strong enough?”
“We hadn’t mated,” he said, letting his head fall back. Staring up at the crystals shining in the rock face, he added, “The coven refused to mate with the Eternals.” He lowered his gaze to hers again. Frustration and old anger radiated off him in thick waves that seemed to reach for her and draw her closer to share in his frustration. As if he believed that she deserved to experience what he had felt that long-ago night. “Sex was all they wanted from us then. You and your sisters closed yourselves off from what we were meant to be together.”
She rubbed at the spot between her eyes as if she could massage more memories into life. But nothing came. There were no images filling her brain; there was only the sinking sensation that he was absolutely right. That she and her sister witches had tossed aside everything good and pure in a futile search for more power. Unaware or unconcerned that with that power would come a darkness they couldn’t control.
“We were meant to be mated. Two halves of the same whole. Our god, Belen, created the Eternals as equal partners for the witches created by his lover, Danu.”
“The mother goddess,” Teresa whispered, remembering some of the things her abuela had taught her about the origins of witches and witchcraft.
“Yes,” Rune said. “She was a bringer of light, knowledge, magic. It’s said she gave birth to the witches so that her children could share her with the world.”
She shook her head; she couldn’t help wondering what Danu would make of her children now.
“Belen was her lover. The sun god. In ancient times, Beltane fires were lit to encourage the warmth of the sun.” He smiled, as if remembering those days and, she supposed, he was. “For love of Danu, Belen created the Eternals. He drew us from the heart of the sun itself, molded the fire and breathed life into our bodies.”
She looked at their joined hands, and as she watched, fire leaped into life around them. Blue, yellow and red flames danced across her skin and his, joining them in a conflagration of heat without pain.
“We were meant, Teresa.” He stared into her eyes, his gray gaze swirling now into rich shades of silver and pewter. “But when you needed us most, there was no mating bond to anchor you.” Rune’s voice came fast and thick, choking with memories that ran soul deep in him. “You stood alone because you wouldn’t accept me as your equal.”
“If I had?”
“We’ll never know,” he admitted. “But I believe that mated souls are stronger together than apart. Otherwise why would we have the Mating ritual at all?”
“Good point.” She flexed her fingers around Rune’s hand and felt the flames quicken with her action.
The room was hot and steamy. The glow of the crystals shone through the mist and Teresa felt everything in her shiver. She wouldn’t again be the woman she had just glimpsed in her fractured memories. She wouldn’t risk the world for her own selfish desires and needs.
This bonding would make them both stronger and she knew that in the coming days they would each need that strength. She had to trust in what she was meant to be. Had to give herself over to the cause that was so much greater than her fears and reluctance to be bonded to any man for eternity. She was doing what she had to do, but she knew that she could never offer him all that she was. She couldn’t pledge her heart and risk an eternity of pain.
Nodding, she swallowed her uncertainties and looked directly into his eyes. “Then let’s do it, Rune. Let’s begin the Mating. I’m ready.”
He took a breath and studied her as if weighing her words. Finally, he said, “Once the Mating ritual has begun, there’s no going back. No changing your mind.”
“I understand.”
“Each time we come together, the Mating will take a greater hold on us. Entwine our souls more completely.”
“I know.” She glanced at their joined hands again and saw the fire burning inside their enclosed palms. Felt its heat snaking down through her system, charging her as if a live electrical wire was being threaded through her veins.
“At the end of thirty days, with our quest fulfilled, the Mating will be complete.”
“Why thirty days?” she asked. “Why not fifteen or twenty?”
“You know why. Somewhere inside you, you feel it. It is the cycle of the moon, Teresa,” he said. “The magic of the