Hunted (Book 2) (13 page)

Tressa stood in front of the mirror, the gossamer gown
draping her body but barely concealing a thing. She hadn't realized how sheer
the amber fabric was until she slipped it over her head.

"I'm missing something," she mumbled.

"May I speak?" the woman standing in the corner
of the room said. One of Adara's assistants, she had remained silent thus far,
so much so that Tressa had forgotten she was still in there.

"Yes, please," Tressa said, smoothing the fabric
over her hips. "If you know where the sheath is that goes under the dress,
I'd be forever grateful." She laughed. "I certainly can't appear like
this in front of everyone."

The woman glided across the room, her feet hidden under a
long expanse of silk. She almost appeared to float. She straightened Tressa's
dress, helping it drape across her shoulders better. "This is the full
dress. There is no sheath."

Tressa looked in the mirror again. Her nipples peeked
through the golden gossamer. "Oh no. There must be some mistake."

"Here in the Sands, we are not ashamed of our bodies
or our sexuality. When you marry, it does not signal the end of relations with
the person you love. Instead, it shows everyone in attendance exactly why you
have chosen one another."

"Will Jarrett also be in something just as
transparent?" Tressa asked, a blush coloring her cheeks. She'd seen him
naked once before when she'd spied on the Black Guard through the bushes as
they'd bathed. She hadn't shied away, instead, she'd taken a guilty moment to
enjoy the view.

The woman shook her head. "No." A smile graced
her face. "Though he will wear very tight pants, leaving little to the
imagination." Her hand rested on Tressa's shoulder. She stood nearly a
head taller than Tressa, her face hovering above Tressa's in the mirror.
"Are you afraid he will find you lacking?"

Tressa couldn't help but notice the difference between her
body and that of the woman behind her. Where the assistant was tall, Tressa was
short. Where she was curvy, Tressa was straight. The woman's skin glowed, but
Tressa's was covered in scratches. Even her lips were still chapped. She
remembered Jarrett's insistent kisses. What did he see when he looked at her?

"Jacinda is a beautiful woman and a queen," the
woman went on, "but she has a temper that would give even the most lustful
man pause. Jarrett has satisfied her for a long time. We attendants see what
really goes on. She never fully satisfied Jarrett. He has been looking for a
long time, and I believe he has found the one woman who can fulfill him."

She kissed Tressa on the cheek, her full lips soft.
"You will serve him well, Tressa of the Drowned Country."

Tressa held her hands at her side, her fingers curled into
fists. "May I have a few moments to myself before the ceremony?"

The woman nodded and took her leave. It was only then
Tressa realized she hadn't asked the woman her name. She shook her head and
sank into a nearby settee. Her hair fell around her face, tickling her cheeks.
She still wasn't used to the extensions they'd woven into her hair.

"What have I gotten myself into?" Tressa asked
out loud. All this to protect the lives of people she couldn't wait to be away
from mere months ago.

Everything had spiraled out of control. Her feelings for
Bastian were still there, but slowly Jarrett was creeping in on them. She cared
for him, and she hoped it wouldn't turn into anything more than strong feelings
of friendship. A slight attraction and nothing more.

A knock interrupted her thoughts. "Come in," Tressa
said. She crossed her arms across her chest.

Jarrett stepped in and quickly closed the door behind him.
He avoided looking at her. Instead his eyes settled above her shoulders.
"I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but I had to come."

"That's nice of you to check in on me." She felt
exposed and wished she had a cloak to wrap around her body. All of her other
promised garments were in Jarrett's quarters, waiting for her after the
wedding.

Jarrett smiled. "Did Karina tell you what happens
before the wedding?"

Tressa shook her head. "Just that I needed to get
dressed." She laughed. "If you call this getting dressed. I feel a
tad overexposed."

"That type of gown is traditional. I know things are
bit more conservative in the Drowned Country than they are here." Jarrett
sat down on the settee, still managing to avoid looking at Tressa.

She sat down next to him, her legs crossed and her arms
still folded over her chest. "And in Hutton's Bridge, even more so. When
your village relies on sex for procreation and not love, then sex becomes a
chore."

"It's not like that here. Not at all." Jarrett's
voice washed over her like a warm rain.

He had far more experience than she did. Other than her
last time with Bastian, she hadn't known what it was like to be with a man for
the sake of lust.

