The agreement the immortals made with the temple was that they would treat each witch well.
Desdemona took one last breath and let it out before she left the room and made her way down the elevator to the ground floor. She joined the rest of the witches waiting in the wings to present themselves to immortals who gathered in the ritual space.
She was dressed in a long flowing silver-blue robe that stood out against the dark winter forest. She had taken the color as a kind of indication of her magical ability as a musical air witch.
“Who do you think will come this time?” asked Sarah, one of the witches who had been chosen to be sacrificed to the immortals this time.
“Does it even matter?” Desdemona snapped.
Lucia and Bridget joined them in the tent beside the ritual space and addressed the six women who had been chosen to offer themselves in the mating ritual.
“We have a very special guest with us here today,” Lucia said. “My husband Orion’s brother, Titus, is among the suitors. Titus is the Alpha of the Silverdrake clan, one of the greatest allies of witches in the world. Any of you would be lucky to have him as a match.”
Desdemona tried to hold back her eye roll, but it was impossible. One of these immortal males was as good as the next as far she was concerned. They all just wanted one thing from the witches. This wasn’t about love or anything like it and no matter which male any of them chose, the result would be the same: a life of pregnancy and servitude.
“It looks like we are ready to begin,” Bridget said.
Bridget and Lucia opened the tent and invited the witches who were this month’s offerings to filter out of the tent and into the ritual space. There were at least a hundred males in a circle on the inner perimeter of the megalithic structure. They were all handsome and strong, their youthful looks belying their true age. These men were all Alphas and Kings. That meant they were old and strong.
Desdemona walked out into the center of the ritual space and crossed her arms over her chest, feeling irritated. The other women were tittering and giggling and taking in the sights of all the waiting men. Desdemona sighed and rolled her eyes, puffing out the breath from between her pursed lips.
It was then that a male approached her out of the shadows and grabbed her arm. She looked up at him, her brows knitted in annoyance. As she took in his face, she was bowled over by the memories that had been haunting her dreams.
It was him. The silver-blue eyed dragon. The asshole she’d been in love with.
“It’s you,” he said in a husky deep voice. “I would recognize that scent anywhere.”
“And who are you?” she asked irritably.
“Titus Silverdrake. Do you not remember me?”
“Well, you see, the thing is, Titus Silverdrake. Unlike you, I’ve died hundreds of times over the last two thousand years. At least that’s what they tell me happened, since I’ve been imprisoned here in this temple.”
“How are you in prison?” he asked, tilting his head.
“Do you think any of us really has a choice here?”
“You have as much choice as the rest of us immortals do.”
“How do I even know I’m immortal? I’m only nineteen years old. When I’m a hundred and fifty-seven, then I’ll believe that I’m actually immortal.”
“Have you had no memory of your past?”
“I’ve had a few dreams…about you. You always seemed like a dick.”
“A…dick?”
“I think I was in love with you. But you didn’t want me. Then you did want me, but mostly to one-up your buddy. That’s what I got from the dream anyway.”
“Your name was Patrice in those days. What is your name now?”
“My name is Desdemona Hawthorne. I suppose you have the same name. Lucky you.”
“Desdemona Hawthorne. I would not be here if I had a choice myself. Do you think that it has been easy for the other immortals all this time without our magic? I spent two thousand years in human form unable to shift. Men like my brother Orion watched his pregnant wife die right in front of his eyes. You got to be blissfully ignorant for two thousand years. I think you are the lucky ones.”
“Ha!” Desdemona scoffed.
“Since I am myself forced to find a bride or have my position as Alpha questioned, I would like to offer you this rose as a representation of my intentions toward you.”
“Everybody wants to give me a rose. You realize that, right?”
“Of course, there are many of us and few of you. We were intended two thousand years ago. And I believe that we would have married if you had not sacrificed yourself for the veil.”
“You really think I would have married you?”
“I believe you would have come around in the end,” he said, crossing his arms.
Titus Silverdrake was six-foot-four, with broad shoulders, and silver-blue eyes that bore directly into her soul. His black hair was styled expertly, making him look like a professional in his black suit and polished shoes. He wore a tie that matched the color of eyes and a thick gold watch on his wrist, completing the look of a powerful businessman. It made her a little sick to her stomach how attractive she found him.
Yet she couldn’t help the feeling he stirred inside her. Her dreams of him were real. She had experienced them herself, and all the feelings that went along with them.
Desdemona was still not fully convinced they were true memories. Maybe she was just being manipulated and led along by all these demonic assholes who had destroyed the human world.
“Why do you believe I would have come around?” she challenged.
“Because you loved me,” he said matter-of-factly, pushing the rose into her hand.
“I loved you? But did you love me?” she blurted out, feeling same sting she had inside her dreams.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Lucia announced from the center of the circle. “I see that each of the ladies has a rose now. I would ask that each gentleman who intends to give a rose to one of the ladies do it now. The witches will then retire to make their decisions.”
