some other man take your bride to be in the woods?” She pointed to the circle.

Tristan turned to see Pagan standing at the edge of the circle and she was looking straight at him with her arm stretched out toward him and her red scarf held tightly in her hand. She was offering herself to him. She had chosen to be with him. He walked toward the flower roped circle and stepped over the rope that designated the ritual area for the chase to stand before her.

She wasted no time in displaying her ritual dance. She swayed her hips and waved her arms in the air, swirling her scarf like a ribbon of ecstasy, enticing him to come closer. In the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of another scarf waving close by. It was Delia and she danced within an arm’s length away from him. Delia swung her scarf in his direction, and he ducked out of the way. Suddenly, there was another flash of red. He dodged it instinctively. He found himself surrounded by a sea of red.

Pagan swirled in front of him and braced her back against his body. She rubbed her hands down his thighs, and he leaned over her. Delia moved closer to his side and took a step toward him. Pagan needed to wrap her scarf around him soon before Delia snared both of them, he thought.

Pagan raised her arms above her head and turned swiftly to face him. Her scarf had caught his neck in a move that happened so fast he blinked.

She turned her head to Delia and said, “He’s mine, so back off, bitch!”

She pulled the scarf tight and brought his head down to hers. She kissed him with all the passion she could muster up. Delia walked away in defeat, but soon took chase to Brailey, who was egging her on.

“Did you just call her a bitch?” He smiled at the thought.

“Yes, I did.”

“You’re in a feisty mood tonight, princess.” He pulled her scarf from her hands. “You claimed me, now it’s my turn to claim you.” He twirled the long red fabric in a tight twist, as he walked a circle around her.

“Tristan, what are you doing?”

He was behind her, and he snapped her bottom with the red silk.

“Run, our little chase has begun,” he said with a sly smile.

Pagan knew his meaning right away. He flooded her mind with images of the two of them locked in a lover’s embrace. Her breasts swelled, as a tingling sensation gripped her nipples when he placed an image of him teasing them with his tongue.

She blushed and spoke to his mind. I know exactly what you want to do to me, and, if you catch me, I will surrender, but only if you catch me.

Her words were bold, and she could hardly believe she said them. She wanted him to touch her breasts the way he’d shown her. She wanted that and more. He already had taken her virginity, now she was free to explore her sexuality according to Aradian rules, and she was half Aradian. Tristan was full-blooded Aradian. God, help her, she wanted to belong to him.

Pagan darted to her left then to her right with Tristan keeping up with her every move. Then with a sudden twist, she ran in the opposite direction to weave her way through the crowd that was playing the same game. She spotted Betha running to the woods and Pagan followed her. She was in a maze of trees surrounded by bushes and people dodging each other. The air was thick with laughter and the sounds of moans escaped the lips of couples hidden in the darkness.

The scene was exotic and the anticipation of being caught was intoxicating. Her heart beat fast, and her breath came short as she hoped she would elude him and dared to dream that he would catch her. She stopped to catch her breath and she sensed he was near. But which direction was he? He couldn’t be that far behind her?

Pagan gasped, as two hands caught her from behind. She twisted and lunged forward to wriggle out of his embrace. She heard his laughter, and it was music to her ears. She fell forward, as he released her, and she crawled under a low bush to escape. She wanted to be caught, but not yet, the chase was too exhilarating. She wanted it to last a little longer.

She heard his voice in her mind.

I’m going to get you, princess. I know where you are.

Without warning, he snatched her up and to her dismay her hiding place wasn’t so hidden. She had been crouched out in the open. Tristan picked her up and threw her over his shoulder and was headed deeper into the woods.

“Gotcha.”

The sounds of laughter and love making faded into the distance with each step he took.

“Where are you taking me?” She asked.

“You’ll find out when we get there.”

Tristan took a few more steps then plopped her on the ground. To her amazement she landed on a blanket that had several cushions carefully placed around it. He raised her hand to his mouth and kissed it softly. He knelt before her. The moon showed its full light through the trees and gave his raven hair a sheen that was almost blue black in color. She reached down and caressed the crown of his head, and he leaned forward, kissing her belly through her silk green gown. She tilted her head back and a low moan of pleasure escaped her lips as she dared to revel in this sensual atmosphere he had created for them.

Pagan moistened her lips with her tongue and said his name in a whisper, “Tristan.”

