by Nashoda Rose
It was the beginning of my destruction.
Four weeks later
“BABE, SERIOUSLY?”
I strolled out of the washroom wearing the pink sundress I’d purchased in town. It clung to my curves. Curves I now had and loved when I looked in the mirror. Curves Kilter definitely loved, which made me love them even more.
I twirled. The dress flared out at the hem mid-thigh. “You like it?” I knew he did by the look in his eyes. That smoldering look that was often accompanied with a growl or groan.
“No way. You’re not wearing that.”
I laughed. He’d said that about my bikini when we arrived on the island. It seemed Kilter had issues with me being scantily clothed, and I was learning to embrace it. Of course, he was being irrational. We were on vacation on an island that was sunny, hot, and required less clothing.
Kilter had been relentless in his pursuit of finding two cottages within walking distance of one another. He’d finally managed it in the Turks and Caicos, and we’d been here for a month now.
Delara arrived two weeks ago and stayed in a cottage down the beach from us. She didn’t say where she’d been as she’d left Toronto the same day we did. Nor did she talk about what happened with Waleron, but I knew it wasn’t good, because anytime his name came up, she avoided the subject. If he called, which he did often, and Delara was with me, she moved away.
“Is it the pink?” I looked down at my dress to hide my smile. It wasn’t the pink. “I thought you like pink, hon.”
He snorted. “Don’t like fuckin’ pink. Told you that.”
I cocked my hip, hands on them. “Not true. You said you liked me in pink.” He so did, and that’s why I bought the dress today when I saw it in the window. Well, one of the reasons. The other was for the exact look in his eyes right now—heated.
“Pink panties. And I was taking them off you.”
“Tore.”
“Babe?”
“You weren’t taking them off me. You tore them off me.” He stood at the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the beach and ocean. A breeze from the open sliding glass doors ruffled his hair and the white dress shirt he wore.
He looked hot in a dress shirt and jeans. Cuffs undone and sleeves rolled loosely and uneven. The top two buttons were also undone and the shirt wasn’t tucked, but hung casually over the waist of his jeans. His leather belt peeked out from the bottom slit at the center of the shirt.
“You done?”
My eyes darted back up to his. I’d been admiring him and he noticed. Unfortunately, he wasn’t appreciating the attention. “I’ll never be done.”
He grunted. “Babe, you have to get where I’m coming from.”
I did.
He stalked toward me and that familiar tweak hit my stomach. He did it for me. Totally. And completely.
He was in bare feet and walked soundlessly on the hardwood floors. There was a bit of sand on the bridge of his feet. He’d been out on the beach while I showered and got ready.
He didn’t stop until he was directly in front of me. He cupped the back of my neck and shivers trickled across my skin. “You look stunning. And, yeah, hate pink, except when you’re in it.” His fingers tightened, bunching my hair in his hand. “I want to tear this pink off you, too. So, sitting and having dinner with your dad, my fuckin’ Taldeburu who hates me, while I can think of nothing else but tearing that dress off you… not going to work for me.”
“He doesn’t hate you.” His brows lifted. “Much,” I added then slid my hands up his chest. “Control and patience, hon. You can tear it off after dinner.”
“Don’t have either of those.”
I may have changed a lot, but Kilter was still Kilter. Impatient and his control questionable, probably a reason Waleron wasn’t pleased about us being here together. And tonight was going to be his ultimate test of control, not because of the dress—okay, maybe a little would be the dress—but mostly because of Waleron.
He took my left hand, lifted it, and then slid my ring finger into his mouth right up to the diamond ring he’d given me two weeks after we arrived here. It had been a simple proposal. Who was I kidding? It hadn’t been a proposal. It was more of a ‘You’re going to marry me.’
I’d been in the bathroom brushing my teeth first thing in the morning. He came up behind me and placed the ring on the counter. There was no box, no ribbon, no nothing—simple and to the point. Then he put his hands on my hips and leaned in to me.