Desdemona gave Titus a dark look and walked off toward the tent as a dozen other men tried to shove roses in her face. She grabbed a couple of them, just to make Titus jealous. When she made it into the tent, she threw them all in the corner and sat down in a huff. The other witches were all blushing and gushing as they counted their roses. Bridget approached Desdemona where she sat on her chair. Her mentor gave her a questioning look.
“I see Titus found you,” Bridget said.
“Am I supposed to be impressed or something?” Desdemona asked. “Because I’m not.”
“Titus is Orion’s brother,” Bridget said. “He’s an excellent match. I wouldn’t have minded being matched with him myself.”
“You’re kidding. You know he’s just as bad as the rest of them.”
“If I’m not mistaken, you were once called Patrice. I wasn’t sure of it until now. But after seeing Titus go straight to you, I know that it’s true. He could sense it more readily than anyone else, including you. That means something, don’t you think?”
“So Bridget, tell me, did I marry Titus when I was Patrice?”
Desdemona was challenging Bridget now. She knew she’d never married anyone in her previous life.
“No. There were some issues with another man and your relationship with Titus had always been tumultuous.”
“Why?” she asked.
“I don’t know. All of that was between you and Titus. None of it is in the temple database, only a few references noting the nature of the relationship. Maybe you should ask him.”
“Maybe I will. Maybe I won’t.”
“I suggest you decide quickly. Because the males who have come for the mating ritual expect that each of you will choose your matches by the end of the day.”
Bridget turned on her heel and walked out of the tent, leaving Desdemona with her dark thoughts. Her memories of Titus were so vague and dreamlike that she had no idea if she was
walking into a viper pit or a bed of roses. What she did know was that she had had feelings for him that she didn’t feel were properly returned. Apparently, the immortals two thousand years ago worked a lot differently than they did today.
Desdemona had been living in rural compounds without electricity or reliably running water for the last two years, but when she had gone to high school in the old world, she had dealings with boys that had taught her all she needed to know about men.
They would string you along and try to get what they wanted, and then walked away as if it meant nothing. And the feelings she had in those dreams about Titus reminded her distinctly of the feeling she had when she’d been blown over by boys in high school.
As far she was concerned, Titus wasn’t any better than the average seventeen-year-old player. But if she didn’t choose Titus, she was going to have to choose one of these other assholes. She didn’t know which was worse.
The other men who had arrived for the mating ritual weren’t disgusting or bad looking. They were all immortals looking to impregnate someone. She didn’t have a lot of respect for any of them.
Titus, on the other hand, seemed less than thrilled to be there. She felt a sense of comradery with him. Everyone was telling her that she had to find a mate or she’d be kicked out of the temple. And he had to find a mate or lose his position as Alpha. Maybe going with Titus was her safest bet.
After an hour, the witches were expected to rejoin the males in the rituals space and announce whose offering they had accepted. Desdemona had about a dozen roses with the names of the males on little tags around each stem. She hadn’t really gotten a chance to speak with any of the others because Titus had monopolized her time. She let out a deep breath and decided that choosing the asshole she knew was slightly better than choosing an asshole she didn’t.
When it was her turn to announce whose rose she would accept, she walked up to the head of the line and cleared her throat.
“My name is Desdemona Hawthorne and I accept the offering of Titus Silverdrake,” she said, her annoyance evident in her voice.
The men and witches looked at her with blank expressions on their faces, clearly responding to her absolute and total lack of enthusiasm for the entire process. What was she supposed to do? Pretend like she wanted to be part of this? Pretend like this wasn’t completely insulting to her soul?
Titus stepped forward and reached out his hand to her. She slid her hand into his. On contact with him, a flood of sensation entered her body. All the darkness she had experienced over the last two years overtook her, and she promptly passed out.
When Desdemona woke up she was riding through the clouds in a spaceship. She sat up with a start and gasped, banging her head against the door of the ship. The pain sliced through her skull and she placed her palm on the growing bump. She glanced over at the driver and saw that it was Titus. His hands gripped on the steering wheel of the technological marvel. Desdemona had seen plenty of these advanced crafts flying about in the sky but never actually been in one, not even during her months at the temple.
“What happened? Where are you taking me?”
“You passed out. But only after you had agreed to be my bride. Now I am taking you home.”
“Where are my things?”
“Your few belongings were packed into the storage bay of my craft. You have nothing to worry about.”
“So what now?” she asked. “Are you going to take me back to your fortress and repeatedly rape me until I give birth to your child?”
He gave her a disgusted look but said nothing. He then looked straight ahead at his path through the sky.
“Just remember, I was forced into this is much as you were. I don’t think either of us wanted this any more than the other.”
“Is that the reason you wanted to marry me the last time?”
“The last time?”
“You know, before my Goddess asked me to sacrifice myself?”
“You were a silly girl then and you are a silly girl now.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” she said, crossing her arms and looking straight ahead.
She knew it all along: he was a total dick.