He rose at that moment and pulled her into his hips, placing his hand in the small of her back so that she instinctively arched, giving him access to her exposed chest. He licked her delicate skin down to the collar of her gown, and she placed her hands on each side of his head, raising it to hers. She gave him a kiss, opening her mouth fully to allow his tongue to explore the depths of the passionate sensation he stirred deep within her.

He stopped for a moment, allowing her to catch her breath from the heated kiss he had just given her. She touched the bottom of his tunic and pulled it over his head. His hair hung loose over his shoulders, and heat surged between her legs, as she watched his chest rise and fall with each breath he took. She reached out and splayed her hand upon his chest, closing her eyes, as she experienced a wave of emotion overwhelm her. She wavered in her stance, and he caught her in his arms. He helped her down to the blanket and she gently placed her head on a cushion. He sat next to her, pulled off his boots then removed her shoes from her feet. He rose to stand and gave her a smile, as he unlaced his breeches and stripped them from his body.

There he was, standing before her naked as she waited for him to take her like he had done earlier in the temple. Only this time he wore no mask, and he was going to cover her body with his, and she embrace him as she pleased his desire as well as her own. This is what she wanted, to be with him in an intimate way in reality like they had been in the realm of dreams.

Pagan released the clasps of her gown and pushed it away from her shoulders, letting the silk fall to her to her side. She reached out to him, and he took her hand, enlacing his fingers between hers. He knelt beside her and leaned over and kissed her lips tenderly. He hovered over her, as he straddled her, his thighs pressed against her sides and his erection lying upon her belly.

He held her hands on the ground and stared into her eyes, as the moonlight created a silhouette of his body against the darkness. He bent his head and kissed her neck and his hair brushed against her cheek as he kissed his way up to her forehead then created a trail of kisses back down her face to lay siege upon her lips. He spread her legs apart with his and he moved to settle between her limbs. He lowered his lips and kissed the swell of her breast, making his way around the lightly colored skin that encircled her nipple.

She felt the pink nub stiffen when he grazed over it with his tongue. It was a sensitive spot on her body and each pass of his tongue sent ripples of pleasure down her spine. She arched upward, pushing her breast closer to his wandering mouth. He parted his lips and took in her swollen nub, sucking it with a vigor that caused her to let out a sigh laced with ecstasy.

She ran her fingers through his hair, holding him in place, not wanting him to stop. He released the pointed nipple and the breeze of the night air brushed across her skin wetted by his kiss. He lingered over her breast and massaged it entirely with his palm. He tugged gently upon the pink pearl and kissed his way to the other one. He licked the nipple until it, too, swelled to a peak due to his lips. He placed his mouth over it and began to suck on it while he continued to squeeze her other nub with his fingers.

Her lungs began to spasm, and she gasped for air as an intense spiral of tingling climbed up her spine and sprawled over her chest. Heat gathered around her heart, and she arched against the feeling that was manifesting in bright lights above his head. He lifted his head to look at her, as if he knew what he had done to her. Her empathic ability gave her away, as she pushed the sensation of the stimulation he aroused in her into his body, and she knew he felt every pulse she was experiencing by the slight shutter that racked through him. They were experiencing each other in a psychic way as they were now sexually connected to each other.

The lights still swirled above him and turned red in hue. This was his passion he felt for her, and it was coming to life before her eyes. Tristan grazed his way down from her breast to her belly and stopped at the tip of her soft curls. He nuzzled his nose between the strands and took in her scent. He went even farther down and pressed his hands on her inner thighs. He pushed against them, and she opened her legs wider to allow him passage.

She expected to feel his manhood enter her, but instead he dipped one finger into her wetness. He moved it in and out with such ease that she began to move her hips with his rhythm. He added another finger and wiggled them inside to stretch her opening. She twitched at the sensation. He lowered his head and kissed her there, maneuvering his tongue till he found what he was looking for. He lay siege to her small pearl nestled between her folds, licking it and drawing it into his mouth with enough pressure to stimulate her entirely. This was a new sensation for her.

Pagan tossed her head back and forth, as the sensation built up inside. It escalated and pressed upward, threatening to explode at any given moment. He placed his hands around her hips and lifted her against his mouth, as he deepened the pressure upon her pearl, and she cried out in pleasure. It kept coming to her, the feeling of needing to release the power that had built up inside. She grasped the blanket with outstretched hands and clutched tightly, tugging on it as each wave of passion swept over her. It was too much for her to bear any longer. She had to let go before it consumed her. She let out a scream followed by a sigh, as she reached sweet salvation. She shivered and the energy he had raised in her released into the air and mixed with the red light that hovered above his head.