He kissed the side of my neck while I still had a mouthful of toothpaste and stared, shocked at the gleaming, gorgeous ring in front of me. Then he told me I was going to marry him on the beach in ten minutes and to hurry up.
I choked on the toothpaste, swallowed half of it, and managed to spit out the rest. I stared at him through the reflection in the mirror. He was already watching me. No smile. Not even a twitch. His brows were low and his fingers squeezed my hips before he turned me around, picked me up, and placed me on the counter.
I still hadn’t said anything because I was shocked.
He reached around me, picked up the ring, took my hand, and slipped it on my finger.
My eyes went from his face to the ring and back to his face. “Can I say yes first?”
He shrugged. “Sure. You can say whatever you want. But we’re getting married in nine minutes.”
It took me another minute before I threw my arms around him, shock shifting to joy. Then we got married on the beach with Delara next to me. I found out later that Kilter had told her about it the day before. I was guessing he was leaving no room for anyone to thwart his plan.
And why Waleron wasn’t told. Finding out we were married, maited as the Scars called it, two weeks ago had a good chance of not going down very well tonight.
My finger slipped from his mouth and his eyes smoldered with that panty-melting, stomach-whooshing look. “You know, he might be happy that we aren’t living in sin anymore. He seems a little old-school.”
“Babe, he’s an Ancient. One of the first Scars. His mother was the first. He’s definitely old-school. Doesn’t mean he’ll like it any better.”
The warm saltwater breeze sifted across my bare arms and goose bumps rose. Kilter noticed. He always noticed things when it came to me, and I liked that. I’d never had anyone who looked out for me like that. He didn’t do it to get anything out of it; he did it because he cared. He ran his hands up and down my arms then bent and kissed my bare shoulder.
Waleron had yet to speak to Kilter after the Liam and Jasmine thing. I didn’t think he was exactly angry with Kilter for anything in particular, but Waleron liked control. He liked order. He followed the laws. Kilter wasn’t big on any of those things.
His finger slipped underneath the spaghetti strap of my pink dress. “Why don’t I take this off you now, have my way with you, and then you put on something else.” The strap slipped off my shoulder as he turned his attention to the other one.
“He’ll be here in an hour.”
“Cooking’s done, babe.” He pushed off the other strap.
The cottage still had the lingering aroma of the spicy pasta sauce he’d made earlier this afternoon. It was delicious, and I’d dipped my finger in it numerous times, to which he’d scowled. When I’d moved on to dipping a piece of bread into it, he’d picked me up off the counter, threw me over his shoulder, and carried me out the sliding glass doors, down the path to the beach.
I flailed and screamed and giggled. The giggling stopped when he walked into the ocean and tossed me off his shoulder into the water.
There was no more dipping into his sauce.
Kilter had been teaching me to cook. Well, he was trying. I discovered I was better watching him and being a taste tester than cooking. And he loved me sitting on the counter while he cooked as long as I didn’t dip too much. I loved when he got that smoldering look in his eyes and stalked toward me. It happened often while he was cooking.
That smoldering look was happening now. So was th
at smug grin. I loved the smug grin, which had appeared more often since we’d been here.
He bent and kissed my shoulder, drizzling kisses across my collarbone to my other shoulder. I moaned, tilting my head back.
“Cancel,” he said
I drew back and his head lifted. “Cancel?”
“Yeah, babe.” With his hand on my lower back, he roughly yanked me in to the length of him.
“I can’t cancel.” Waleron had never been to the island; therefore, he was unable to Trace here, which meant he had to get on a plane and fly here. This was a big deal. “Are you scared to tell him?”
He threw back his head and laughed. The sound was deep and raspy, and I loved it more than his smug grin. When he finished laughing, he went back to undressing me while he spoke. “You need to get something about me, babe. Nothing scares me. Nothing except losing you. Don’t give a fuck if Waleron loses his shit when I tell him you’re my maite and we didn’t invite him to the wedding.” My dress slipped to the floor. “What I do give a fuck about is that you’re not hurt in the process of me telling him and he loses his shit.” Okay, totally melt-worthy. His hand at my lower back slid up and fiddled with the clasp of my bra. It, too, fell to the floor. “Want to cancel because my girl was wearing a hot pink dress and I want her to myself for the next five hours.”
