“Besides, you seemed happy with Wesley, and I thought that by being with Lillian, I could at least see you once in a while.” I gasped. He said, “Look, forget I said anything. Wear what you want. But we should get going soon.” He turned and walked back toward the wagon.
I stood still and watched him retreat into the woods as I tried to wrap my mind around what he’d just said. Faric had applied for my hand. He wanted to marry me. He didn’t apply for Lillian’s but was paired with her. This made no sense. Then it dawned on me the reason for his distance. I remembered his face when he walked in and found me with Wes, sans my dress. I heard his voice call for me, “You coming or what?” I’ve heard of people getting butterflies in their stomachs, but I was certain that mine contained hawks, a flock of angry ones or maybe love-crazed-ready-to-mate ones.
“Yeah,” I yelled back, starting in his direction, rolling the wide itchy sleeves above my elbows as I walked. I stopped at the stream for a last gulp of water and then hopped in the rear of the wagon. Reigns in his hands, I jumped in, and we started toward our destination, which I prayed was the second well. I just wanted this over with. I didn’t take my seat on the crates. I needed some distance, so I arranged for some space toward the rear of the wagon and tied the fabric back so that I could see out into the forest.
The canopy, ominous and thick, pressed down on us from above. The undergrowth pushed up from beneath. Though the afternoon sun shone brightly, I couldn’t help but feel as though we were being watched by the shadows. They seemed alive, something writhing in their darkness. I gulped. If it felt dark in the forest in the midday sun, it would certainly overwhelm tonight. The only light would be provided by candles, campfire, and the first full moon of the summer season. As we traveled deeper into the dense wood, the shaking of the wagon lulled me to sleep once more, my head propped up with a blanket.
I combed the forest floor for kindling of dried dead wood and leaves. Night had almost swallowed the earth, only leaving a hazy deep blue in the western horizon. I could hear Faric breaking dead limbs off a fallen tree nearby, but I couldn’t see him. Being in the forest without fire was like being in a cave with no light source. I took all that I’d scavenged to the rear of the wagon and waited for Faric as the stars began to flicker delicately in the clear night sky. It had gotten quite chilly, and I became fast friends with the sweater I had loathed in the overwhelming heat of the day.
Soon, the fire was blazing, its flames licking and tasting the wood we had procured for it. We feasted on remnants that Faric had taken from the wedding feast in preparation for our journey.
The fruits—apples, oranges, and berries—were sweet and ripe to perfection. The rolls were still soft and moist. We had barely spoken since our awkward exchange this afternoon. I hated it. I liked him and didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable around me, and as he was Lil’s husband. We needed to get along since Lil and I would always be friends.
“Faric, how did you smuggle this food from the banquet?” I smiled up at him, taking a bite from a succulent strawberry. I felt a drip run out of the corner of my mouth. Before I could reach for it, Faric brushed his thumb over my skin, wiping the juice from my skin. His eyes met mine, and I was amazed at how the fire reflected in the unique color of his eyes like fire meeting water, undeniably attracted to its adversary.
He smiled and said, “Would you believe that I stuffed my pockets?”
“No. I didn’t see anything strange about your pockets.”
“Solara, I’m a married man.” He smirked. “You shouldn’t go around looking in the region of my pockets in such a vulgar manner.” His face screwed in mock disgust. Raising my brows in surprise, I giggled when no sarcastic response came to mind. I just smiled and shook my head at him.
“Thanks for the sweater by the way. It’s been handy tonight.”
“Please keep it on or else—” He stopped short.
“Or else what?” I goaded, raising a brow.
“Or else I’ll have to stare at your fine back side, Miss Solara,” he said, never blinking but looking satisfied at the blush he’d coaxed from my cheeks.
“Perhaps you should be bringing Lillian’s fine back side to forefront of your mind, sir.” I quipped, satisfied with myself for drawing his attention back to his wife.
“With all due respect,” he said, taking a bite out of a bright green apple, “Lillian’s back side is fine. But it’s not positioned in front of me at the moment.” He sipped from a small silver flask that I hadn’t noticed before.
