by Nicole Fox
“Place your feet on my boots. Place your trust in me,” Keir whispered.
Tentatively, Tatum placed her silk-encased feet on her boots. Her hand raised to rest on his shoulder.
“Next step,” she whispered.
“You stare into my eyes, or you can rest you head on my shoulder, or burrow you head into my chest. Your choice, Tatum.”
Tatum attempted to tug her fingers free when a jolt of heat leaped between them. The connection frightened Tatum for a moment as she was unsure how to continue. Keir tightened his grip around her fingers, smiling gently to reassure her.
“Don’t be afraid.”
Tatum offered a sweet smile to her partner. His heart thumped when her head rose to meet his gaze. Her soft green silk gown swirled around her feet as Keir lead her to a large stone balcony with red roses tucked in the trellis and stone curves of the structure. Tatum was a bit unsure until a slow sweet melody began to sweep around them louder.
“Would you care to dance, Tatum?”
Keir lifted her hand to his soft lips, brushed small kisses across her knuckles. Flicking her hair out of her eyes, Tatum nodded. Slowly, Keir glided them around the surface. She stumbled a few times in his embrace, and he held her tighter.
“Just follow my lead. I won’t let go of you. Just keep your hand on my shoulder and feet on boots.”
Keir placed her hand on his shoulder. “Step back on my feet,” he ordered softly. Tatum looked at him unsurely.
‘I can’t do this. I’m not graceful,” she muttered sadly.
“You can do anything. Have faith in us together. Do it.”
Placing her silk slippers upon his feet, Keir started swaying around the stones; moonlight shone upon them as they twirled and swayed to the slow rhythm of the music, their eyes locked. Tatum relaxed her guard as her cheek pressed into Keir’s chest, listening to his strong heartbeat. She lost herself in her favorite fantasies of dancing with a charming handsome guy under the stars.
“See, I can be romantic… moonlight, scent of roses, and dancing.”
“Tomorrow, you’ll be back to your normal cranky self.”
“Even, cranky, I will take care of you.”
Chapter Nine
Tatum was a bit disappointed when Langston informed her that Keir would not attend her final test of intelligence. He would escort her to meet with Murale as she prepared to become a wife or mistress to Keir. Her lips trembled when Langston viewed her with pity, or maybe it was concern.
I don’t need pity. I just need to pass, putting this behind us. One final trial, I can do this. I don’t wilt under pressure.
Instead, she stiffened her spine and walked unhurriedly by Keir’s lackey to meet with his father. Her eyes searched long corridors and window bays for a hint of his silhouette. She couldn’t locate him anywhere.
“Afterwards, I’m to bring you to him, his orders regardless of the outcome. He needed time alone to reflect over the final test. You’re the only one ever to make it this far. You’re the only one to past the first test. I don’t count Maya, nobody does. She feared squirrels? You come from good stock, girlie.”
“I’ll tell my nana to check the family line. Something about country air, it keeps you from senseless drama.”
Langston laughed. “This life is full of drama and hurt feelings. It’s amazing that they are able to run the world without it burning under their need to be right.”
They paused in front of a wide oak door. Tatum grabbed Langston’s hand when he reached for the handle.
“I need a moment to think. Gather my thoughts… free my mind of chaos.”
Langston grinned, “He predicted that you would pause before entering to meet his father. He said to tell you that you need to have faith.”
My life changes when I enter that door. I won’t be a simple maiden. I could be his mistress or his wife. My life depends on one simple little test. I just really need to calm down.
“Open the door, Langston.”
The door flung open to reveal Murale sitting pensively at a wide wooden table, a simple box in the center. His head resting on his fold hands; eyes so like Keir’s stared at her in amusement mixed with annoyance.
“I don’t have patience, Tatum. I don’t like to wait.”
“Ah, Keir inherited his poor personality from you.”
Murale’s mouth twitched. “You have a bit of fire, and you use it for disrespect.”
“Just enough to keep you alert.”