Tristan lifted up and crawled over her, placing the weight of his body upon hers. She felt the pulse running through his erection, as it lay crushed between them, and he moved his hips and rubbed his powerful swollen length against her skin. She released the hold on the blanket and placed her hands on his buttocks, kneading with her fingers, and pressing him harder against her. His movements intensified and he let out a guttural sound, as a warm liquid covered her belly. He let the tension leave his body, and found her mouth, giving her a sensual kiss that expressed how he felt for her.

Tristan reached for the end of the blanket to inch it closer to them. He grabbed the end and pulled it as best as he could to cover them. He rolled into it while still holding her in his embrace, blanketing them in warmth. In silence they held each other, and they gave into the laziness that overcame their bodies. She drifted off to sleep in the arms of her man, the man who had asked her to marry him, the man she loved dearly with all her heart.

“Sleep tight, princess,” he whispered before he too drifted off to sleep.

Tristan opened his eyes to the twinkling stars that graced the night sky. Pagan lay sleeping with her head tucked into the curve of his neck with her braids half undone. The distant sound of a flute played a familiar tune to signal to the lovers in the woods that it was time to retreat and head for home. He kissed her forehead and then her closed eyes.

“Pagan, it’s time to go home.”

She moaned.

“Princess, wake up. We need to bathe and prepare for the maypole.”

“More festivities? I don’t think I can handle much more. Can’t we stay here and sleep a little longer?” She said in a groggy tone.

“No, we can’t.”

“Oh, all right.”

Tristan rolled over and the blanket fell exposing her naked body. She shivered and searched around for her green gown. Tristan sat up and propped his hand upon his knee and watched her fidget with her gown. She fastened the clasps at each shoulder and stood up, stretching toward the sky.

She looked down at him and said, “I decided to accept your marriage proposal.”

She hopped on one foot, trying to put her shoes on.

He gave her a crooked smile. “Oh, have you now?”

“Yes, I have,” she cleared her throat.

She took a few steps toward the forest before his words stopped her.

“Your grandfather’s house is that way.” He pointed in the opposite direction than she was headed.

She turned, straightened her gown, and strolled in the direction he had indicated with her head held high.

Tristan laughed, “It’s about time.”

***

The sun had risen and the sounds of people bustling about the manor were joyous and filled with pleasant laughter. It seemed everyone had been enjoying the festivities so far and they were preparing for the brunch that gave way to a maypole dance. The thought occurred to Pagan that Aradians loved to dance, and their festivals were laced with sensual undertones, at least the ones she’d seen so far. What’s up with that? She asked herself.

She hadn’t seen Tristan since she left him in the woods a few short hours ago. She had done something she thought she would never do. She gave into her sexual desires and lay with a man before she was married.

Pagan dipped a washcloth into the steaming bath water and squeezed it over her shoulders. Her life had changed so much in the past few months; it felt more like a dream than reality. She never thought she would ever feel safe and relaxed enough to enjoy life, and she never dreamed she would be engaged to a man such as Tristan.

She had spent most of her life in fear of losing the people she loved that she refused to believe she would marry or even allow herself to fall in love. Her heart had been filled with too much sorrow and pain that she numbed her senses to the emotion of love to keep from having her heart broken, as it was destined to be. First Draken left her behind, then Abuelo Manuel and Marco died, and of course Father Juan.

A tear developed at the thought of her Mexican family, and she wiped it away, forcing herself to think of things that now made her happy. Tristan was involved in everything she had done here in some form or fashion. He helped her find the elusive emotion of happiness and had shown his respect for her by honoring her values toward her virginity. He was chosen to be her husband and was by law her betrothed, whether or not she accepted his offer of marriage. He wanted to be the one to take her maidenhead so that she could keep her self-respect instilled in her by Esmeralda and be secure in the knowledge that her husband had been the only man to take her. Of course, his compromise wasn’t exactly what the Catholic Church or Esmeralda had in mind, but it was the closest he could get to it based on Aradian ideals of marriage.

