Kat Bastion - Forged in Dreams and Magick

My heart stopped as Iain gave me a head-to-toe visual filled with admiration, love, and a healthy dose of lust. In two strides, he reached my side, pulled me into his arms, and kissed the breath right out of me.

“You’ve never looked more radiant, Isa.” He brushed the words into my ear on a whisper, sending goose bumps down my side with a punctuating growl.

Father John tsk-tsked us, pushing his arms between our shoulders, separating our faces.

Iain’s glare stopped the clergyman.

“Wait until I marry you, Iain. You’ve only a few minutes longer.”

Iain defiantly strengthened his hold around me, and Father John chuckled, shaking his head.

The priest climbed onto a low wooden platform erected between the bonfires, and a hush fell upon the crowd. Fragrant smoke from juniper and oak branches swirled up into the night breeze, floating toward the full moon that peeked above the pine-topped horizon.

Father John began. “We congregate in celebration of life: to rejoice in the fertility we are granted, to cherish what we’ve been given, and to bring forward life anew. In honor of those things, we bind together several couples in holy matrimony. Before God and your clan, these men and women pledge their love and loyalty until parted by death.

“This celebration of Beltane is a special one. Laird Iain Brodie will be mated to his bride Isobel, bringing strength to the clan and surrounding it with love and stability.”

Iain tightened his arms around me at the priest’s words. I glanced up, locking eyes with the man whose love for me poured out in his mesmerizing gaze. He broke our silent connection, kissing my temple as the ceremony continued.

“Step forward, Iain and Isobel. Do you accept the terms of this matrimony with all your heart and with loyalty to God?”

“I do,” we replied in unison.

The priest nodded, then motioned to another couple, one of Iain’s guards and his betrothed standing on our left.

“Step forward, Calum and Rowena. Do you accept the terms of this matrimony with all your heart and with loyalty to God?”

The guardsman and his bride pledged their vows beside us, as did seven other couples paired together to be united. Loud cheering concluded the group wedding as Iain’s lips claimed mine in a searing kiss.

The crowd swept away the priest and disassembled the platform, tossing the dry wood into the hungry flames. A sea of people parted into an aisle, creating a path leading between the two fires and the empty clearing beyond.

Iain bowed his head to me and said, “Weel, Mrs. Iain Brodie . . . ready?”

I nodded, grinning wide. He led me straight between the blazes, pausing midway through. Heat flared against my back, but I had no complaint as Iain embraced me, kissing me more passionately than he’d ever done before. My knees buckled as I melted into the full-throttle kiss, our lips and tongues intertwining. A white-hot blaze ignited deep within me, surpassing the two burning behind us. The crowd hooted and shouted as Iain ushered us the rest of the way through the tunnel of fire.

We turned and faced the crowd from the other side. Iain pulled me back against his solid chest, locking his hands around my waist. I dropped my head back, grinning broadly, witnessing the historical event unfold.

The other newlywed couples followed in our footsteps, even emulating our midjourney kiss. Afterward, a group of men herded one representative livestock of every kind: horse, cow, sheep, and goat. People carried various crop items through, like wheat and root vegetables. Within minutes, the entire clan had passed through, and the celebration kicked into high gear.

A low drum beat lay down a cadence. Iain kissed me soundly before leaving my side as the men broke out in dance. The ground thundered with the stomps of their feet while we clapped to the accelerating tempo.

Beautiful glass lanterns of various sizes hung from branches that encircled our gathering. The flickering candles within them provided ample light to see the pure joy on everyone’s face.

Soulful bagpipes joined in the music, and Iain rushed over and grabbed my hand, whirling me into the lively scene. I squealed as Iain’s firm hands, one in mine and one at my back, twirled me around and around. His blatant happiness—and everyone’s contagious energy—fueled a drugging high, and the elation shot me into the stratosphere.

Iain spun me right out of the crowd and into the cool darkness of a stand of pines where Dubhar stood, tethered. The black stallion was saddled and carried a satchel and rolled up blankets. Iain swung up onto the horse and gently lifted me, seating me in front of him.

“Iain, where are you taking me?”

He brushed his lips over my ear and growled low, “I’m takin’ my bride to be bedded.”

Chills scattered across my body, and I shivered from the sensation and his words.

A squeeze of his thighs sent our mount off into the night, and I leaned back into my husband’s protective arms. I closed my eyes, absorbing the moment as the rocking rhythm of my man and his steed carried us into the night.

Our journey ended in an abrupt stop. Were it not for Iain’s tight hold around my waist, I’d have been thrown. In one swift motion, he dropped me to the ground, planted a free hand, and swung down without our breaking contact. He unfastened the tied bundle and dropped his hand into mine, lacing our fingers together as he led us down a narrow path lit by the moon’s glow.

Iain’s excited pace nearly rivaled mine, anticipation snapping my senses alive as we broke into a clearing of short grass along a lake.

The far shoreline looked familiar—our date from last night. I glanced up and confirmed that the same rocky ledge we’d sat upon extended directly above us. Perfect.

He led us into a shallow cave already illuminated by dozens of fat beeswax candles. They lined the perimeter and nested in random ledges along the walls. Iain unrolled the blankets onto the ground, and I smoothed down the silk folds of my dress in nervous excitement. After he placed the satchel in the corner, he turned toward me, looking almost as anxious as I felt. But then he smiled and my heart melted, dissolving every apprehension. His rugged features were awash in the moonlight flooding in from behind me. And as that smile gradually grew crooked, I smirked, suddenly feeling just as wicked as he looked.

He took a slow step forward. I did the same. Another stride from each of us, and our bodies met, crushing together in a tangle of roaming hands and hungry mouths.

Iain slowed the pace, dragging his lips over mine in pure devotion. Urgency grew within me, tiny moans escaping from my mouth into his as he deepened our kiss. He leisurely ran his tongue along mine—up one side, across, and down the other.

He moved his hands up from the small of my back. His gentle, heated touch spread across my ribs, skimming up the fabric that covered my breasts. Iain pulled his lips away, and I heard a catch in his breath. I fluttered my eyes open as he took several steps back.

“Undress.” The command was guttural as his gaze pierced mine.

With bunched shoulders, taut thighs, and labored breathing, he looked like a predator preparing to devour his prey. Primal energy permeated the space around us, and a deep, warm ache spread through me as a ravenous hunger unlike any other took hold.

I complied with the demand, stretching my arms back and untying the laces, knowing the action tightened my bodice across the front before the binding loosened. My breathing accelerated to supply oxygen to the blood racing through my veins. I relaxed my arms forward, grasping both the material of the gown and chemise at my breast. In one motion, I pulled everything down, shimmying the material over my hips before it fell to the floor. Wearing absolutely nothing but small leather slippers, I stepped out of the ensemble, never breaking Iain’s gaze.