Jarrett rested a hand on her knee. Tingles traveled up to
Tressa's chest.

"In the Sands, a man and a woman make love just before
their marriage ceremony. That's why I'm here."

Tressa turned to look at Jarrett. His eyes were still
trained on the window across the room. She wanted to answer him but wasn't sure
how. She'd promised to go through with the ceremony in hopes of gaining the
queen's help and favor. She'd made it clear to Jarrett that she couldn't
promise anything more than friendship. Why did he continue to torture her so?

Her heart beat erratically. A throbbing between her legs
screamed at her. Tressa pushed it all aside.

"If I didn't come to you before the ceremony, there
would be talk. Jacinda would demand more answers. We must keep up the ruse,"
he said.

Tressa closed her eyes. All she could see was Jarrett naked
near the pond back in the Drowned Country. She forced her eyes opened and stared
at the wall.

"We'll sit here and wait until it's time to leave for
the ceremony." Jarrett's hand tightened on her knee, the pressure gentle,
but insistent. "But before we go out, I would like to kiss you one more
time. But only if you want me to." He focused his eyes on hers.

"That would be a good idea," Tressa heard herself
say without thinking it through first. "If they're expecting us to make
love before coming out, we should at least look like we've done something.
Flushed cheeks. Swollen lips. It wouldn't be convincing without them."

Jarrett leaned in slowly until Tressa could feel his breath
on her face. "Are you sure?"

Tressa laced her fingers in his hair, pulling his face to
hers. She held back at first, but the chaste kiss quickly gave way to opened
lips and exploring tongues. Jarrett's hand crept up her leg, coming to rest at
her hip, his thumb in the curve where her abdomen met her leg. Tressa leaned in
closer, her chest pressing against Jarrett's shirt.

Jarrett's other hand rested just under her breast. He
pulled back. "We should stop. I won't force you into something you don't
want."

Tressa's arms tightened around his back. She didn't want to
let him go. She didn't want to stop. Instead, she let her head fall on his
shoulder. She didn't have the words for him. She couldn't tell him no, but she
wouldn't allow herself to tell him yes.

He seemed to understand, wrapping his arms around her.
"We'll just sit here until it's time. It won't be long now." He
pointed out the window. "See, the sun is setting. It is almost time."

Tears threatened to spill, to give away everything she was
feeling. Instead she used her emotions as a dam, waiting for what seemed like
ages for another knock at the door, telling them it was time for the ceremony.

"Look, over there," Elinor shouted over her
shoulder to Bastian. Her hair, whipping in the wind, slapped Bastian in the
face. "There are some people!"

Bastian squinted down through the trees. She was right.
There were people in Hutton's Bridge! Those damn healers had lied to him.
Bastian dug his heels into the dragon's sides. Connor began his careful descent
with Bastian and Elinor holding on tight. Bastian wished there had been time to
rig some kind of harness, but everything had happened so fast. Instead, he and
Elinor could only clutch Connor's scales.

Soon they were on the ground, landing in the middle of the
town square. Bastian slid off Connor's back, eager to soothe the fear his
townspeople must feel at the sight of another dragon landing in their village.
He held out his arms to Elinor. She slipped into his embrace. He tossed her a
quick smile and then let her go. While Elinor smoothed out her dress, Bastian
jogged to Connor's head. "Thank you, old friend."

Connor snorted in response.

Bastian turned to face his people, only to realize he
didn't know anyone standing in front of him. Many of them had skin darker than
anyone in Hutton's Bridge, reminding him of Jarrett's foreign appearance.
"Who are you?" Bastian asked.

One man broke away from the group and headed over, his hand
outstretched. "You must be the new leader at the Blue. I am Avital, head
of this expedition sent by the Yellow Queen of the Sands to investigate the
ghost town of Hutton's Bridge. I assume you are here for the same?"

Bastian took the man's hand and gave it a firm shake.
"The people are gone?" He didn't bother to confirm or deny his
leadership position. He barely felt like a leader anyway.

Avital shook his head. "Our own head of the guard,
Jarrett, returned to Risos with his betrothed. They told us the story of the
missing villagers and we were sent to investigate. Are you here for the same
reason?"

