Kinktober: Talder One-Shots

Day 2: Breeding Kink/Jealousy/Beltane

The fires of Beltane flickered in the night, casting long shadows over the field where the witches of Fort Salem gathered. The air was thick with the scent of burning herbs and the sound of drums, a primal rhythm that thrummed through the earth and into the very bones of those who danced around the flames. This was the night of the dance, of magic, of fertility. A night when the wild magic of the earth could mingle with the witches, where ancient rituals connected them to their roots, to their most primal selves.

Tally's heart pounded in her chest as she spun through the throng of dancers, her body moving with the reel, the rhythm of the drums pulsing through her veins. The exhilaration of the night coursed through her, her skin tingling with the energy that filled the air. The other witches were just as caught up in it, their movements fluid, graceful, as they swayed and spun around the towering bonfire at the center of the field.

The Beltane dance was a tradition as old as witchcraft itself, a celebration of life, fertility, and the binding of magic. Partners were said to be chosen by fate. As the reel progressed, partners became closer and fate found those who matched each other. It was a sacred thing, powerful and ancient.

But Tally's mind was on Sarah.

Sarah stood at the edge of the gathering, watching the dance unfold with a dark, unreadable expression. She had already moved away with the witchfather, but she had stayed at the edge not continuing with her previous ritual of finding a secluded spot with the man. This year, she watched Tally. There was a possessiveness in her gaze, a sharp intensity that made Tally's skin prickle with awareness every time their eyes met across the fire.

Tally spun again, her breath quickening as she felt the pull of the dance, the magic thick in the air around her. She could feel the tug of fate, the way it guided her movements, the way it pulled her toward her eventual partner. But Sarah wasn't near her. She had already left the reel.

As the dance progressed, Tally found herself slowing, her body instinctively moving toward one of the others in the circle. He was tall, broad-shouldered, his dark hair gleaming in the firelight as he reached out to take her hand. Tally felt the jolt of magic as their fingers touched, a spark of connection that was undeniable, unavoidable. The magic had chosen him for her, and for a brief moment, Tally let herself be swept up in it.

But her heart pounded with uncertainty.

She had known that this was part of the reel, part of the ritual. Partners were chosen by the earth's magic, not by desire. And yet, as she stood there, her hand in his, she felt the tension building in her chest. This wasn't right. This wasn't who she wanted.

Before she could say anything, she felt the presence nearing her—a familiar, commanding presence that made her entire body tense in anticipation.

Sarah.

Tally's breath caught in her throat as she turned slightly, her eyes meeting Sarah's intense gaze across the flames. Sarah's face was hard, her expression set in a mask of barely concealed jealousy. Her dark eyes flicked to the man who held Tally's hand, a flicker of something dangerous passing across her features.

Without a word, Sarah strode forward, her presence parting the crowd like a force of nature. The man who had been chosen for Tally by the magic of the earth faltered, his grip on her hand loosening as Sarah approached. There was no question of what would happen next—Sarah wouldn't allow anyone else to have Tally, not tonight.

"Come with me," Sarah commanded, her voice low and rough, leaving no room for argument.

Tally hesitated for only a moment, her heart pounding as she felt the weight of the decision before her. The magic of Beltane was powerful, but Sarah's hold on her was something else entirely. She nodded, letting her hand slip from the man's grasp, her eyes never leaving Sarah's.