“We are in a hurry. Please sit!”
Zara sits immediately and several women descend on her in a flurry to make her Circle Ceremony ready.
Zara holds perfectly still in every position she is placed in as she is processed for her pending walk down the aisle. As the last button is secured on her dress, her mother circles around her to get a full visual. Instructed to get into her presentation position, Zara lowers to her knees, careful to not catch any portion of her dress. Sitting back on her heels, she rests her hands in her lap, one crossed over the other. The ladies apply the final layer of hairspray and insert the last of the hairpins before leaving Zara and her mother alone in the suite.
Back on her feet, Zara struggles to regulate her breathing within the confines of the dress. She gazes into a full-length mirror, alone with her thoughts. A few hours ago, she woke up in her own bed and now she has been prepared for a short walk that will change her life forever.
Her mother steps into the reflection behind her. “You look lovely, Zara Faith. I am very proud of you today. You have taken everything I have taught you and made it your own. You are ready for whatever is placed in front of you.”
“Thank you, Mother,” Zara replies in a hushed whisper.
There is a knock at the door as mother and daughter look at each other one last time. Zara’s gaze returns to her own eyes in the mirror. She squares her shoulders and takes as deep a shallow breath as she can. Her mother turns and takes a couple of steps toward the door leading out of the suite.
“Zara Faith, there is one thing I want you to know before your ceremony. You may not understand, but I love and cherish your father with all of my heart. It will be difficult today. The traditions work. Trust in them.”
Harder knocks at the door end the mother-daughter moment. Zara reaches the door first, but knows not to open it. Stepping aside, she waits as her mother opens it and lowers her gaze. Zara’s father stands on the other side waiting to gather his daughter for the ceremony.
“It is time!”
Chapter 2
The march to the Center Circle is long, each step taking Zara closer to her unknown future. The weight of the dress presses upon her like a reminder that her life is not her own and in a very short time, that ownership will be given to a man who was chosen not just by her father, but by the council of the Community. Once this man, this stranger, enters the Circle and places the collar around Zara’s neck, he will become not only her Dom, but her husband as well.
One step behind her father, Zara carefully places one foot in front of the other. She passes children dressed in their very best, always in training and sitting still under the watchful eyes of her Community. Their eyes are lowered to the white carpet laid specifically for tonight’s ceremony, but Zara knows from experience that quick peeks are being sneaked as she strides by.
Zara catches a glimpse of Sloane in a pale blue dress sitting with all of the other single females of the Community. Zara catches her wink and sees her cross her fingers in a silent signal of solidarity.
Sloane and Zara had talked about this day for months. With Sloane’s ceremony only four months after Zara’s, it had been a hot topic. While both were nervous, Sloane had an air of excitement when she had talked about her life-changing event while Zara had rued her loss of freedom. Only Sloane knows Zara would rather be walking down a different path tonight and she would always keep that secret safe.
Once inside the center of the ceremonial Circle, Zara’s father turns and places a kiss on each of her cheeks. He does not see the tears being held at bay. Years of training allow Zara to maintain her line of vision straight down to the floor in front of her.
He gives the command to take her presentation position. Zara is well-versed in the steps of the Circle Ceremony. Her position as daughter of a King Council member has required her attendance at all ceremonies since the age of five.
Her mother rushes to adjust the gown. There is nothing left to do but wait for the inevitable. Zara concentrates on breathing. Years of training have prepared her to maintain her position motionless for as long as necessary.
In outsiders’ weddings, the attention is on the bride, but in the Circle Ceremony, it is squarely placed on the Dom and his family. The Dom and his family are the unknown in the ceremony. While the submissive and her family are from the local Community, the distance the Dom travels can vary from across the state to across the country.
Sloane had attempted to figure out the criteria once. She quizzed Fredrik when he returned from one of his ‘Pre-Dom’ retreats, as Sloane liked to refer to them. All he would say is, it depended on the strength of the King Council network in the region and the reputation of the candidate’s family.
A rustling in the hall alerts Zara to the entrance of her future family. The whispers amongst the guests follow him as he walks down the white carpet.
Exploring the surroundings within her peripheral vision, Zara is careful not to stir from her statuesque position. Her eyes lift to the table where the collar rests, waiting to be placed around her neck.
The collar is clasped. Zara sees no key. Her heart skips a beat.
Something is wrong.
Her eyes frantically scan the table. Her mother clears her throat and she knows she has been caught in the slightest change in orientation.
Breathe. Just breathe.
Her mind is racing.
Why is the collar locked? Where is the key? Think.
In all the past ceremonies Zara had attended, the collar lay open. The open collar is the symbol of the Council’s approval of the match between the first-born daughter of a Council member and the son of a Council member from a different sect. The key to the collar is the symbol of ownership for the first-born’s daughter by her Dom. The history of this ceremony requires the collar to be unlocked, the key ready to be presented to the Dom.
When one’s life has been filled with inevitability, processing surprises becomes difficult. Zara’s mind sifts through all of the ceremonies that she has attended, fast-forwarding to the point when the open collar is picked up and placed around the “birthday girl’s” neck. In every memory, the collar is lying open before it is picked up.
