He looked at me hungrily and grabbed my wrists, pulling me so close that his lips grazed mine. “Solara, please tell me when to stop, and I will. I swear, okay?” he breathed. I nodded and nibbled my lip as I pulled back to look over the masterpiece of a man in front of me. Standing, I turned my back toward him. “God, I’m sorry, Solara, this went too far. I’m so sorry,” he said, grabbing his forehead.
What? What is he talking about? Oh, he thinks I turned my back on him. Silly man!
“Wes,” my voice escaped in a low tone. “Wes?”
“I’m so sorry,” he muttered.
“Wes!” I snapped, to get his attention.
“What?” he said, his eyes reflecting pain and embarrassment.
“Unbutton my dress please.” I repressed a slight sultry smile. Sultry Solara has finally arrived.
“What?” he asks in a voice an octave too high, raising his brows high, his eyes widening.
“You heard me. Now, would you please be so kind as to unbutton my dress?” I said, raising one brow toward him as his mouth hung open in disbelief. He thought he’d pushed me too far too soon. In reality, maybe I pushed him too far, but I wasn’t ready to quit yet. I doubted I’d be brave enough to make love to him tonight, but I definitely wasn’t finished. After all, he was insanely hot, and we were married. He never said a word, just raised to his knees, and gently started to separate the delicate pearl buttons that began at my very lower back and continued down around the curve of my bottom.
I stood straight as an arrow, barely breathing, taking in the gentle way he honored my request. My mind drifted to Faric and Lil. I wondered if they were in a similar position. My stomach clenched. I hoped they weren’t. Fifteen buttons later, he finished. Wesley stood up behind me, and his broad hands rested on my hips, erasing my concerns with Lil and Faric. Hesitantly, he snaked his hands around my stomach and pulled my bare back to his chest. The heat of his skin scorched me and sent a rush of shivers down my spine. I never knew anything so hot could elicit such a chill.
He must have felt me shiver. Resting his chin on my shoulder, he whispered, “Is this okay?” I nodded, closed my eyes, and absorbed the feeling of his skin against mine, muscle meeting softness. I placed my hands over his and rubbed circles on the backs of his hand. He breathed heavy in my ear and then began to nibble it. The nibbles gave way to soft feathery kisses along my neck, leaving tingles of pure pleasure in their wake. A soft moan escaped from my mouth. He growled low in response and pulled me tighter against him.
I grabbed his hands that were still wrapped tightly around me, and his kisses on my skin heated and then seared me with their passion. It was so simple yet so erotic. Wes was the first guy I ever kissed. And that kiss was at the pub that night to get him home and out of Aria’s claws. But this was my first real unbridled passionate exchange, and it felt wonderfully sinful.
I tugged gently on the delicate white lace on one arm and then the other. I decided to step out of the beautiful gown for my husband. I shimmied my hips, and the lace gathered in a clump of material at my feet, still clad in the white satin heels.
Wes gathered my gown and delicately draped it over the bench. I stood in front of the dancing firelight in front of my husband, wearing only my white corset, panties, and heels, wondering what he thought of my body. I prayed that he wouldn’t agree with the horrible things that Aria had always teased me with—hips too wide, too curvy or fat, whichever adjective she felt like stabbing me with. Not ample enough bust, waist too thick.
It was easy for her to talk. She looked like a stick figure, sporting no womanly curves whatsoever, but she was tiny. I wasn’t large at all. I was tall, but very curvy, and I was showing these curves to a man, to my husband, to Wesley, for the first time in my life. He stood by the bench for a few minutes just staring at me. I shifted my feet and tried to cross my arms over my body and looked away from him in utter humiliation. He must be disgusted. He hasn’t said anything, just looks at me.
He slowly moved toward me. His gaze never left mine. The fire danced in the reflection of his emerald eyes and illuminated the contours of his perfect male form. He extended his hands to hold my hips again. I can’t look. Avoid eye contact. His jaw flexed, and his teeth were clenched. Is he angry at me? Maybe I’ve pushed for too much too fast. With one quick motion, he slinked one arm behind me and placed one strong hand on the back of my neck and pulled me into a kiss that could melt metal. Our tongues glided and mingled with one another in a hot moist embrace. I grabbed on to his biceps to steady myself. He tilted my head back and pushed my stomach forward with his other arm, arching my body backward slightly and began to burn kisses down my neck and shoulders and chest. He growled low as he desperately kissed my skin and returned to give my mouth more attention.