"We are." Elinor held out a hand to him. "I
am Elinor of the Healers Guild of Ashoom."

Avital bowed low, holding her hand in his. "Upon you
be peace, healer."

"You may rise," Elinor said, and the man
complied.

Bastian raised an eyebrow, but didn't say a word. He'd have
to ask her about it later. He didn't realize he should have been bowing to her
all the time. She was so tiny, he wasn't sure he'd be able to without falling
down.

Avital looked over at Connor, lazing in the center of town.
“Our dragons have flown off to the nearest pond, over to the northeast, if your
dragon would like to join them for a drink.”

Bastian motioned to Connor. He flew off in the direction
Avital had indicated.

"Have you figured out what direction the villagers of
Hutton's Bridge went?" Elinor asked, taking charge of the situation. It
was just as well. Bastian felt out of his element.

"Went?" Avital laughed. "They've all been
dead for decades. No one could have survived in that fog. We're here simply to investigate."
He motioned to his men fanned out around the entire village. "As you see,
we've recovered nothing. It's just as well. We're anxious to get back to Risos.
There's a wedding tonight, and if we can make it there tonight, there may still
be some feast food for us to eat."

"A wedding, how wonderful," Elinor said.

Bastian's eyes followed the men walking in and out of
cottages as if nothing inside mattered. It did. This was his village, his home,
and his people were missing. But giving himself away wouldn't help matters.
"Perhaps I'll have a look around myself," he mumbled.

"Won't do any good," Avital said. "We've
been over every inch of this ghost town. No sign of inhabitants. Nothing. It's
just as we always thought. Hutton's Bridge is dead."

Bastian shrugged and made his way over to his own cottage,
looking for any indication of his daughter or any of the other villagers. He
opened the door to his daughter's tiny bedroom, half expecting to see Farah
sitting on her bed, swinging her chubby little legs over the edge. Instead, the
bed lay disheveled covered by a moth-eaten blanket. He picked it up, bringing
the cloth to his nose. Before he could take a deep inhalation, a cloud of dust
assaulted him.

Bastian threw the blanket down on the bed and spun around
angrily. Everything was wrong. Someone had made it look like Hutton's Bridge
was dead, but it wasn't. He knew his people had to be somewhere. They couldn't
just vanish.

He left his cottage and looked back toward Connor, who’d
flown back in, his snout wet. He was lying quietly at the edge of the village,
not disturbing anyone, his cobalt tail twitching back and forth.

Elinor was deep in conversation with Avital. Her lips had
lost their regular smile, and the glimmer in her eyes was gone. She ventured a
quick glance at Bastian. The sadness in her eyes struck him. He hurried back to
them. "Are you okay, Elinor?"

She looked up at him. "Yes, I am. Avital here was just
telling me about the wedding taking place tonight in the Sands."

"The head of our guard, Jarrett, is marrying the
mystery bride he brought back with him from Ashoom. Perhaps you know her?
Tressa. She has long brown hair and a quick smile. Not the type of woman I
predicted Jarrett would fall for, but I guess we never know until we meet
someone special."

Bastian struggled to maintain an even face. His instincts
told him to grab Avital by the collar and shake information out of him. Instead,
he turned to Elinor. "As friends who trade by sea, I think it would be
appropriate if we flew in for this wedding, don't you, Healer Elinor?" he
asked, using her formal title just as Avital had.

"I don't know if that's a good idea, Bastian. We
haven't received an invitation." She shook her head, her blond curls
falling over her shoulders.

Avital laughed. "No invitation needed. Queen Jacinda
would be happy to see you there. Now that the fog is gone, it's time for the
dragonlords to reconcile. Particularly now that the awful Stacia is dead. I'm
happy to see the Blue has a new leader. Jacinda will be too. You should
go."

"How long will it take us to fly there?" Bastian
asked Avital, ignoring Elinor's insistent tugging on his arm.

"Most of the day, I suspect," Avital said,
rubbing his goatee. "If you leave now, you should arrive just in time for
the wedding."

Bastian shook Avital's hand. "Thank you so much for
letting me know. I'll tell your queen how accommodating her men are."

They exchanged quick pleasantries. Avital gave Bastian a
map with landmarks to guide them to Risos. But Bastian’s mind was already in
Risos. He had to see for himself if Tressa had truly left him for Jarrett.