Zara’s breathing becomes labored. All thoughts of the collar evaporate as someone steps into the center of the circle.
Shoes.
What can be determined about a man, a Dom-to-be, by his polished, square-toed black shoes?
Nothing.
The dress restricts any attempts at taking a deep cleansing breath, so Zara tries employing a technique taught during years of training to settle her thoughts. The curiosity to sneak a peek at the man now standing next to her becomes an overwhelming challenge destroying her control.
The need to look at his face begins to vibrate through her entire body. Moving would bring her mother’s throat clearing and a definite lecture the moment they are alone later at the celebration. Zara tries another deep breath in an attempt to settle. It doesn’t work.
Discovering what he looks like will not change my future.
The hall quiets as the Master of Ceremonies steps into the circle. Zara’s shoulders fall. This is her final moment of freedom.
A hand comes to rest on Zara’s shoulder and a moment later she hears her mother suck in all of the oxygen in the hall. With all the strength she can summon, Zara keeps her eyes locked on the floor directly in front of her, ignoring the weight of the fingers pressing down on her.
“Please. Open it. Read it.” The quiet plea in his voice mesmerizes her.
Wait! What am I supposed to be doing? This is not how I remember any of the other Ceremonies.
“Zara, please read the letter.”
He lightly taps her shoulder. The envelope is at eye level and there is no mistaking what he wants. Slowly, she reaches for the envelope and brings it down to read without raising her eyes.
Dear Zara Faith Evans:
Congratulations on your admission to Michigan State University and welcome to the Spart
an Family.
Confused, Zara rereads the first sentence of the letter.
Michigan State University? My name is clearly on the letter. But… how?
“I don’t understand,” she says in a whisper more to herself than to him or anyone around.
“Zara.”
For the very first time, Zara raises her eyes to look at the man who is to become her inevitable future. Before she can stop herself, Zara gasps at seeing his face.
He is more attractive than expected with his large brown eyes, high round cheeks and strong square chin. There is a sense of warmth behind his eyes as Zara’s eyes meet his. Even the sound of her mother’s threatening throat clearing cannot break their eye contact.
“ZARA FAITH!”
There is no mistaking her Mother’s harsh tone and her streak of disobedience is broken. Returning her gaze to the spot on the floor, Zara’s hands tremble making the paper shake. She tries to take another deep breath. Gently the letter is removed from her hand, is refolded and slid out of sight.
The magnitude of Zara’s disobedience has far exceeded a mild lecture at the celebration. She begins to feel lightheaded. The responsibility which her position demands within her family is clear. She closes her eyes and tucks her chin into proper submission.
“Mr. Evans, I would like to speak to your daughter privately for a few minutes. After this display, I am sure you will give me a bit of latitude.”
Without hesitation, Zara’s father takes a couple of steps back allowing the two strangers to speak privately.
The entire hall gasps in unison and Zara’s eyes fly open wide to find her Dom-to-be kneeling in front of her. In a voice only Zara can hear, he begins to speak.
“I am not your Dom. I am not your husband. I have an offer for you. We can walk out of this Circle as a collared couple and begin our lives like both of our parents before us and their parents before them. Or, we can leave this Circle in a new way. I will be here every step of the way to take care of all your needs while you attend college.
“You can use this time to discover who you are and what you want. It is my sincere hope that four years from tonight you will again be waiting for me within the Center Circle, that at such time, you will be ready to complete the ceremony freely. Whether or not you are in the Circle waiting for me in four years will be your choice and only your choice. I know this is not as you were trained, but we have a very tight window to make this work. I need you to nod… if you wish for me to take you away to college.”
Though too shocked to process everything that is happening, Zara understands this is the only way out of a life she has had no design in choosing for herself.
She nods.
Straightening to his full height, he extends his large hand and helps her to her feet. Zara is shaky and realizes again, she does not know what to expect. She finds her mother’s eyes and stares into them attempting to convey love and her need to take this unexpected opportunity.
“Aubrey.”
Zara’s father ends the silent communication between them, the tone making it clear what is expected of her. Zara’s mother’s eyes drop to the ground directly in front of her and she slowly lowers herself into the kneeling position that her father’s tone demands. There would be no point in hoping for more eye contact with her mother. She is no longer Zara’s mother. She is now her father’s slave.
Addressing Zara’s father, the man at Zara’s side says, “I would like for my mother to have five minutes with this submissive before we make this official. Protocols are important where I come from. I am sure you understand.”
“Of course,” her father replies. “I am confident that you will find Zara Faith’s training satisfactory. We would be happy to give you five minutes to ensure you are getting the best possible submissive.”
Thankful she had followed her instinct on not eating earlier, Zara swallows hard at being addressed as if she is livestock to be traded at auction. With his hand still clasping hers, he leads Zara out of the Circle, passing the collar that Zara had been prepared her entire life to wear. With her eyes still cast down, Zara passes her mother in her kneeling position with her arms crossed behind her back, her eyes affixed to the floor in front of her.