“Five hours?” Tingles erupted.
He grinned. “We have pasta on the stove, so yeah, five hours.”
“How do you figure?”
“Carbs, babe.” His hands came under my ass and he picked me up. My legs wrapped around him as he carried me from the living room into the bedroom. Then he tossed me onto the white duvet and I bounced once before shuffling back.
“You realize he will be here soon.” He undid the buttons on his shirt. It parted and my gaze trailed down over his inked chest to his hard abdomen.
“He can wait.”
Oh. My. God. “Kilter, his flight lands any minute.” His jeans dropped and he stepped out of them. He moved closer to the bed and lowered his body, palms on either side of my head before the mattress sagged under his weight.
“And he’ll go see Delara first.”
Hmmm, he might be right about that. “Not sure if she’ll let him in, though.”
Kilter snorted. “Not a chance she’s letting him in. Won’t stop him.”
Again, true.
“Love you, baby, but can we stop talking about Waleron so I can fuck you.”
I laughed. Then I reached around, cupped the back of his neck, and pulled myself up to whisper in his ear. “Love you, too, Kilter.”
He groaned and I dropped back onto the mattress as his mouth slammed into mine.
Then he showed me how much he loved me.
I jerked, darting upright when I heard the footsteps outside on the deck before the sliding door opened.
Then Waleron’s voice called, “Ten minutes.” More footsteps and then nothing.
“Oh, my God.” I crashed back down onto the pillow, closing my eyes with a groan. “My dress. My bra. On the living room floor.”
“Yeah. So?” Kilter rolled, taking me with him so I straddled him. “He knows we fuck, babe.” Before I could respond, he dragged me down for another kiss and I melted into him.
When he was done kissing me, he sat up with me in his lap. Then he stood and I went with him. I slid down his body as he placed me on my feet. “Dress. I’ll go tell him.”
My eyes widened. “Now?”
He shrugged. “Babe, I told him you’re mine already. It’s now official in the eyes of the law, but it was official from the moment I told our Taldeburu that you’re mine. What he’ll be pissed about is he wasn’t told we were married on the beach weeks ago.” He cupped my chin, thumb stroking back and forth. “I take the fallout. You stay here. Get dressed. Open the wine.”
God, I loved this man. “Oh. Okay.” Wine. Shit.
He nodded and his hand dropped away as he moved to get dressed. I watched as he tugged on his jeans and his dress shirt. I’d never get used to this. This warmth inside me. The lightness. God, the freedom to love and be loved.
It was time. Not the optimal time, but I had no choice. It was either now or he’d know it the moment I refused the wine. I opened my thoughts and let him in.
Kilter stopped halfway to the door. His back stiffened. His entire body stiffened. Then he swung around and stalked toward me.
I bit my lip.
He reached me. “You serious? You’re pregnant?”
I nodded. “Not official yet, but I know. I’ve felt it for a couple days now.”
“You felt it?”
I smiled. “Reflector, hon.”
“Fuck. You felt it.”
He was quiet for a minute, brows lowered with a scowl. Then the scowl lifted and he said, “Told Waleron to come back in an hour.”
Oh, my God. You don’t tell Waleron to come back in an hour. “What?”
“Babe, you don’t give me news like that as I’m walking out the door. News like that means you’re screaming under my mouth.”
There was an eruption of twinges between my legs.
He put his hands on my hips and guided me backward until my thighs hit the mattress. I toppled over and he followed with his mouth.
Then he adoringly kissed every inch of my abdomen. I watched him, my hands in his hair, catching glimpses of his quiet smile. It was beautiful. He was beautiful. Kilter was my beautiful tyrant.