I pushed further into him, grabbing the ridges in his back and wrapping my fingers in his hair as we explored one another. His hands slid up my back and down my hips, pushing me into him in a most delicious way. I wanted to stay right here forever. If I died like this in Wesley’s arms, I would die a happy woman.
Suddenly, the front door flew open, reverberating off of the stone behind it. “What the—” Wes jumped in front of me and backed me toward the bench. I grabbed my dress and held it over me with my arms. My heart thundered. I thought the worst. It must be Altair. He is keeping his promise. I shook at the thought of his icy hands and cold eyes. A familiar face emerged from the shadows from outside the doorway. The firelight finally revealed Faric’s stern features. His eyes widened at the sight of us—Wes shirtless and me holding up my dress in an effort to conceal my body, our hair disheveled, lips swollen. Then his expression suddenly changed, sharpened even. His eyes tightened, he flexed the fingers held out to his side.
“Faric,” Wes sternly addressed our guest, shattering the awkward tension in the air. “Can we help you?”
Glaring at both of us, Faric slammed the door behind him and stalked into the kitchen, lighting the candles and rear fireplace.
He dropped a tan cloth bag on the table and began removing its contents—wine, a glass, tiny vials. Wait, tiny vials? Wes stood in front of me and shrugged his shirt back on shielding me as I stepped back into my dress. He hurried to close enough buttons on my dress to hold it together so as not to give Faric a look at my derriere. Wes grabbed my hand and led me to the table, tucking me behind him. A human shield. Faric opened the wine bottle and poured the wine into a glass. Why was there just one glass? I shot Wes a ‘what the heck is he doing’ look. He shrugged his shoulders.
“Faric?” I asked as softly as possible. He ignored me and opened the tiny glass vile. He poured the clear liquid into the crimson wine and swished the libation around in the glass, making a whirlpool of sorts. I decided to try again. “Faric?” I asked louder and more forcefully. He looked up at me and growled, “What?”
“What are you doing here, and what is that stuff?” I crossed my arms in front of my chest.
“Solara, did you have a conversation with Annette this morning?” He looked at me as if I should know what he was talking about. “Didn’t she tell you to trust me?” I nodded in response. “I have to get you out of here. By this time tomorrow, they’ll know.”
Wes stepped forward, broad shoulders flared out. “What do you mean get her out of here, and who will know what?”
Faric stepped forward to meet him and pointed his finger toward me. “She is the chosen. She must be protected. She will receive the mark tomorrow, and after that, it’ll be impossible to conceal her identity from the council any longer. I need to get her to safety, and if you love her, you’ll let me take her away from here—let me keep her safe.”
I put my hands out. “Wait. I’m not the chosen. They checked my back. I have no mark. That was the whole point in the ceremony today.” Why on earth would he think I was the chosen? Then my mind traveled to a darker question. Was Lil all right? Had he lost his mind and killed her or something? “Faric, where’s Lil?” I asked, giving him a sideways glance and s
tepping softly forward to grab Wes’s arm.
“She’s asleep. She was tired and went to bed. No, Solara, I didn’t hurt her. She really is asleep, and you really are the chosen. You haven’t received your mark because when I came to work here, Annette, her husband, and I managed to move the calendar forward one day. By midnight tomorrow, you will receive your mark, and you will be in danger. The council members don’t have the best interests of humanity in mind. Nor do they care about you. They will wield you like a weapon against their enemies or kill you trying to do so.”
My mouth gaped open. Is he serious? Maybe he’s crazier than Altair. But Miss Annette did say to trust him. He glanced at me and said, “Look, do you know why Annette’s been making the special tea for you?”
“The healer sent it to her to help me calm down after the incident with Altair,” I said warily. How did he know about the tea?