Now that she had agreed to the marriage, she was sure the wedding was soon to follow. She placed her hand on her belly where Tristan had spent himself upon her. The memory made her flush with heat and a longing to be with him filled her heart. She wondered why he finished their love making that way instead of inside her? He had satisfied her fully with his tongue, but she still wanted to feel him fill her like he had done in the temple. He had used a covering then, but on their wedding night he would not, and she could quite possibly conceive.

A baby. Was it possible that she could have a baby? She never dared to dream she could one day be a mother. Her life in Mexico was too hostile to ever bring a baby into. But here in Aradia she was with people who cared for her and were willing to protect her and not the other way around. A baby. No. Not now. She and Tristan needed time to adjust to marriage. Well, that wasn’t quite true. It was she who needed to adjust to a life here in Aradia and learn to live with a man like Tristan. She rubbed her belly again. If it happened, she would accept it and she knew someday she would be pregnant. But in the meantime, she wanted to enjoy her life and her newfound fondness for sexual pleasure with Tristan.

“Did I hear my name?” Tristan came through the door.

“Don’t you ever knock?”

Tristan turned around, went to the door, and knocked. “There, is that better?”

“Much. What are you doing here? And no, I did not speak your name.”

“I came to escort you to the Mayday brunch, and I could’ve sworn I heard you calling me.”

“I was thinking about you, perhaps I may have thought a little too loudly,” she admitted.

“Ah, judging by the color flushing your cheeks I can assume you were thinking about last night.”

She had been thinking about what they had done together in the woods and how she wanted to do it again. She lowered her eyes in embarrassment.

“How long have you been sitting in this tub?” He placed his hand in the water and swished it around. “The water feels tepid.”

“Not very long.”

“Well, it’s time to get out.” He grabbed the towel. “I also have something to tell you. We are to be wed tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow!” She shouted as she stood up in the tub.

Tristan came to the side of the wooden structure and stretched the towel between his hands and placed it around her. She tucked it under her arms, and he lifted her out of the tub and brought her to stand next to the fireplace.

“Yes, in the morning just after sunrise.” He walked over to her mother’s wardrobe and opened it. He rummaged through the gowns there before he pulled a pale yellow gown out and admired it and then placed it on the bed.

“Why so soon?” She asked.

“Weddings always take place around sunrise and Draken believes it’s necessary for your safety.”

“How is marrying you tomorrow going to guarantee my safety?” She asked.

“I will not explain this to you now because I know you are not going to like it and I prefer to have a blissful Mayday and a memorable wedding day. Besides, there is another reason I want to marry you in the morning.”

“And what might that be?” She walked toward him still dripping from her bath.

“I want to spill my seed inside you, not on you. And I will not lay between your legs again till we are married, so the sooner we say our vows, the better.”

Pagan stood there speechless. He wanted to wait till she was his wife before he had sex with her again. But why wait? What difference would one more day make? Then another thought entered her mind. He was doing this for her. Betha had told her that a man had every right to bed his betrothed before the wedding because she was his as far as the law was concerned. The only reason he was waiting was for her sake and her ideals about marriage. He truly loved her and wanted to make her happy. By the heavens she loved this man.

“Tristan, I…” she wanted to say it, but couldn’t.

“You what?” He spoke to her mind. Say it, Pagan. Tell me. I need to hear you say it.

Elizabeth walked in and took Pagan by her arm to lead her back to the fire.

“You’re going to catch a chill like that. You need to get dressed,” her grandmother said.

Tristan smiled at the women and turned to leave. Before he left the room he pointed to the yellow gown. “Wear that. It will blend well with your hair.”

He walked out not hearing the words she so desperately wanted to say.

Pagan dried herself off and Elizabeth brought the gown to her. She stepped into it and pulled it up over her hips before placing her arms through sheer tight sleeves. Her grandmother helped her button the bodice and took a step back to admire her.

“Tristan was right. You look exquisite in that gown.”

Pagan caressed the soft fabric and turned to look into the dressing mirror. She saw her image and thought she looked like a princess in a fairy tale.

“Grandmother, where did this dress come from?”

“Tristan had it made especially for you. The seamstress delivered it yesterday. It is lovely, isn’t it?” She stood behind her and placed her hands on Pagan’s shoulders. “He loves you; you know. And I believe you love him, too. Have you told him how you feel?”

Pagan shook her head. “Not since he left for the south. I want to tell him, but the words…I can’t say the words.”