Tatum bobbed her head in Langston’s direction to signal that she was ready to face her fate. The older man smiled encouragingly at her, bowing dramatically to Murale. The door clicked behind Langston as he departed for another part of the Temple.
“Do you know Langston was Keir and Silke’s nanny?”
“Your wife didn’t trust you with females?”
“No, she believed, and was correct, that I would be a poor father. I did everything in my power to ensure that it would a self-fulfilling prophecy. I never broke my marriage vows. My wife was pure… the essence of light. Unlike my daughter, who…. Forgive me. I ramble.”
“Silke is a wonderful person.”
“She’s flawed like her brother and uncle. I thought she inherited more of her mother’s qualities.”
“Maybe you just need to allow your pain to be recognized. Mere mortals are flawed, but we can forgive,” Tatum replied as she flopped down in a comfy chair.
“You’re not a mere mortal. You have my son in an uproar.”
“I’ve done nothing to your son except be myself. You should go fishing with him or something to bond properly. Silke won’t go, much too messy.”
“My job is to keep the chaos in a constant state of fairness. A level-headed wise wife will enable Keir to reflect. Silke needed a husband to make her lighten up and enjoy life. She didn’t understand Blane’s place in her life, and she has failed me and her mother. The balance will be served, if you marry Keir. Are you ready to begin?”
“Can I say no?”
“It’s a little late for that.”
“So, why did you ask?”
“I have a few manners.”
“A very few.”
Tatum tapped her fingers impatiently across the smooth wooden table. She didn’t know how to read Keir, and his father fell into the same category. He seemed unwilling to give the final trial. His fingers caressed the box like a lover for a few moments. Keir was easier to deal with in secluded spots. Usually he made a snarky comment about her body or his dark eyes lingered along her legs or breasts. She learned he acted like a leech to distract people from his true nature. Murale sat pensively like a child waiting for a punishment or treat. She didn’t know what to think. Murale didn’t have any effect over her person except for respect. Keir’s haunting eyes made her skin tingle when he was close by. His words made her blood boil. She couldn’t wait to see him. In the middle of chaos, he touched her deeply with his cocky ways, and rather sweet ways. His father didn’t have anything redeeming about him.
Murale ’s lips curved in a small smile as he watched Tatum’s eyes assessing him. He was a bit in awe of the girl- no, young woman. He mistakenly had believed that she was like the other ninnies from previous years. She had a firm spirit, she played to win. She seemed immune to his son’s seductive charm. He didn’t know what to think of her. She could be the person to solve the problems of the realm and keep an eye on Silke’s behavior. After this nonsense, he would fix Silke’s missteps. He had learned that his daughter was not to be trusted. He would know with one simple little test.
Murale grinned. “My heart tingles with joy. My children are finally settled.” Murale’s eyes dissected Tatum’s soul with a brief glance. He stood with his arms crossed nodding, his white hair mingled with black. “You will be a perfect wife for Keir, providing balance for his darkness, my son’s personal little voice constantly harping at him.”
“I thought you already inspected me. You can’t scare me off. I like to win games. Losing is not enj
oyable.”
“It's how you lose that shows your character.”
“Nothing worse than a bad winner and loser.”
Murale frowned in dismay. “Do you have an answer for everything?”
Leaning her chair back, Tatum wondered why Murale toyed with her. “Just for cranky old men.”
“Goodness help me.”
He said nothing when he pushed an ornate wooden box next to Tatum. Murale’s fingers tapped the box. His violet eyes stared at Tatum as his lips curved in a deep smile.
“Beautiful girl, the test is rather simple. You have to open the box. The box of your fate, so close. Yet, so far away. A life of love with him as his wife. Or just his lover to fulfill his desire. What do you want?”
“I want you to be quiet so I can think.”
Tatum slouched in her chair. This must be a trick. I was almost spider food. Almost lost my soul to Keir. I relived the worst part of my childhood. Just to open a box.
Melodious laughter filled the air. “This not a simple box, my dear. It doesn’t have a latch and hook. You must be able to read it with your fingertips.”