“The healer had nothing to do with it. Annette received a vision in which an angel appeared to her. He gave her the list of herbs and their exact quantities needed to slow down the change that has occurred in your eye color. It would be difficult for people to ignore, and the council would have thrown you in the dungeon out of suspicion alone.”
“My eyes are blue. They’ve always been blue. What are you talking about?” I growl in frustration.
“Wes, get a mirror,” he ordered, and Wes slipped into the room with the basin and came back with a small hand-held mirror with a smooth silver handle. I grabbed the mirror and dash over to one of the candles to get more light and inspected my irises. They were no longer blue. They were...purple. What the heck? I clasped my hand over my mouth and handed the mirror back to Wes. He pulled me close in the light and blinked, taken aback as well.
Wes pulled me into him by my shoulders and said, “Solara, he may be right.”
“What? No. Just because my eyes are different doesn’t make me the chosen,” I argued, trying to slip out of Wes’s grip. He didn’t let go.
“It might mean just that, Lara. Do you remember the prophecy? From class?” He looked at me hopefully lifting his brows. Crap. I should have paid more attention. I shook my head. He continued,
“It says that she will have eyes bathed in royalty.”
“What? What is that supposed to mean? My eyes aren’t royal. I’m not royalty. I am just a normal girl. You’re wrong. You’re both wrong. This is ridiculous.” I stalked over to the bench and sat down on its evergreen cushions, crossing my legs and arms in protest, gazing into the fire as it disintegrates the wood into embers and ash.
and Wes spoke in the kitchen. Faric told Wes he has a way to smuggle me from the kingdom without detection by hiding me in the trader’s horse and wagon covered with goods.
He said that the guards will allow him to pass without question as they fear the trader—the trader engages in business with the council, and the guards would not dare defy them. The plan will be to get me into the forest and into hiding, avoiding the other kingdoms and the outcasts. What are the outcasts? How many other kingdoms are there? Are they nearby? Where would we go, and how long would I have to be gone? What about Wes? Lil? Rachel? Annette? Am I the chosen?
Faric explained that the angel told Annette that Wesley would have to drink the substance he poured into the wine. It would not harm him but would place him in a deep sleep. It would buy more time for the chosen to travel to safety. Lil and Wes would stay in the village, keeping up the appearances that someone was home. The fires would stay lit, candles would shine at night. From the outside, villagers would assume that the newlyweds were simply enjoying their privacy.
I sat and listened numbly as Faric explained that Annette noticed my eyes change color the night she tended to me after Altair attacked me on the balcony. I remembered her looking at me strangely and then shrugging it off. She must have seen it then.
Wes then agreed to drink the serum to give him the chance to get me to safety, but that he wanted to rendezvous with us after he woke up. Faric agreed with his terms and both turned toward me to discern how best to talk me into compliance. I stopped them in their tracks with something very unexpected.
“I’ll go,” I ground out. “But I want you to promise to return me once we see that I am, indeed, not the chosen. You will then return me to Wesley.”
They both agreed to my stipulation. Should we not return in three days, it would mean that I did receive the mark, and we would wait for Wesley on the desert border at the second well. Wherever that is. Wesley moved toward me and grabbed my waist, pulling me closer. “Lara, I know you don’t want to go, but above all things, I want you safe,” he softly admitted. “If he’s wrong, you’ll come home, and if he’s right, I will come for you. Do you understand? I will come for you, I swear it.” I nodded nervously, clutching his gaze for dear life.
“Go get ready,” Faric ordered. Annoyed when I don’t immediately respond, he snapped, “Go. Get. Ready. Solara.”
“My. Clothes. Are. All. In. The. Fortress. They. Will. Be. Delivered. Tomorrow. Do you want to wait until then?” I shot back, clenching my teeth. The one thing I won’t be doing is taking orders from him during this entire fiasco. Ugh. It’s going to be a long couple of days.
“Can you wear something of his?” he asks, pointing at Wes. I laughed. Was he kidding? Wes was huge and tall and muscular. I was none of that. There was no way his clothes would fit me.
“Fine, finish buttoning her up and down the drink already. We’re wasting time.”
Wes stabbed him with his emerald daggers and turned me around to complete the buttoning job he’d only partially completed after we were so rudely interrupted—on our wedding night.