“Well, if I’m silly then you are also silly because you wanted to marry me. What are you, like hundred million years old? I’m only nineteen. What kind of sicko hundred-million-year-old wants to marry a nineteen-year-old girl? Answer that.”
“First of all, there isn’t a single immortal alive on the planet today who is a hundred million years old. I don’t know if the Goddess of Gama is even a hundred million years old, to tell you the truth. But since you asked, I’m five thousand. You are an immortal with many past lives. It isn’t as if you are truly nineteen. Although, I can’t really see the difference right now.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“For all intents and purposes, darling, you are a nineteen-year-old human.”
“And?”
“Let’s be clear, dear. You are a nineteen-year-old girl and I’m a successful businessman. Let’s say for comparison’s sake that I am perhaps thirty-five. That would be fair, right?”
“You look more like you’re twenty-seven, but okay.”
“Suppose I’m even just a thirty-five-year-old human and you’re a nineteen-year-old human, that would still be quite a bit of difference don’t you think?”
“Yeah. That was my point. What’s your point?”
“My point is that you are still a child and you should listen to me.”
“Oh, oh, oh. The gloves have come off now haven’t they?”
“These things are simply true. We need to get through this situation unscathed. We have two prerequisites here. One is we must be matched. Two we must produce an heir to the Silverdrake clan. Aside from that, our association is irrelevant.”
“Wow, I don’t remember you being this romantic in my dreams,” she said.
“If you must know, I did have feelings for you before. But at this point, I can’t remember why.”
“That makes two of us. How did I get into this again? I should’ve chosen someone else.”
“Well your other choice wasn’t there today. It was only me. And Kyran isn’t a King.”
“Kyran?”
“You know, that vampire who interfered in our affairs. The one who asked you to be his bride two thousand years ago. Don’t you remember?”
“His name is Kyran? Where is he? Who is he?”
“I don’t feel that matters. You’ve accepted my offering today. I’ve chosen you and we are matched. That’s all there is to it.”
“You and I both know that is not the end of the story. I still haven’t been claimed by you.”
“That is a fact that will be remedied soon enough.”
“You’d claim me without my permission?”
“I am sure when the time comes you will be begging for it.”
“Ha! You really are full of yourself, aren’t you?”
“No. I just remember what it used to be like all those years ago, little Desdemona.”
“And I remember what you used to be like. So don’t count on me letting you claim me anytime soon.”
They stared at each other as the vessel flew through the sky, their dark gazes locked in mutual irritation.
Chapter 7
Titus landed his jet on the roof of his St. Louis skyscraper and helped his new bride descend the stairs. There were several Goudy servants there ready to take her bags and carry them down to her private chambers. When he had decided to go to the mating ritual, he had never imagined that he would find Patrice. But that was exactly what had happened. Now he was stuck with her.
He hadn’t been lying when he said that he had feelings for her back then, because he had. It was Patrice that believed he was lying. In some ways, he couldn’t blame her. In all the years they’d known each other, he had been distant. He’d had his reasons, which were vastly different than the ones she believed he’d had, then or now. After the day he had given
her his rose all those years ago, she’d refused to speak to him again. She hadn’t taken either him or Kyran as her mate and had died a virgin.
Patrice had been a beautiful woman, but perhaps not quite as beautiful as her new incarnation as Desdemona. He watched the girl walk in the long flowing silver-blue gown she wore. Her long black hair cascaded in soft waves around her shoulders and down her back. It fell against the base of her spine above the roundness of her plump ass. He couldn’t help but notice the curves of her delicious young body as she followed his servants into the building.
They all went inside and took the elevator to the penthouse. Though he hadn’t necessarily expected to find a bride today, he had prepared for the possibility that he would. While he did not want a woman in his own room, he had prepared rooms for her across from his own. His servants took her few bags into their new chambers and set them at the end of the bed on an upholstered white bench.
The room was furnished in the most modern luxurious showroom-quality furnishings that money could buy. The Silverdrake clan were multi-billionaires with vast holdings and had the luxuries that went along with such a distinction. Even before the Dark Sun had brought magic back into the world, the Silverdrake clan were incredibly wealthy and lived life on the top of the food chain.
While his nephew Ajax had been a world-class athlete who had played professionally in the team under an assumed name, Titus had been happy to manage the team and watch from the comfort of private skybox. Even after the Dark Sun, Ajax had been pestering him to start the games up again using immortal players.
Titus had always thought that Ajax’s participation in the games had been cheating, but many immortals did the same thing so it leveled the playing field. With so much to attend to in the world, he had left sports aside, but was beginning to see some wisdom in starting the game up again. It would help the humans and immortals alike focus on something other than the difficulty of reconstructing their world.
He watched Desdemona as she looked around her room, her face unreadable and her arms pressed tightly under her pert breasts. Everything about her screamed adolescent. As he watched her inspect the room, he seriously questioned his own sanity for taking her on right now.