The End
Watch for “CREDO” (Scars of the Wraith, Book 3) Waleron and Delara’s story.
glossary of terms
Center World Other (CWO): For thousands of years, numerous organisms that survived the Ice Age remained hidden until a hundred years ago when they emerged to the Earth’s surface in the form of insects. Intelligent. Can inhabit a recently deceased human body, possessing them body and soul. Transformation occurs within seven days, depending on the species. Immune to Wraiths’ powers. Protected by heat and minerals from the Earth’s core.
Deaconry, the: Assembly comprised of four Wraiths, two Scars, and one witch. Decide laws and punishments for all who live under the Goddess Azzurra.
Deep Sleep (DS): A state of sleep which one can be contained for short periods.
Grits (CWO): Derived from the common cockroach. Odorless. Difficult to track. Able to heal within seconds. Means of destruction: decapitation.
Assumes the bodies of attractive males with a strong presence. Will lure women to bed with the intent of siphoning the air from their lungs to live longer in their human states.
Goddess Azzurra: Goddess of the realm. Created the Scars and Wraiths. Also is the Goddess of Witches.
Ink: A tattoo on a Scar that can be called to life.
Lilac (CWO): Lepidoptera order of insects. Assume the bodies of females. Known to be strikingly beautiful to lure their targets. Their skin emits a powdered substance that smells of lilacs. Able to trap prey in webbing. Victims are stored in cocoons which are later used as sustenance.
Long Necks (CWO): Derived from the common beetle. Known as followers. Have unusually long necks. Characterized by bad acne, substantial bulk, and foul odors compared to rotten garbage.
Maite: Husband or wife of a Scar.
Pests (CWO): Derived from the common mosquito. Spawn from swamp, or marsh-like areas near gravesites. Emit a buzzing only Sounders can detect. Possess excellent eyesight. Skin emits an itching agent.
Realm, the: An otherworldly dominion where the Wraiths reside and Deaconry convenes.
Rest: A coma-like state of mind a Scar is placed when punished. Length of rest determined by the Deaconry.
Scars: Immortal warriors with capabilities derived from the senses: Trackers, Sounders, Healers, Tasters, Visionaries, and the rare Reflectors.
Evolved in 1610 in Zugarramurdi, Spain, during the Spanish Inquisition. In order to combat the devastation of the masses, five witches swore fealty to the Goddess Azzurra. In exchange, she granted them immortality, unique abilities of th
e senses, and an Ink that could be called forth for protection.
Scar Healers: Females with the capability to heal other Scars and humans. In rare instances, capable of healing animals and other entities. Able to envision the injury and heal the wound from the inside out. Experiences the pain of the injury.
Scar Reflectors: Possess a strong empathy toward emotions. Can alter emotions of others. Characterized with stronger telepathic abilities.
Scar Sounders: Able to detect high frequencies from long distances.
Scar Tasters: Able to detect others’ emotion by a distinct change in molecules in the air which affects taste.
Scar Trackers: Possess the ability to track shed skin cells.
Scar Visionaries: Able to see through certain objects. Some are able to read in hyper-speed or burn through objects.
Sublymns: Children living in the Realm who have died horrible deaths on Earth.
Talde: Group of Scars, similar to a covenant.
Taldeburu: Leader of a Talde of Scars.
Tracing: Ability to teleport to a past location.
Wraiths: Four witches, who had been burned at the stake, were offered a reprieve by the Goddess Azzurra. Each spirit was resurrected as a Wraith with the power of one of the four elements—Earth, Water, Fire, and Air. Live in the Realm, but may walk the Earth for short periods of time.
message
For any who may relate to Rayne’s struggles.
There are many amazing professionals to help you. They’re caring, supportive, and everything is confidential. When you begin to get healthy, it will become clear. It’s a new beginning that pulls you from the darkness and into the light filled with hope and love.
A special thank you to Marilyn at “Eating Disorders Therapy” for all her assistance with this book.
The National Eating Disorder Information Centre. A wealth of information with links to places that can help all across the world. http://www.nedic.ca/
Toronto:
http://www.sheenasplace.org/