Faric grabbed a large, very sharp looking knife from the kitchen table and stalked over toward us. I tucked myself farther behind my wall of a husband. “Turn around. Now,” he said sternly.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Solara. Please turn around,” he tried again, more softly. I complied with his softer request. He grabbed my hair in his fist, and with one jerk had cut more than half of my hair off. I gasped, and turned around, my mouth opened as wide as my eyes. Seeing the long tresses that he still clenched, I screamed, “What? Why? Why did you cut my hair?”
“You need to blend if you want to get out of here alive. I need to get you some plain clothes, but this is a start.” I felt numb and tried to reach back to feel my hair, my security. It was gone. Faric motioned at Wes. “You need to lie down before drinking the mixture. Its effects take hold quickly.”
Wes grabbed my hand and led me to the bedroom, pulled back the deep brown quilt and climbed in. I covered him with the quilt, bent down, and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “I will come for you.”
I nodded. “I know you will.” Don’t cry. Don’t cry. You barely know him.
“I swear it, Solara.”
I nodded again, and a warm tear fell from my cheek onto the blanket below, expanding into a small deep brown circle. “Hey,” he said, brushing away my tears. “It’s going to be all right. Faric will get you to safety, and I’ll meet you at the second well in a few days if you aren’t back. I promise. I will come for you.” He nodded exaggeratedly with his head. All the while his eyes pleaded with me to stop crying, and I believed him. He will find me.
I nodded quickly and bent down to kiss him again and then stood, wiping my tear-streaked face. He looked at me, raised the glass to his lips, and quickly drank the crimson poison, holding my hand until it fell limp with his deep sleep. It really had worked fast. The only comfort I had left was the deep, calm rise and fall of his chest in sleep. I prayed it would be peaceful.
I stood over Wes and closed my eyes, offering a silent prayer to plead for his life and for our quick reunion. Faric fidgeted with his fingers, rubbed his palms on his trousers, and bounced from foot to foot as he waited for me. He’d waited as long as his patience allowed. “We really need to go.”
I didn’t want to leave with him at all. I wanted to stay with Wes. I had no mother, no father, no siblings and no
extended family. I had friends, but they had also just gotten married. I had no one. No one but Wes—my husband. I felt horrible leaving him lying there alone on our wedding night, of all nights, while
I ran off with Faric based upon some weird dream and change in my eye color. I told myself to calm down. I would simply leave, and when no magic mark appeared on my back by midnight tomorrow, I would be free to return before Wes even woke up.
I followed Faric out the back door nearest the kitchen, across the grass lawn, over a small creek and into the woods. The sound of cicadas rang out through the still night. Down a small pathway that wound like a serpent through trees and undergrowth, I could see a small light twinkle in the distance. I followed Faric, trying to keep up with him despite my shoes and gown. Unfortunately, he’d been right about them not being ideal for travel, although I would never admit it to him. I could just imagine the smirk on his face and the “I told you so” smile in his teal gaze.
The light was a candle in a glass lantern hanging from a rickety wooden wagon. Faric stepped out in front and untied a beautiful chocolate-colored stallion. The glassy eyes and shiny mane shone in the moonlight as she whined hello. Faric took an apple from the wagon and held it up, a treat that the mighty horse obviously enjoyed. He pulled me around to the back and untied the dark brown fabric that stretched over its side and roof. After climbing up, he reached his hand out to me and helped me maneuver in as gracefully as I could despite the lace restricting my movements.
I was suddenly very conscious of the deep plunge of the dress’s back and blushed at the thought that Faric had seen me with Wes earlier in the evening. I offered a silent prayer that he hadn’t seen more than he or I had bargained for.
“I need you to lie on your side as close to the side shelves as you can,” he said, clearing some wooden crates and clay and glass containers from the area. I complied without saying a word, still sort of angry that he’d ruined my wedding night. “I have to cover you up and pile this stuff in front of you. We should be able to slip out without any problem from the guards at the wall. They should be good and drunk by now with all the booze I gave them earlier.” He smiled.
Pariah (The New Covenant Series) Page 10
