Brena
Brena took off her shoulder blanket. She gave Rthan a nod to do the same.
When dances involved throws, lifts, or spins, teachers showed the Initiates the moves outside. The soft forest floor was better than the hard stone and clay inside the kiva. This time, they set up the bear skin tent and dance posts near the river, in the shade of tall sequoia trees.
Her thin beaded wrap did not keep her warm. The winter breeze from the river was cold. But she knew they would get hot once they started dancing.
In most dances, male and female Tavaedies moved in and out of the patterns the same way. For some moves, where one dancer had to be lifted or thrown, the stronger men usually took that part. But in most dances, gender didn't matter.
That was not true for the Fertility Dances. In those, men and women danced in pairs.
These moves were softer, more sensual. The feet had to move with perfect care. It was not about jumping. It was about touching.
The man had to hold his partner close. He had to lift her, spin her, stroke her. His body had to match her rhythm—his hips moving with hers.
"The first tama we will show is called 'Jaguar Hunts the Maiden,'" Brena told the students.
She had already gone over the steps with Rthan. But this would be their first time doing the dance together.
The first steps went well.
Then Rthan took her by the waist and lifted her into the air, spinning her.
Their eyes met as she came back down. Her leg stretched behind her as she slid down his strong chest and thigh.
His face burned with a look of deep hunger.
She should not have asked him to dance with her.
She should not have asked him to touch her.
Not if she had to go back to her mat alone at night. Not if she had to lie there, listening to his breathing on the other side of the room, with no right to reach for him again.
The dance told her to skip away from him—and she did, grateful for the space.
Rthan crawled toward her across the dance ground, low like a jaguar.
But the way he moved, it looked less like a crawl and more like a proud ship gliding across the sea.
He grabbed her again and spun her into the next steps.
He leaned her back over his knee.
His breath moved down her neck… down over her chest… her belly.
She didn't feel cold anymore.
His hand brushed her thigh as she shifted into the next pose.
Then a scream broke the air.
Brena froze in Rthan's arms.
She didn't have to think anymore about what she wanted. That didn't matter now.
She pulled away and turned toward the sound. But Rthan and the Initiates looked confused. They didn't seem to hear anything.
"I am under attack! Help me, if you can hear me!" shouted a woman's voice—louder, more afraid.
Still, Rthan frowned at Brena. He didn't hear it. He couldn't hear the Brundorfae.
"Fae," she told him quickly. "I have to go. You're in charge of keeping the Initiates safe!"
Before he could say anything, she ran toward the sound of the bear's cry.