Tatum rolled her eyes. She was tired of this damn family. Sighing, she grabbed the box from the table. She ignored the pensive look in Murale’s eyes. She tapped a finger on the side of the brown box.
It’s hollow. Tatum shook the box gently. Something is inside. She listened to an object sliding inside the box as she sat twisting it in her small hand.
“Open it,” Murale roared impatiently. “It’s not a shaker.”
“Patience is a virtue, milord," Tatum admonished.
“I have no virtues.”
Tatum arched an eyebrow. “Patiently, you can wait. Perhaps, learn a few virtues.”
“I don’t have an eternity to wait for you.”
“You and Keir use the small lines.”
Tatum closed her eyes as hot images of being in Keir's arms flooded her mind. Shaking her head, Tatum looked over the box to judge the design.
Her eyebrows knitted together when her fingers found an uneven side on the back. She smiled triumphantly as she pushed the back of the box open.
“It’s the opposite, Lord Murale. The back is really the front,” she gushed proudly. She gave the box a slight shake. She was dying to know what was inside. A simple platinum ring landed on the table.
Her eyes widened in dismay.
Murale snatched the ring into his hand. The platinum ring glittered in the sunlight as he held it above her head.
“In one week, Keir will place this ring on your finger, making you my daughter. The light to Keir’s darkness.”
“A regular joining of oil and water.”
~~~
"Langston, where is Keir? I need to speak with him.”
Langston fiddled with his hands as she waited for an answer.
“So, are we doing this next year?”
“Prepare a wedding feast. I’m sure Murale will start bellowing for you soon.”
“Either in his study or in his training room in the bottom of the Temple. “Langston drug Tatum down a back hallway. “Take the back stairs, don’t let anyone see you until after you tell him. He’s worried that you wouldn’t pass, that Murale would say something to cause you to fail. If he's not in his study, go to the kitchen and find a white door. Place your hand on the door and it will open for you."
"Thank you, for your kindness."
“Keir needs your kindness to make his way in the world. He needs a bit of happiness in his life. This temple is his cage.”
“It needs to be opened. We will see you later.”
Tatum rushed along the doorway. Occasionally, she would skip and smile to herself.
I did it. I’m going to be his wife.
As she approached a gleaming white door, Tatum felt blinding pain aching through her head. Just pure white hot rage. Something pulled her towards Keir, whether she wanted to go or not.
Tatum's head throbbed as she stumbled down a flight of stairs; blindly she clutched the old wooden railing. Gingerly, she placed her foot on the creaking step, a candle flickering in the distance as she descended further into its darkness. Her hands felt the hard wall as her feet touched the ground. Nervously, she took a step forwarded. She hated the darkness, but she could not help herself. Something, or someone, kept on calling her; she could not deny the urge.
His eyes narrowed when he heard the old steps creaking under someone's weight. It must be one of the guest or intruders disturbing his peace. The sound of metal clanking vibrated around the old cellar when his sword hits the ground. The session so far had not alleviated any of his frustration over waiting for the results of Tatum’s final trial. His callused hand wiped damp hair from his brow. He moved in the direction of the stairs, blowing fires from candles.
Tatum swallowed a scream when the hallway faded to uttered darkness. Fear spread throughout her petite frame. She gasped when a strong arm encircled her waist lifting her slightly from the floor.
"Why are you down here?" a deep voice demanded gruffly, "You aren't allowed in here. I forbade it to all."
Tatum licked her lips, "I don't know… I felt anger, your anger throbbing in my mind. All that I could think of was you… it beckoned me to come, to seek you out. I don't understand why…"
Keir sat her on the floor. He spun her around in his embrace, "Are you in pain?"
The intense pain faded when his arms encircled her waist. Tatum shook her head: "It's gone." She didn't understand the new feeling that replaced it. Keir was much too close now... Something, new… soft… hot and uncomfortable had replaced his anger, she felt it deep within her.
