Illusions: Paranormal Shapeshifter Romance (The Seekers Book 1) by Carina Wilder Page A
Authors: Carina Wilder
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bewitch them; it was the only possible solution.
And yet it was the others, those poor, innocent young women, who were accused of witchcraft, while she and her Sisterhood roamed free. Such an injustice. There was nothing innocent about her, they insisted in their murmured conversations.
----
S era made her way to the stone church in the town’s centre, which had been built in 1629. Nyx accompanied her, quietly tucked inside her small pack which was slung over one shoulder. His grunts of protest were soft and hesitant now; he knew the drill well enough. No chattering around the town’s women, or the men for that matter. And there would be both at this meeting, neither gender tolerant of small rodents.
Sera’s self-imposed mission on this particular day was to catch any news of the Guild’s whereabouts, their movements, to learn if they’d been further threatening the women of Salem.
The Sisterhood had a general hatred of men, for various reasons. Aside from the Crones’ assertions that most males were seducers who made women into slaves, cooks, cleaners and subjected them to all sorts of other ills, there was the fact that one had recently stolen one of the Aspirants from among their ranks.
As Sera eyed the locals, she recalled the circumstances surrounding Melina’s departure a year earlier. Like Sera, she had shown serious promise even as a young girl. Her skills included an ability to read the intentions of others, often before they knew them themselves. Her Familiar was a cat: an ornery calico beast called Heck. The cat, as if presaging Melina’s future, had always hated the women of the Sisterhood, scratching her way through life, hissing at their Familiars, even while Melina seemed all charm and smiles. She was, for a time, the golden child of the Sisterhood, though Sera had always gotten the impression that Hedy wasn’t overly fond of her. Perhaps she’d known something; seen the desertion before it happened.
When a particularly handsome man had approached Melina one day in town, she had quickly allowed herself to be swept up into his promises of a life better than any that the Sisterhood could offer, and she had left, surrendering her title of Aspirant and any affiliation with the Crones or the Sisterhood itself.
But well before any of that had occurred, she had performed the Bonding ceremony, as per the Crones’ wishes. It was the only such rite that Serafina had ever witnessed. And what she’d seen had changed her life.
Sera had been twenty at the time; old enough to bond herself. But she had asked for a delay since her sister was young and, she felt, in need of her older sibling’s care. The Crones had allowed her to delay indefinitely, and only recently had the pressure begun to increase.
In contrast, Melina’s Bonding had taken place as soon as the woman had come of age. Had she had her way, it would have occurred even sooner. Never had one of the Aspirants itched so much to come into her own; she was ambitious, even ruthless. Whether she was excited by the sexual pleasures that awaited her or the residual effects of the rite itself, no one had known.
Sera was the only one who had watched the event. Viewing was not generally allowed, but in her defence, it had occurred somewhat accidentally. She had been returning from a solo hunt when she’d come across the scene in the field outside of Ealdor: candles on tall stands. A bed, set up elegantly in the midst of grasses which surrounded it like a thick carpet, a canopy sweeping around it, translucent material allowing the couple to be seen from the outside by anyone with keen eyes.
Sera had stood behind a tree, too fascinated to turn away as she’d witnessed Melina welcome the man, her legs moving apart as she invited him into her. The masked man had taken her violently, groans emerging from his throat as he came closer to his climax. Melina’s head had fallen back, flexible, loose, as she cried out, accepting his hard thrusts, her arms
And yet it was the others, those poor, innocent young women, who were accused of witchcraft, while she and her Sisterhood roamed free. Such an injustice. There was nothing innocent about her, they insisted in their murmured conversations.
----
S era made her way to the stone church in the town’s centre, which had been built in 1629. Nyx accompanied her, quietly tucked inside her small pack which was slung over one shoulder. His grunts of protest were soft and hesitant now; he knew the drill well enough. No chattering around the town’s women, or the men for that matter. And there would be both at this meeting, neither gender tolerant of small rodents.
Sera’s self-imposed mission on this particular day was to catch any news of the Guild’s whereabouts, their movements, to learn if they’d been further threatening the women of Salem.
The Sisterhood had a general hatred of men, for various reasons. Aside from the Crones’ assertions that most males were seducers who made women into slaves, cooks, cleaners and subjected them to all sorts of other ills, there was the fact that one had recently stolen one of the Aspirants from among their ranks.
As Sera eyed the locals, she recalled the circumstances surrounding Melina’s departure a year earlier. Like Sera, she had shown serious promise even as a young girl. Her skills included an ability to read the intentions of others, often before they knew them themselves. Her Familiar was a cat: an ornery calico beast called Heck. The cat, as if presaging Melina’s future, had always hated the women of the Sisterhood, scratching her way through life, hissing at their Familiars, even while Melina seemed all charm and smiles. She was, for a time, the golden child of the Sisterhood, though Sera had always gotten the impression that Hedy wasn’t overly fond of her. Perhaps she’d known something; seen the desertion before it happened.
When a particularly handsome man had approached Melina one day in town, she had quickly allowed herself to be swept up into his promises of a life better than any that the Sisterhood could offer, and she had left, surrendering her title of Aspirant and any affiliation with the Crones or the Sisterhood itself.
But well before any of that had occurred, she had performed the Bonding ceremony, as per the Crones’ wishes. It was the only such rite that Serafina had ever witnessed. And what she’d seen had changed her life.
Sera had been twenty at the time; old enough to bond herself. But she had asked for a delay since her sister was young and, she felt, in need of her older sibling’s care. The Crones had allowed her to delay indefinitely, and only recently had the pressure begun to increase.
In contrast, Melina’s Bonding had taken place as soon as the woman had come of age. Had she had her way, it would have occurred even sooner. Never had one of the Aspirants itched so much to come into her own; she was ambitious, even ruthless. Whether she was excited by the sexual pleasures that awaited her or the residual effects of the rite itself, no one had known.
Sera was the only one who had watched the event. Viewing was not generally allowed, but in her defence, it had occurred somewhat accidentally. She had been returning from a solo hunt when she’d come across the scene in the field outside of Ealdor: candles on tall stands. A bed, set up elegantly in the midst of grasses which surrounded it like a thick carpet, a canopy sweeping around it, translucent material allowing the couple to be seen from the outside by anyone with keen eyes.
Sera had stood behind a tree, too fascinated to turn away as she’d witnessed Melina welcome the man, her legs moving apart as she invited him into her. The masked man had taken her violently, groans emerging from his throat as he came closer to his climax. Melina’s head had fallen back, flexible, loose, as she cried out, accepting his hard thrusts, her arms
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