Page 47 of Raven Rebel (Sablewood #1)
Brenna
E nergy buzzed through the halls. The arrival of a multitude of faeries left a charge in the air that called to Brenna’s fire. Sparks danced between her fingertips in her excitement.
Steps led down into a wide field edged with a grove of gnarled yew trees.
Glowing orbs hung from the branches, lighting up the perimeter of the space where faeries of all shapes and colors mingled.
Masks covered their faces, but not their hair tangled with flowers and vines, bushy fox ears popping out from masses of curly hair, skin that shone blue or green or silver as the moon.
As they moved, Brenna spotted a swishing tail that could have belonged to an oversized calico cat.
The diversity was so beautiful, she clutched her hand to her chest.
Tables stretched along the far side, covered with bowls and dishes. Small pumpkins littered between the larger dishes, along with small, gray items that looked suspiciously like animal skulls.
The crowd hushed as Aletris raised her hands. Gold lace curved over her cheekbones and along her brow.
“Welcome, kindred spirits. Tonight we stand between dusk and dawn as the year ends. Join me in revelry while we celebrate life and remember those that have passed on. They have joined with the land that provides this harvest.
“May your magic craft be strengthened with the ancient magic that flows through our blood and within our land. Do not forget your offerings, both of our harvest but also from your bodies. Raise your voices, give yourself over to the wildness that roots us to this land, and celebrate with your spirit!”
The Summer Lady raised a massive golden goblet and took a sip of a dark, thick liquid.
Everyone stood still and silent as she passed it to her companion, who took a drink and passed it to the next faerie.
It moved through the crowd, and Brenna’s sense of apprehension and excitement grew until her magic was buzzing under her skin.
“My fire sprites and salamanders, please help us in lighting the bonfires,” Aletris called.
Brenna felt the urge in her soul, and she stepped forward to join a small, curvy faerie with hair that faded from red at the roots to gold at the tips that skimmed her hips.
Together, they lowered their hands to the small pyre closest to them.
Firelight blazed around them as faeries lit the other bonfires.
With a mere thought, heat flowed from her hand into the wood.
The faerie beside her dripped flames from her fingertips, catching the bundled kindling. Their bonfire flickered to life.
Meara raised the cup, eyeing it suspiciously. Brenna nodded, urging her to drink as she returned to her side. Reluctantly, she did, and Brenna took it from her, taking a sip for herself. The liquid seared down her throat. It was heavily spiced and the cinnamon burned her nose.
She passed the cup to those beside her, and a cool hand brushed hers as they took it from her grasp. Bemused, she looked up into dark eyes that glowed red in the firelight.
“There you are,” Emrys said softly, drawing closer to her, but not touching her again.
She smiled, reaching out to brush the satin fabric of the darkest crimson vest gracing his frame.
His black mask shielded his sharp cheekbones and shaded his long lashes.
She wished to rip it from his face and see him properly.
Voices rose around them, a chant coming together and resonating through the trees. The entire gathering glowed with dozens of bonfires. The music swelled, a hundred voices blending into a type of magic that reverberated in her bones.
“There’s Cerne. I’m going to go speak with him,” Meara said, surging into the crowd. Brenna smiled, watching her sister threading between faeries toward the pair of antlers jutting above the crowd.
In the absence of her sister, Emrys drew closer, and she leaned into him, savoring his stable strength and the way he curled around her. “Do you want to dance or eat?” he asked, his low voice near her ear. A shiver skittered across her shoulders.
“What are the offerings she mentioned?”
He sighed, the movement brushing their bodies together. “We can bring food to the forest, or offer them pieces of ourselves.”
“What does that mean? Blood? ”
Emrys laughed, slow and dark. It brushed over her skin, lighting up every one of her nerves. “As appealing as that sounds, it's usually a display of passion. Many of our festivals include certain activities happening in the darkness.”
Her stomach lurched. Mouth dry, she studied what she could see of his expression. Was he suggesting..?
“Let’s get you fed and we can do an offering,” he said, taking her hand. “A food offering,” he said with a deadly smile. “Though I could be persuaded to make other kinds.”