Keir's gaze made her skin hot. Tatum pulled her eyes from his sapphire gaze. Keir smiled as he felt her tremble when his hands cupped her chin. His large hand nudged her chin until her eyes rose to meet his eyes.
"Don't be afraid of me."
"I feel a bit faint." Tatum was desperate to escape his embrace. Keir dropped his arms when he sensed her hesitation. He grabbed her hand and led her into his cave. He flicked the lights back on as he pulled her towards a large black leather lounger. Tatum noticed a red and brown rug decorated with a zigzag pattern covering shiny hard wood floors. A man-made cloth was suspended in the corner from a chain in a ceiling. A silver sword lay discarded in a corner. Another sword hung above the mantle, gleaming like a collection of stars. It screamed forbidden.
"Is this your hiding spot?"
Keir smiled as Tatum stepped back from him. His fingers tightened on her hand. “This was Langston’s training room when we were children. He was a warrior before Mother made him a better offer.”
“Langston?”
“Oh, yes, he fought in the great wars. He met my mother, and he showed her great loyalty. She entrusted him with our care. He would bring us down here and train us in combat. We needed to know how to defend ourselves."
Tatum shook her head, "He's a darling man. He loves you."
Keir placed Tatum on the settee. Tatum's eyes darted around the room staring at things. "Are you hungry?" She shook her head quickly.
"Tatum, so should I ask?"
"Wife."
“Thank you."
"Why?"
"No reason, dear."
Tatum swatted his hand. She jumped back when he grabbed her fingers. "Dear is my grandmother."
Keir bit his tongue. He had never asked about her remaining family. He had so much to learn about her. He needed to locate her village and find the rest of her family.
"We need to talk."
"About? I-"
Thoughts rushed through Keir. She doesn’t want to be my wife. I tried, and I was open, and I still don’t get the girl. He pushed aside other thoughts that sprang to mind, thoughts of Tatum wanting to flee him. Spending his life alone in the Temple with Baby and Langston. Baby could cocoon him after feeding off his dead mummified body.
“Could you cancel the pity party in your mind? We did it, I’m yours… almost.”
Tatum w
inced when another flash of pain erupted in her mind.
"I don't understand; I should be jumping for you. Instead, a burning throbbing pain is in my mind. I'm not afraid of you," Tatum admitted, "I felt your anger…I wanted to be with you. I don't know why. I wanted to make you feel better."
Keir ushered Tatum into his comforting embrace. His large hands massaged her tense back. “I thought things would be easier for us, not painful.”
Tatum realized Keir's forearms were damp with perspiration from his workout. His dark hair clung to his head. A sprinkle of chest hair rubbed against her arms as he cradled her. His lips sought her forehead as he rained kisses on her brow. The pain in her head started to subside. She snuggled deeper in his embrace as her mind began to relax. Tatum sucked her lower lip into her mouth; Keir smiled brilliantly as her fingers traced his collarbone. Tatum wondered what would happen if she kissed his collarbone.
Silly, you know what would happen if you kiss him anywhere.
"Can you put a tunic on?"
Keir grinned. "I'll be right back.” Tatum watched him grab a large cloth, and briskly rub his powerful limbs as he strutted into a back corner. Tatum waited patiently as a wardrobe opened. She could hear him rummaging for an article of clothing. He walked back into her view. Tatum played with her fingers; the muscles rippled in his back as he pulled a white shirt over his head.
"Better?”
'Yes," Tatum lied. No, it wasn't better. She wanted to touch him. I am a whore. I have dreamt about him doing naughty things to me. Now, I don’t want to wait until my wedding night. Just want him to yank that tunic from his hard body, taking me on the floor. What has gotten into me? I barely know Keir. In some ways, I know everything about him. The more that I know makes me want him even more. I want him to touch me all over my body.
"You're not a whore. Don't ever think that."
"What?" Tatum blinked rapidly. “I need to get some mind reading powers to jump into your mind.”
"Be careful when you make wishes. You might get something that you don’t want in the end."