“Listen to me, dear. I have known Tristan all his life and I have never before felt the intense love he emanates when you are with him. He radiates it with such passion it almost takes my breath away, and I’m not the woman he is in love with. You and I are empaths, and we have a tendency to show what we are feeling before we speak it because it comes natural to us to do so. But men like Tristan need to feel your love, and most importantly, hear you speak your love. Tell him you love him, Pagan. Don’t keep him waiting any longer.”

Pagan walked down the stairs to find Tristan waiting for her. He reached for her hand, as she took the last step. She looked at him and noticed that he was wearing a loose yellow tunic made out of the same material as her gown. His breeches were as black as his hair and were neatly tucked into his knee-high boots. She suddenly felt like a princess, and he was her prince.

They waited for her grandparents to join them and the four of them made their way to the ritual arena of the previous night. There were three large maypoles erected in the center with an array of colored ribbons attached. The roped ritual circle was now lined with tables forming another circle around its perimeter. Each table was covered with plates of fruits and cheeses as well as sweets. It was enough food to feed the entire village for a week by the looks of the sheer amount of the display. The wine flowed freely, as the celebrants found their seats. Tristan sat next to her in a chair built for two.

She didn’t know what to expect. She assumed they were to eat, but as far as any rite or activity, she had no idea what was going to happen. All she could do was wait to see how the morning was to progress.

A woman dressed in a velvet black cloak entered the main circle. She raised her glass in the air, as if to toast the entire crowd. Everyone picked up their glass and held it out the same way.

“Let the feast begin,” she said then left the circle.

The cloaked woman went around the seated people and placed a flowered garland around each pair in the benches made for two. She placed the circlet of flowers around Pagan and Tristan, and he stretched his hands over the table. The woman picked up Pagan’s hands and positioned them next to his. She then tied them together. Pagan looked around and noticed every couple was tied the same way. She looked to her right and saw Draken seated with Cassandra and they, too, were bound with ribbons.

A confused expression crossed Pagan’s brow, as the woman gestured for the flute player to begin. The finely dressed man started to play a cheerful tune and danced around the tables. As he passed each table, the seated couple began to feed each other as best as they could with their hands tied. Laughter and smiles were abound, as they tried to grab their food with their fingers and place it in the mouths of their partner.

The flute player reached their table and fluttered by. It was now their turn.

“Tristan, I don’t see how we are to do this. What’s the purpose of this, anyway?” She asked.

“To teach us how to cooperate with each other and trust the ones we have chosen to be with,” he said with an apple piece between his fingers. “You feed me, and I feed you.”

She opened her mouth, and he placed the apple inside. She tried to grab a piece for him the same time he reached for a piece of cheese in the other direction. She began to see the humor in their situation and the playfulness in his moves. He was reaching for things that he knew were placed far from her so that she would have to lean into him in order for him to retrieve it. Many times her breasts brushed against his arm as he stretched for things strategically placed to cause such closeness. Each time he had done so, he sneaked a glance down her gown and stole a kiss from her lips. She rather enjoyed this playful meal, and she didn’t want it to end. She was having too much fun.

The meal lasted for nearly an hour. Small voices became audible, as the village children were led into the circle, each one placed around a maypole and handed a ribbon. The cloaked woman clapped her hands three times, and the children began to weave their way around and in between each other while dancing to a tune of delightful music. It was a joyous scene, and a smile came to her lips. Tristan explained the night was for the adults and the day for the children since they were too young to participate in the chase.

When they were finished, the children gathered around the outskirts of the circle and picked up baskets filled with flower petals. The adults rose from their tables and entered the circle, still tied to each other. Music began again and they danced in a waltz around the circle, as the children weaved among them, throwing flowers in the air.

It was a magical feeling that Pagan wanted to hold on to forever. Tristan twirled with her in a carefree manner and all her reservations about her feelings for him melted away. This wasn’t some fantasy or fairytale. This was reality, her life, a world that she belonged to and was a living part of. Love and happiness truly were able to exist for her and Tristan was the love of her life.

“I do love you, Tristan, I hope you know that.” She let the words flow easily across her lips.

“I know you do, princess, and I love you.” He bent his head and kissed her tenderly. They stood still in the center near the maypole and the rest of the couples waltzed around them. They didn’t care. They were in a world of their own as they held each other in a loving embrace. She felt at home here with Tristan and she never wanted to be without him.