Fingers entwined, they wove through the crowd. As the faeries parted, they paused to watch Lady Aletris as she held the ceremonial goblet high in the air and slowly poured out the remaining liquid into the flames of the largest bonfire. It fizzed and popped, sending sparks into the purple sky.
Faeries moved around her, dancing in a circle around the fire. Perhaps dancing wasn’t the correct term. They moved wildly, legs kicking and arms waving in graceful arcs. It was chaotic and entrancing.
Emrys’ arm was firm around her, and she leaned into his warmth as they crossed the meadow to the banquet tables.
All sorts of breads and vegetable dishes covered the tables, but she was drawn to the tiny pumpkins littering every available surface.
Emrys lifted one and handed it to her. She tugged on the stem to reveal it had been hollowed out and filled with a creamy soup.
Steam that smelled of allspice and nutmeg wafted from the thick liquid.
Emrys took his own and lifted it to his lips, taking a long drink.
She mirrored him, letting the sweet and hot liquid pour into her belly.
When she lowered the pumpkin, Emrys reached forward and wiped her lip with his thumb, popping it into his mouth with a wicked grin. She wanted to drag him into the darkness of the trees and discover the activities he had alluded to.
Together, they filled a small plate with pastries, dried fruit, and a cluster of cherry tomatoes.
Emrys led her to the edge of the trees where guests placed food around oil portraits.
She looked up at the faces of those who had passed on, finding the one before them eerily familiar.
Brooding heavy brows with fierce golden eyes - it looked like Luce, but with darker hair and much paler skin.
Emrys noted her pause and spoke into her ear, “Elio, my uncle, the Summer Lord, and Aletris’ mate. ”
“Mate? Husband?” she asked, twisting to peer at him.
“I don’t believe they ever wed. It’s not a requirement unless you are the high king and queen,” he explained with a shrug. “If you can magic share, that is what validates the relationship.”
Nodding, Brenna sat the dish of food down below the portrait.
“Have you ever had a partner like that? One you could magic share with?” she asked, her stomach clenching as she waited for his answer.
“Why are you asking, my light?” Emrys ran his hand over her shoulder and up her throat until he tipped her chin back. “Jealous at the idea of me with another?”
She shivered again at his touch, but she prayed he mistook it for the chill in the air. The longer she spent in his presence, the greater the effect he had upon her. He consumed the very air around her.
“I’m not sure. Perhaps.” Her reply earned her a dark laugh that felt like a caress. Taking a shaky breath, she peeled her attention off his full lips and the way he loomed over her.
Her gaze swept the crowd, but she did not see her sister, nor Cerne. Ayala’s bright hair caught the light and Brenna tracked her to a group sitting around a small fire on the fringe of the celebration.
“Do you want to go sit with my friends?” Brenna asked.
Emrys smiled wryly. “I would love that, as long as you promise me I can have you to myself later.”
She tensed her shoulders, refusing to shiver a third time. Emrys draped an arm over her shoulder, pulling her into his warmth. The casual possessiveness sent a thrill through her.
The small group reclined around the fire, laughing and passing a cup between them. Ayala leaned against Harin with his arm over her stomach, and when she saw them, she nodded in greeting.
Brenna sat, pulling Emrys beside her. He leaned back on his hand and she nestled into his side.
Beside them, Vasara’s eyebrows rose, but she said nothing as she passed the cup to Emrys.
He took a long drink and then held it to Brenna’s lips.
She opened and allowed him to pour the spiced cider into her mouth.
Some slipped from her lips and down her chin.
Emrys passed the goblet to Harin, and then turned Brenna’s face with his hand, kissing the corner of her mouth and then running his tongue over the trail of drink. Brenna felt as if she would burst into flames. She gasped, trying to regain any sense of time and space.
His mouth had been on her hand, the crook of her elbow, and even her stomach, but so near to her mouth - her heart stuttered, molten heat roaring through her. The drink blurred her thoughts further until she was delirious.
Glassy eyed, Ayala laughed into the cup before she drank, and Harin tightened his hold on her middle, his fingers pressing into her soft skin.
Brenna watched these faeries she called her friends as she leaned into Emrys and enjoyed his hands running over her arm and settling on her hip.
His lips brushed her ear as he murmured, “I can’t think of a better way to spend Samhain than with you in my arms. ”