“What’s that?” I nodded toward the flask that he failed to hide. “Are you drunk? No wonder we’re discussing back sides.”
“I am not drunk. Yet. And my drinking has nothing to do with my appreciation of Lillian’s or your back side.” He smiled lazily and reached the flask toward me. The cool liquid blazed a fire down to my belly, and I gasped and coughed. Faric laughed heartily and so did I, but I took another large gulp before handing it back to him.
“That is some terrible-tasting stuff.” I laughed. I sat on my knees and was trying to reach an orange but couldn’t reach it. He was tipping his flask back again, not paying attention. So I didn’t interrupt him. I scooted over next to him, grabbed the orange, and lifted it to my nose. I closed my eyes and let the sweet smell invade my senses. When I tried to move back to my seat, Faric grabbed me by my waist and jerked me down beside him and laughed. I laughed too and swatted his hands away and tried to move over again. He held me by my waist and laughed, refusing to let me go.
I grabbed his flask from him. “That’s enough for you, big guy.” I smiled and took a drink but didn’t cough this time. My belly felt warm. I kept sipping periodically. Faric talked about how he liked to draw and wanted a dog and how his favorite color was green, and he had no idea how to cook. I giggled as the warmth of the liquor eased my worries and inhibitions. An hour later, he had stopped giggling so much, which I found hilarious, and took the flask from me in a moment of intervention. “You’re going to feel like crap tomorrow if you don’t stop now,” he warned.
I made my saddest pouty face when he took it from me and then broke into a fit of giggles. I’d never felt like this before. All was right in the world. I didn’t have to worry about the stupid tower or their stupid rules or Aria’s stupid mouth. I didn’t have to worry about being a wife or cooking, which I had no idea how to do, what stupid job I would be assigned to, or any stupid thing
I decided. In a moment of fuzzy joy, I grabbed a strawberry and leered naughtily at Faric. “What?” he said, unease filling his face.
“I wanna feed you this strawberry. Okay?” I slightly slurred and then giggled.
“I think you probably should go lie down, lightweight,” he teased.
“No. I’m fine. I just wanna feed this strawberry to you. Please?”
I begged. I got on my knees and inched closer to him, holding the strawberry by its green leaves and stem.
“If I let you feed one to me, will you then go lie down?” he asked.
“I’ll think about it,” I squinted back at him.
He blew out an exasperated breath and then said, “Fine.” He held his head to the side defiantly and clenched his teeth. I inched closer to him on my knees, my lace dress, dragging on the ground behind me. I lost my balance trying to get closer and almost fell into him. He caught me before I fell, and I righted myself and focused on the task at hand. I tried very hard to concentrate on his mouth, my vision blurring slightly.
The strawberry looked amazing next to his full lips, the shade of sinful perfection. I eased it toward his mouth and opened my own, encouraging him to unclench his teeth. I opened mine wider to try to get him to do the same. He refused. “Come on. You said I could,” I smiled. His lips parted, and I giggled. I inched the strawberry closer and moved closer myself to get a better view.
I raked my bottom lip across my upper teeth in anticipation and smiled. His eyes locked onto mine. When I touched his bottom lip with the red temptation, he flinched and too
k a shallow breath in. Hmmm. He likes this. I dragged the succulent berry across the length of his lower lip and smiled as he fidgeted. “Shhh. Stay still,” I whispered, my eyes transfixed on the berry, his lips, and his body’s reaction from the combination. I dragged the berry across his top lip, and he closed his eyes and breathed in.
“Hurry up. Let’s get this over with,” he said, squirming away from me.
“Shhhh. This is neat,” I said in awe. “Hey, calm down and let me play, and I’ll let you feed me one, too.” His eyebrows raised, and he took a deep breath in and settled down. I smiled, inching closer to see better. He had his hands propped up on his bent knees, and now, I was positioned in between his knees, standing on my own, my body slightly taller than his now, providing me a great view. He wetted his bottom lip, and I immediately but slowly swiped the berry across the lingering moisture.
