The blood ran down their chests, dark red against tawny skin. Their brothers' hand prints glistened darkly in the light of the dancing fire, so bleakly enchanting it heightened their senses to a level of unimaginable proportions.
The Lion glanced around at his brothers, noting the expectant gleam that glittered brightly in each set of eyes.
The ceremony itself was painful, grueling to an extent, but the arrival of the Sovereign, and the promise that her arrival held, always filled them with a sense of deep anticipation and tingling awareness.
And he knew from his vision that this Sovereign was particularly beautiful.
A smooth, pale face devoid of any blemishes, perfectly sculpted into a bewitching oval. Long, slender nose with a smattering of honey colored freckles dusting the pale skin. Red, full lips that tugged up at the corners to reveal a glowing smile that had held him enthralled at the same time it sent shock waves through his system. Her eyes, probably the most striking and captivating feature that belonged to her, were large and luminous, shaped almost like a cat's, and framed by thick, curling lashes. The color of the forest, they were a deep evergreen shot through with spears of honey and amber. And the cloud of hair that framed that magnificent face? A thick, voluminous mass of cascading curls that bounced as she walked, a light, earthy brown one moment and the next a swirl of mahogany and gold that shone in the sun.
And if her gorgeous face wasn't enough, then one would definitely find satisfaction in the daringly sexy body that he had just barely glimpse through her loose, billowing shirt. The kind of curves a man wanted to hold, the kind that filled his palms and made his desire burn hotter, harder. One could by no means conclude from the shape of her body the word "heavy" and nor could one mistake her for a twig that would be easily snapped she participate in any form of rough or rowdiness. She'd found a harmonious balance, a middle ground, between the two extremes. Her curves were just curvy enough, her limbs just slender enough, her breasts and stomach just round enough to make him instantly want her, instantly need her...even as he mourned the loss of his most beloved companion, his wife.
He could only barely begin to fathom what the others would feel once they saw the vision that would be revealed to them through this ceremony.
The others were much less controlled than the Lion, their debauched self-control almost to the breaking point.
Their reactions would be obvious, and almost certainly vocal.
"It's time to start the ceremony," the Lion stated, tossing the dagger that had opened their wounds, and their hearts, into the crackling, leaping fire.
His comrades nodded silently, traveling around him to form a perfect circle about the Central Fire. Disrobing completely, they crouched low to the ground, propping themselves on one knee as they bent their heads in a sign of both respect and submission.
Taking the lead, the Lion knelt to the ground in the same fashion as his brothers, laying his left arm across his bent knee and reaching out his right hand to rest lightly on his brother's chest, just above the Leopard's heart. The Leopard followed suit in the same way, reaching out to connect with the Cheetah. The Cheetah did the same to the Jaguar and so on and so forth until the circle had been completed. Looking around, the Lion took a deep breath and plunged his mind straight into his vision.
The Central Fire focused their minds, hearts, and spirits, drawing their magic out from the deepest parts of their bodies and pushing it through themselves and into their leader. If the ceremony worked, the Lion's vision would expand to such a degree that they'd be able to find a location in which to hunt the Sovereign. Sometimes it took hours of observation, and others merely seconds.
With a profound sigh of resignation, the Lion called up the image he had witnessed earlier that day. The woman in the rain, the very center of natural magic, rejoicing in the goodness that Mother Earth had given her.
He could already tell that she would make a fine Sovereign.
Using his brothers' power to focus, he concentrated hard, telling the image to expand, to flow, and show him more.
What was the Sovereign doing at that moment? Where was she now? How could he find her? And, possibly the most important question, how would he remove her?
Most of their previous Sovereigns had already known of their existence. The Right often times ran in families. If one woman was a Sovereign, most likely an immediate relative would take her place once she died.
But magic was always unpredictable and there were a few instances in which the Sovereign who had been revealed not only did not have any idea who they were but was, indeed, quite influenced by society around her. Every time they'd tried to extract one of these Sovereigns, it had ended in her death.
He didn't want to lose this one. It would take too long to find a new Sovereign, time they really didn't have. His brothers were restless enough already, they really didn't need to-
The flash caught again, the fire erupted.
The image exploded in his mind.