They quickly walk past everyone: the King Council members, Doms with their subs, Masters with their slaves and the section of unattached males and females that are whispering fiercely as they pass. Together, they are walking away from everyone and everything that Zara knows.
“Son?”
Pausing to address the soft-spoken query, a beautiful dress steps to join them and form a small circle of three. Zara never lifts her eyes to look at anyone’s face.
“This is it. Do not stop until you are on the plane. Zara, this is a big decision. Are you positive about this?”
Zara gives the slightest nod and with that unspoken signal, everyone parts ways. Pulled to an exit at a near run, they reach the door to the outside of the building in record time. Zara notes how unusual it is not to have staff present to open the door for them at a formal event, that the abrupt change in schedule has altered the routine.
He reaches to open the door and releases her hand. The absence of his hand unsettles her just as his first contact only minutes earlier had. Not knowing what to do with her hand, Zara lifts the dress and steps through the opening he provides.
His hand finds the small of her back and rests there, his warmth seeping through the dress. Tingles shoot to every part of her body as he guides her towards a limo parked just a few feet from the door.
An older gentlemen steps out of the driver’s side and quickly opens the back door. With a friendly smile, they work together to tuck all the layers of the dress into the car. Once inside, the two men stand outside the car and speak together briefly.
Before Zara’s mind gets an opportunity to start processing the events inside the building, he climbs onto the seat beside her, lifting the wayward layers of the dress to avoid sitting on them. Without fanfare, the car pulls away from the curb. The man beside her takes out a cellphone and makes a call.
“Yes. Fine. Hopefully, the beach, but if not, in town. No. No. I understand. Peter has already notified them. There won’t be any delays. I will. Okay. Okay.”
Hanging up, he sighs. His head rests against the back of the seat as he tucks the phone back into his jacket pocket. Not knowing where they are going or what tomorrow will bring, Zara sits silently waiting to be addressed. It is how she watched her mother live her life and how she had been prepared to live her own as well.
The boning in the dress is making breathing difficult at her angle. The night’s plan had not included a car ride. The dress was only meant to be worn for the Circle Ceremony. Once the collar was secured and the vows exchanged, Zara would have walked through the Dom’s door having removed all the clothing of her past life, including her wedding dress. Zara would have been redressed in clothing of his choosing and assisted by his mother, then finally, she would have exited out of the ceremony hall through his door.
“Zara, it’s going to be okay.”
Startled, Zara jumps when his words break the silence. She nods and keeps her face schooled with the same half smile that she has worn since arriving at the Center several hours ago.
When the car stops, Zara carefully surveys her surroundings. Surprised to find they are parked a few feet away from a plane, she stiffens. The car door opens from the outside and the man sitting next to her exits. Once out of the car, he extends his hand back in to assist Zara and her dress out. Her exit is far less graceful.
A light mist makes the air feel cooler and she trembles, eyes still on the ground in front of her. She sees him remove his suit coat then feels it put over her shoulders. Her years of training betray her and her gaze wanders towards his face. With all of her strength, Zara slowly drags her eyes back down his body until they find their way to where they belong on the steps ahead of her.
“Zara, this is the first step of you experiencing life on your own term
s. Please… trust me.”
Chapter 3
Inside the plane, it is impossible for Zara to continue looking at the ground. When her heels hit the plush carpet, he wraps his arms around her to prevent her from falling. She leans into his chest taking in the interior of the plane.
“Wow,” Zara exclaims in awe, stiffening as the word comes out.
“I was wondering what it would take to get you to start talking. Unfortunately, the plane is my dad’s corporate plane but now you have given me a goal.”
He chuckles as he walks her past four seats grouped together. Through a doorway, he points to the first set of seats on the right-hand side. They are nothing like the group of seats located at the plane’s entrance. In this section, they are three times wider and covered in caramel colored leather. There is also a long couch of the same caramel leather accented with a coffee table. Opposite the couch are two more deluxe seats. Beyond the couch is a closed door.
Zara slips into the closest of the plush seats. She watches in wonder as he gathers her dress and tucks it around her as much as he can. Inhaling his scent, she is reminded of sun-touched water just as a summer breeze blows by. It is the smell of happiness playing in water.
A seatbelt is snapped in place and pulled to a snug fit. Zara feels him staring at her before he steps back.
Although there is a seat next to hers, he sits in one directly across from her. With a sigh, Zara returns her eyes to the carpet in front of her. Now is not the time for her to continue her exploration of the plane. With him seated across from her, Zara must remember her training and keep her eyes cast down.
Zara tenses at a small jolt as the plane begins to move. She can feel him watching her and senses her best efforts to mask her fear may not be enough.
“Little One, is this the first time you have flown?”
Keeping her eyes on the puffiness of her dress, Zara nods with the slightest response.
“Zara, please look at me.”
Zara’s body stiffens at the request. Slowly raising her eyes off her dress, they move up his body. Her gaze travels up his stomach to his chest. Without his suit coat, she gets to examine the body that she was just leaning against as they entered the plane. Her heart begins racing with the anticipation of looking into his eyes once more as she catalogs every inch of him for future analysis.
Before Him Comes Me Page 2