I opened my mouth, and he followed my instruction, and I let the tip of the berry graze his teeth gently. He took in a sharp breath and seized my wrist. “Shhh,” I said. He kept hold of my wrist but didn’t stop me this time. I eased the berry between his teeth and nodded. He bit down, taking a bite of the delicious fruit. This time, I gasped. I repeated this dance slowly until only the berry’s stem remained.
He didn’t say a word, reaching over and grabbed the largest berry left and held the green from the luscious red. “My turn,” he said. “Stay where you are.” The combination of heat from the fire, the wool sweater, and my hormones made sweat beads on my brow. “Take the sweater off, Solara. You’re sweating. Please don’t be uncomfortable because of earlier. I’m sorry.” I nodded and shrugged out of the itchy hot fabric, used it to dab my sweat away, and threw it toward the wagon. My head felt floaty, but the trees stopped spinning, so that was good, right?
I looked, catching his intense stare, poised with his strawberry in midair. “Come closer,” he said softly. I inched closer. “Closer,” he said. I inched as close as I could without sitting in his lap. I wasn’t about to do that, but after his comments about my back side, I silently giggled. “Stop laughing,” he said in a serious tone.
I giggled out loud and then pressed my lips together to prevent any more from escaping. I took in a deep breath and then looked back toward him. “Stop biting your lip,” he said, leaning toward me with the strawberry extended. “Close your eyes, please.” Demanding. I like it!
I closed my eyes. I felt the berry trace my lips, and its sweet aroma filled my senses. I parted my lips to ready myself for the bites to follow, but they didn’t come. Instead, Faric tilted my chin up and softly ran the berry over my neck and shoulders, gliding it over my collar bone and down my arm. My skin came alive with goose bumps, and I felt my breath hitch. “Bite,” he whispered, his breath warming my ear and throat.
I waited until I felt the berry on my lips and bit down, savoring the sweet ripe fruit in all of its glory. It was my new favorite. I felt the moist, now jagged, fruit slide down the other side of my neck, trailing its way down my arm and back up. I kept my eyes closed and enjoyed using all of my other senses, which were on full alert.
“Let me guide you. Keep your eyes closed but turn around,” he said, guiding me with my shoulders until my back was facing his chest. He had risen on his knees as well. I felt his breath on my shoulder and neck. The cool fruit gently glided down my back along the plunging line of my dress. It trailed back up and over my shoulder.
Faric grabbed my stomach with his other hand, pulling me to him. “Lay your head back onto my shoulder,” he said in a deep, smoky voice. I complied immediately, my breath becoming more labored. I didn’t know what he would do next, and it was thrilling. “Bite,” he said, softly. His breath at my ear was distracting, but I sensed the berry in front of me and bit down. Mmmmm. His hand was still clasped on my stomach, just under my ribcage.
I gasped as I felt the berry glide across my neck and over the curves of my chest. Then he stopped. I didn’t feel the berry anymore. His arm held me back against him, but I lifted my head.
“Turn back around,” he rasped. “But keep your eyes closed.” I walked on my knees until I felt like I faced him, his arm guiding me all the while. “Come closer,” he said. I walked myself forward until my chest touched his. His breathing was heavy.
I waited for the strawberry, but it never came. His lips softly grazed mine, and then he kissed me, slow at first, then deeper and rougher. I opened my eyes to see his aqua gaze and sighed into his mouth at the sight of his fuchsia lips on mine. I returned his kisses with a demanding fever—passionate and wanting. His hands grazed my arms and trailed down, tickling the bare skin on my exposed back. His lips trailed down my neck and back up again. My stomach clenched in response. My hands explored his arms, the ridges of his back, abdomen, and chest.
I peeled his shirt off of him and felt his warm skin under my palms and fingers. I left trailed moist kisses on his neck and chest before he wound his fingers into my hair and guided my lips toward his again. I expected a soft kiss but was greeted with a crushing hungry one, which I thoroughly enjoyed until he pulled away from me. Then it dawned on me what we had just done. Oh my goodness. I felt guilt wash over me. For Wes, for Lil, for us. I touched my swollen lips and moved over, putting space between us. It was just the alcohol. Right? Faric cleared his throat and stood up, walking over to the wagon. “I’m going to get some water,” he announced as if nothing had happened, and he stalked away into the darkness.
