Emma lay in the candlelit room, the covers pulled tight around her body. The medicine women cleansed the space with white sage to assure the ritual would be pure. The room was hazy, incense burning along with the candles. The other women finished their duties of preparation and departed, leaving Emma alone with her thoughts. She really wished they hadn't.

It was an honor to be chosen to perform the role of the Virgin Priestess in the Rites of Beltane, but Emma was nervous now that she lay upon the bed, nothing but the covers separating her body from the air. One of the Hunters would kill the king's stag, her father's stag, and then he would enter and they would make love as their forefathers had for centuries.

The fertility ritual was as old as time itself. Beltane represented the love making of the God and the Goddess, and the Rites were performed to honor that union. So while others were feasting and dancing to bring forth a fertile spring, and harvest when autumn arrived, Emma was mentally preparing herself as she waited.

It was the waiting that brought on the nerves. She was ready to give herself to this man. She was eighteen, and despite her parents' apprehension, Emma had decided to honor the lottery. There was a part of this that excited her, the mystery and secrecy. The more she thought about the Hunter, the more she could feel the pooling between her legs. She hoped that he would be tender and slow. She hoped that she would be good.

Emma was fidgeting with the iron mask she was supposed to wear to keep her identity secret. During the ritual, neither the Hunter nor the Priestess was supposed to speak or look upon the other's face. They were a representation of the God and Goddess. They were not meant to know one another, and were only meant to be together that one night.

The drumming and chanting outside was growing louder. Emma could feel her heart pounding along with them in her chest. Her nerves and excitement were getting the better of her. Then the noise stopped, and her heart along with it. The Hunter had returned successful. This was what she had been waiting for.

Emma heard slow footsteps down into the room. There he was: Her Hunter. He was tall and broad shouldered. His bare torso exposed toned shapely muscles. He too was naked, save for a leather cloth tied around his narrow hips and a mask made from the same leather. His hair was dark and worn short. But what really stunned Emma were his eyes. This man had the most piercing blue eyes Emma had ever seen. They reminded her of the ocean on a clear summer's day. They were soft and powerful, gentle and intense all at once.

He stepped closer and closer towards the bed. When he reached her, he gently took hold of one of Emma's hands and brushed a kiss over her knuckles, his eyes never leaving Emma's own stormy orbs. With his kind act of respect, Emma's nerves were now at ease.

The Hunter stood before her and pulled the blanket slowly away from her body, revealing her creamy skin and the painted markings she was covered in. It was then that Emma noticed that the Hunter was missing his left hand. However, she was pulled back into the moment with the realization that she had never been naked in front of a man before, she was now very aware of his eyes on her. She wanted him so badly she ached and hoped that he would want her just as much.

Very slowly, the Hunter crawled up over Emma where she lay bare. He leaned in, with a reassuring gaze, and tenderly pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was electric. Emma began to feel tingling dancing all over her skin. His hand found hers resting over her breasts and he ran his fingers over her arms and up her shoulders causing the tingling to intensify. He cupped her cheek, and kissed her again, only this time Emma found herself intensifying the kiss, requesting access with her tongue. He gladly accepted. Emma loved the way his slight scruff felt as it brushed across her face. Now she was running her hands over his lean muscular body, exploring his torso.

He now moved his hand down her side, over her hip, and down her thigh. Emma legs spread a little at this and she knew he would be able to feel how wet she was as he rested his hips against hers. She could feel him against her now, his erection throbbing, which only made her ache for him more. He rocked his hips a few times and then he was inside of her.

Emma had never known such pleasure. His thrusts were slow at first, taking the time to make sure she was ready. Emma felt her hips bucking towards his to intensify the sensation. Then he allowed his pace to quicken.

He was passion lit on fire. He made Emma feel things she hadn't realized possible. And when they climaxed, they did so together, clasping the other tightly as if they might disappear when they fell over the edge.

When they had finished, they lay there, completely spent. They were lying tangled in each other, and Emma wished she could stay with him like this forever. After a few minutes, the Hunter leaned over and kissed her before standing up. He re-covered her with the blanket, and again pressed a soft kiss to her hand. And then he left.

Emma knew the rules, but she couldn't help but wonder if that connection she had felt with the Hunter had been a signal of true love. She wasn't sure how, but she knew she had to find her mysterious dark lover with a missing left hand.

Killian entered his quarters, feeling more satisfied and whole than he had in ages. This Priestess had unknowingly brought him back to life. He knew he was supposed to forget her, but how could he? Her stormy grey eyes looking back at him with such wanting. The way her smooth skin felt beneath his fingers. The way her golden hair floated around her like waves of sunlight. Most of all, the way she held him as though she would never let him go. He had to find this girl.

His only clue was a small tattoo he had noticed on her wrist, a flower. The marking had stood out from the ceremonial paint that covered her body and he took note of any clue he could before leaving her. He was determined. He would find her.