Page 26 of Their Blood Rite

Walking to the fire is a rite of passage. They say it’s a way for the blood moon to get a good look at us and help it to choose the magic we will inherit.

I stop at the gates of my father’s precious house.

One day, I’ll burn it down out of spite.

‘Here.’ He hands me a lit black candle, and we walk on.

The owls hoot as they watch us, and the canopy above dances in the delicate breeze as if talking in whispers.

More join us on the path. Females dressed just like me and staring ahead just as anxiously. Our eyes meet briefly before they step out with their escorts at their backs. Some have both parents. Some entire families. I can’t think of anything worse than having my whole family watch this nightmare. Knowing my father will be there is bad enough.

Only the females come like this. The males whose turn it is to join in the Rite will already be there by the fire.

Preparing.

Drinking spirits and smoking herbs that adle the mind.

This is a great night for them. One they have awaited since they were old enough to be told of it.

There are three girls ahead of me, and by the time I see the clearing ahead, there are seven more behind. The last girl I pass is Thalia. Her eyes are red and puffy, and when she sees me, she goes to speak. A harsh warning from her father ends her attempt. Good thing. Because I wouldn’t hesitate to slam my fist into her face.

My feet stumble as I enter the clearing, and I'm horrified at the sheer number of eyes on me.

On all of us.

There must be thirty males here, all standing on the opposite side of a great pyre, taking stock of… well… their stock, I suppose.

To the left is a huddle of females in the same dress style as us but blue.

They’re from the water coven. Another huddle wears silver. Air witches. Then, two females in orange. Very rare fire witches. Not many survived the war. They were on the front lines against the blood witches and the unseelie, using their mastery over fire to torch them alive. They were hunted by the blood coven and almost wiped out. A few live on, but with so few, their poweris weak. Only a full coven, united by blood, can create a strong coven with powerful magic.

Which is why the blood rite is so essential. More witches joining the coven means more power. Add the potency of sex, lust and desire, and it’s one hell of a power boost.

The males are eyeing us up.

Eleven girls.

Thirty men.

They all nudge each other and whisper, pointing to the females who catch their eye. Looking at all our naked bodies barely concealed in the varying colours of chiffon.

I notice I’m the only one with my hair up. Something I resent as the girls have used their locks to attempt to cover their tits from view.

The males part. From behind, Cole strides through.

All the females before him, and his eyes land on mine and mine alone. Those gathered at his side give him space. None dare get too close. No one would ever wish to end up on the wrong side of the most powerful son of the Coven, and everyone knows he doesn’t like to be crowded. He holds up his flask and sips. Then he smiles and winks at me.

Fucking dick. I never realised how much I could hate someone until now.

They drink and talk. The more they drink, the louder they get.

I like the blonde one.

The dark-haired one’s most appealing.

The one in the green dress with starlight hair is cute.

That final comment has three men from another coven glaring at me. Judging by their light blue cloaks, they’re all from a water coven by the sea.

---