I stayed, sitting, staring at the fire, trying to process what we’d just done. There was definitely no way I was the chosen. I was married and had just kissed my best friend’s husband. The worst thing of all—I liked it. A lot.
I walked away from the fire and looked through the canopy above at the stars that peeked through the onyx sky. Defiant light. I could see Faric approaching from the darkness and his eyes searching me. I waved to let him know I was okay, and he nodded and began packing the remaining fruit away for tomorrow.
I had no idea what time it was, but the moon shone brightly through the trees, casting an eerie bluish hue to everything it touched. I heard a twig snap behind me and quickly spun around. Nothing. Maybe just an animal? A moment later, I heard leaves crunching nearby under someone’s foot. I could still see Faric. He was placing more wood on the fire. I tensed and twirled in a circle, taking in everything around me. I didn’t see anything at all.
As I moved back toward Faric, I heard another footstep behind me. Frozen, I waited. The trees in this area formed a circle, leaving a perfect sphere of the night sky in its center. Hearing another footstep nearby, I decided to call for help.
“Faric,” I said, keeping my voice steady and normal—not too loud or too soft. I didn’t want to startle any animals. A bear would tear me to shreds before I made it to the campfire. He didn’t hear me. “Faric,” I tried again louder. Another snap. Another footfall. I turned around and shuddered at what I saw. “Faric!” I screamed.
The behemoth of a man, extremely tall, broad, and muscular with long flowing amber hair and cobalt-blue eyes started to walk toward me. I countered his progression by moving backward toward the fire, toward Faric, and toward safety. His skin was luminous and without flaw. He was dressed in what I could only describe as a white loincloth with a golden plate of armor over his chest and some sort of engraved gold-armored plates on his forearms and shins. His enormous feet were clad in leather sandals whose laces crossed one another on their journey up his ankles. He kept inching toward me. Then I heard a loud whoosh rush past my ears. I grasped them and sunk to my knees unsure of what had caused the loud sound and wind turbulence at the same time. I looked back up at the mountain of a man and saw a pair of beautiful stark-white wings spanning at least ten feet to his sides. I clasped my mouth at the sight of him.
I could hear Faric approaching hurriedly, and then I heard him cry out as if in pain. The angel glowered in his direction and his arm extended toward Faric, who was now pinned against a tree by some invisible force. He panted and grunted in battle
against the pressure of the invisible restraint.
“It is time, Solara,” he said with a melodious tenor voice. He stepped toward me, lowering his hand. I looked at Faric who was still plastered to the tree despite the angel dropping his hand.
Before I could look back at him, I was hoisted into the air by an invisible force as well. With one strong beat of his wings, the angel lifted himself off of the ground and hovered across from me, maybe twenty feet away. I looked down at Faric, and terror flashed through his eyes as his met mine. I started to panic. My breath expelled in short, ragged huffs. I frantically tried to look for whatever was suspending me in the air but could see nothing.
The angel smiled and lifted me higher toward the canopy. “Let me down. Please, I beg you. Let me down.” He just looked at me and then began to look around behind him. I heard another whoosh before my hair lashed my face.
Hovering beside the angel was another beautiful man with short dark hair and light-gray eyes and sun-kissed skin. His armor was similar but was black metal matching his onyx wings. He smirked and looked arrogantly at the white-winged angel. “Sorry, I’m late.” The white angel laughed heartily.
The white-winged angel smiled and said, “Do you not grow tired of hell, brother?”
The dark angel laughed and said, “My hell is currently situated on earth and so I am thoroughly enjoying the sins in which I am currently able to partake.”
“Excuse me, I hate to interrupt, but put me down”—I pointed toward Faric—“And let him go.”
Both of them burst into laughter as I was whipped around with my back, facing them. My hair was blown over my shoulder, exposing my back completely. The white angel’s voice resounded through the forest. “Chosen one, you will now receive the mark of the Creator.” Terror flowed through my veins as just as his voice boomed and reverberated through the forest. Crows flew from their perches, blending with the black of the sky, leaving an ever fading cacophony in their wake.
Pariah (The New Covenant Series) Page 12
