A Fire in the Blood(92)
Chapter Forty-Three
Sitting cross-legged on the bed, Bailey glanced at the time on her cell phone. It was almost three o’clock. In little more than two hours, she would be life-mated to Tristan.
The enormity of what she was about to do hit her for the first time. She was only sixteen. She had never dated anyone except Tristan and after tonight, she would never have that option again. Once they were mated, the bond between them could not be broken.
What if she was making a terrible mistake? Did she want to spend the rest of her life here, with Tristan’s pack? She used to feel all grown up, but now, faced with the reality—the finality—of mating with Tristan, she was beset by doubts.
Maybe Tessa was right. Maybe she was too young to make such a decision.
She stared at the dress hanging on the door of the bedroom she used when she stayed with Tristan’s family. It was long and white, not really a wedding dress, although it looked like one. Tristan’s mother had bought it for her. She had waved Bailey’s protests aside. “I want to do this for you,” Mrs. Kavanagh had said. “You’re going to be my daughter now.”
“Bailey?”
She glanced over her shoulder to see Tristan standing in the doorway.
“Can I come in?”
“Of course. It’s your house.”
Stepping into the room, he said, “In a couple of hours, it will be yours, too.”
She nodded, somewhat reluctantly.
“What is it?” he asked, eyes narrowing. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head vigorously. “Nothing.”
“Bailey, you can’t lie to me. Don’t you know that?” He closed the short distance between them and drew her gently into his arms. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”
She looked up into his eyes, beautiful green eyes filled with love and concern.
“Will you kiss me?”
“Anytime you want me to.” He cupped her face between his hands, a faint smile curving his lips before he covered her mouth with his.
Bailey went up on her tiptoes, her arms sliding around his neck. How could she have ever doubted that being with Tristan was the right thing to do? He was the other half of her heart, the missing part of her soul. Only with him did she feel whole, complete.
Lifting his head, he gazed into her eyes. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on now?”
“Nothing,” she said, smiling. “Nothing at all. Just some last-minute jitters, I guess.”
“I love you,” he whispered. “All the years I followed you, I loved you. When I was old enough to know what old man Fischer was doing to you, I wanted to kill him but my father forbade it, saying it would bring trouble down on the pack. If you hadn’t run away when you did,” he said, his expression fierce, “I would have killed him, the safety of the pack be damned. You’re mine now,” he whispered fervently. “And no one will ever hurt you again.”
With a sigh, Bailey rested her cheek against his chest, home at last.
* * *
Tessa stood beside Andrei, curious as to what being life-mated actually entailed. Earlier, they had spent a few minutes with Bailey, who had thanked them for coming, then introduced them to Tristan’s family.
Tessa glanced at the faces of the other guests. There were perhaps twenty people of various ages gathered in a loose circle at the top of a flat ridge a few miles out of town. She wondered if they were all were-panthers.
A large black bowl sat on a square stone table in the center of the ring.
Tessa bit down on her lower lip. The soft rhythmic sound of so many beating hearts called to her, making it difficult to relax.
Andrei squeezed her hand. “Slow, deep breaths,” he whispered. “Don’t think about anything but Bailey. You’ll be fine.”
Tessa nodded, hoping he was right. Her enhanced vampire perceptions heightened every sense, both internal and external.
As the sun set in a glorious blaze of crimson and ocher, a tall woman in a long, gray robe strode into the center of the circle. Three young girls clad in white gowns followed her. One carried a torch, the other two carried crystal goblets filled with a clear golden liquid.
From somewhere beyond the circle, a drum beat slowly, softly.
When it fell silent, Tristan entered the circle. He wore black pants and a white shirt open at the throat.
The drum beat again and when it stilled, Bailey took her place beside him.
Wearing a long, white gown, with several flowers braided into her long, brown hair, she looked radiant. And happier than Tess had ever seen her.
The woman in gray took the torch from the first girl and touched it to the bowl in the center of the table, and a tiny flame flickered to life.
“We are gathered here this blessed night to unite Tristan Kavanagh and Bailey Fairchild. To be life-mated is a promise for their future, and for the future of the Kavanagh pack.” Her gaze touched that of the young couple, and then she pulled a small knife from inside her robe.