Pariah (The New Covenant Series) (12 page)

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. R
esting 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 gr
abbed 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 del
icate 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 delic
ately 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, grab
bing 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 t
he 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 fi
nger 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 stepping 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 to
ld 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 stipu
lation. 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,” Fari
c 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 hi
s?” 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, ve
ry 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.