The moment you accept a cupla, your body no longer belongs to you.
I gouge my fingers through the fluffy moss and into the cool soil beneath, pretending they’re roots of a tree digging into the calming earth. But it barely takes the edge off this claustrophobic pressure I’m being crushed beneath by the echo of Gael’s words.
I shouldn’t be here.
If I got caught in a place like this by the wrong person, the consequences would be catastrophic. That much is clear. A thought that shouldn’t spike my blood with a bolt of thrill that electrifies me from the inside out.
Women have been labeled witches and burned at the stake for breaking their seals in the lead up to their coupling ceremonies.
I scoff, shaking my head, wondering how many of those women felt the same as me—like they’d sold their body, not their soul; like the white sheets they slept in felt like a cage they were doomed to wither between.
Promising yourself to another shouldn’t mean youloseyourself in the process.
The cavern’s vibrations thump through me as I feed the rich, botanical smells into my lungs, feeling my body erupt with thick, pulsinglife.
A ball of laughter bursts up my throat.
I didn’t leave my Safety Line to be forced into another box. To be owned by a man who doesn’t even know me.
I told Cainon I’d be his perfect High Mistress, and I will. But I’m nothisyet.
I’m stillmine.
And right now … I want to dance.
I shove up, looking down upon the dimly lit crowd lost in their own erotic splendor, their features half hidden by their masks. All I can see is a wash of bare, thudding movement and tangled limbs. I run my fingers along the edge of the soft material melding to my features.
Nobody’s going to recognize me.
Another giddy surge strikes, and I whip off my cap, unpin my hair, and let it fall, heavy and free. I stuff the pin and cap in my bag, then tuck it behind a dense patch of vines before descending the stairs, bare feet padding across the mossy ground as I inject myself into the throng, heading in the direction of the waterfall.
Sweat-slicked bodies push and slide against me, glassy-eyed people feeding each other those plump, red fruits while they grope and grind and sway.
I’m nobody—nothing.Just a body in a swarm of carnal movement that has no rhyme or reason.
My steps begin to slow, and I stop pushing forward, charmed by the drum’s rousing beat. Surrounded by the gorging pulse, my body sways, fueled by wild, reckless abandon that lightens my limbs and heats my blood.
My head tips back, hips and shoulders loosening, pelvis swaying, my hair a messy tangle as I shift like tiding water. But the band around my chest is too tight. Pinching me and constricting my arms. Controlling my breaths.
I’m sick of control.
I weave my hand beneath my shirt and rip at the tail end of the wrap flattening my curves, unraveling myself with fierce, frustrated fingers, breathing an intoxicating sigh of relief when the fabric falls at my feet. Hands threading through my loose hair, my heavy breasts bounce with the rhythmic pulse of my motions, throat aching as emotion wells up—and I let go.
For the first time in my life, I trulylet go.
Free.
I lose all sense of time and self. There is only the beat. The moss cushioned between my toes. The rich smells heaping into my parched lungs.
When a hand slides around my front and makes my skin prickle, body lining up with my back, my movements come to a crashing halt.
“You’remagnificent,” an unfamiliar voice whispers against my ear—deep and rusty.
I look over my shoulder into pale blue eyes that hold a lusty glint. See short, golden hair and a young, handsome half-face, his dimpled smile beguiling, accentuated by a scar that curves from the corner of his mouth and up beneath his mask.
“Thank you …”
My heartbeat and the drums gallop along in synchrony …
