Pariah (The New Covenant Series) (7 page)

He was being truthful. Th
e rope cut even deeper, leaving red marks in their wake. My skin stung and burned against the coarse briars digging into it. I was stuck. My heart began to thump rapidly. Would I be taken to jail? I had heard about the punishments for criminals. Punishments in the kingdom were administered based upon the offense, but they included death by hanging or beheading, lashings, and imprisonment for various lengths of time. I even heard that some were made to work off their sentence in the fields of crops on the outskirts of the kingdom. That would be my preference if allowed the choice, which of course, I wouldn’t be given.
Choice
was a word the kingdom had methodically eradicated from its vocabulary and the vocabulary of its subjects.

He grabbed my elbow and walked me over to the steps and
down them. “Sit,” he barked, shoving me backward and down. I landed on the top step. The jolt caused my hands to flinch in a gut reaction to catch myself from the fall, causing the ropes to bite further into my skin. A whimper escaped my lips in reaction. He stood at the bottom of the three large stone steps, smiling up at me.
At least he wasn’t towering over me anymore and wasn’t touching
me,
I thought.

I noticed that my dress’s hem had crept up to just below my
right knee in the scuffle. I moved my hands slowly to try to push it back down. Too late. He saw me trying to cover up and shook his head with a primal look on his face. Lust. He was crazy. And I didn’t care who his father was. There was no way I would marry him.
I would kill myself first
, I decided,
if I made it out of my current predicament
.

continued to look at the s
kin of my leg and bare foot and back to my eyes and back again but remained quiet as if carefully contemplating his next move. He grabbed more of the coarse brown rope from his belt and moved slowly toward me. “What are you going to do with that? I’m already bound, Altair. See?” I held up my wrists and wiggled my fingers at him, trying to lighten the mood. He knelt down, and I tried to move backward away from him in response. He seized my bare ankle, preventing my retreat. He swiftly grabbed the other ankle as well and began to bind them together in the same intricate constricting serpentine knot.

“So you don’t get any crazy ideas to run, pet,” he slithered his
hand over the top of my foot. I automatically recoiled, and the knot around my ankles squeezed and bit into my flesh. I glared up at him, snarling my lip.
Sick bastard!
He stifled a laugh at my guttural response. Then it dawned on me. If he hurts me, a potential, he could get in big trouble, right?

I reasoned. “Altair, when t
he council finds out how you’ve hurt me, even your father won’t be able to save your sorry ass,” I say with mocked sweetness, slightly smiling at my moment of bravery. It was short-lived.

He grabbed my jaw and squeezed tight, pulling me until I
stopped about an inch shy of his face. “Shut your smart mouth,” he slowly growled. “Or I will punish you even before we are wed.” His clenched hand trembled my jaw with his anger. The rage in his steely eyes terrified me, sending shivers down my spine and made me reconsider my approach. How would I get out of this?

Suddenly, he clasped his hand over my mouth and his fingers were
so broad that they covered my nostrils as well. I couldn’t breathe. Slithering around to my back, Altair pulled me backward into his chest, still covering my mouth, although his fingers moved, allowing me to catch my breath. He grabbed me tight around the ribs with his other hand. The motion caused the bindings on my ankles to dig further, and I felt something warm and wet run down toward my heel.
Blood.

Then I realized what caused his reaction—two male voices
outside the door. One was Wesley. He was saying that he hadn’t seen me since class today and that Rachel had gone to check on me and found that I was missing from my room. The other voice said that he spoke with Annette, Aria, and Lillian and that they hadn’t seen me either. The second voice said he would start going through the building door to door, beginning on our floor and moving toward the exit. Wes agreed to aid him in the search. I could hear the doors to our left groan and squeak. There were only three before they would come to this one. I was so excited.
Come on! Get me off of this blasted balcony and away from this crazy stalking freak!

As their footsteps fell closer to t
he door in front of us, Altair, raised me up with him and dragged me into the shadows where I had tried to seek refuge from him earlier. It was the only cover the balcony offered. Wes and the other man began talking again, and

I heard the voice of Miss Annette
join in. She spoke frantically fast, and I couldn’t make out what she was saying because her voice was soft in comparison to the deep timbres of the males with which she conversed.

Altair released my ribs an
d was rifling in his pocket for something.
Oh, God. He’s going to kill me! He’s getting a knife!
My entire body trembled, and my breath escaped in short, shallow bursts. He had pulled out a white linen handkerchief and another piece of the coarse twine. “Stay quiet, or I will kill you. Do you understand?” He looked in my eyes, seeking affirmation that his threat had sunk in. I nodded in response, afraid to make a peep because he seemed like a man of his word in this instance at least.

In my mind, I pretended to be
brave and scream out to Wesley. Before I could even contemplate acting on such a thought, he stuffed the handkerchief in my mouth securing it with the twine, which he knotted behind my head along with a few hairs that were yanked out in the process. Now I realized why it was called a gag. I was choked by the fabric that smelled of Altair—dangerous and strange.

The thin rope grated the tender skin along the corners of my
mouth, jerking tears from my eyes, which flowed quickly to my jaw and plunged off to the stone below my feet, one splashing onto my second toe. Altair moved my hair back and brushed away my tear tracks with his icy thin fingers and whispered, “Stay still and quiet. Understand?” He paused to wait for my reaction. I nodded as more tears streaked down my face, carving new tracks to freedom. He stepped away and then turned and grabbed my elbow. “On second thought,” he said, “there’s no way to really hide you out here. We have to go with plan B, love.”

He
moved me into the moonlight and eased me down against the wall furthest from the door. More warm liquid flowed from my ankles and could taste the metal of the blood seeping into the moist handkerchief in my mouth. My wrists were also wet, but I wasn’t sure if it was from blood or tears as I sat in the darkness of the night. The key rattled in the door, and the door flew open.

Faric made his way up the stair
s. He hadn’t seen me yet. “Hey, have you seen—” his voice stopped short. “What is this, Altair? Why is she bound?” His gaze shifted from Altair to me and back again. His eyes flashed with anger.

Altair moved to block him f
rom reaching the top step. “She tried to escape or commit suicide. She won’t talk, but I found her trying to climb the balcony wall,” he lied. “I had no choice but to bind her. It was for her
own
safety.”

Faric furrowed his brow
and looked behind him as Wesley came outside followed by Miss Annette. Wesley’s dark green gaze locked on mine, and his eyes widened. The muscles of his jaw clenched at the sight of me. Miss Annette covered her mouth with one of her hands and ran to my side, pushing Altair out of her way. She was fearless. Wesley shoved his way around Altair as well and came to my other side. “Give me a knife!” he roared. “Now!”

Faric removed one from his
pocket and tossed it to Wesley, never removing his stabbing gaze from Altair. Altair’s feet were planted in defiance, his hands perched on his hips. Wesley looked at me and said, “This is going to hurt, Solara. I am so sorry.” He squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them and got started on sawing the rope that held my gag in place. The back and forth motion further ripped my skin open, and I felt the blood drip down my chin. He removed the handkerchief from my mouth, tossing it onto the stone beside me and went to work to free my wrists and then my ankles, both with the same bloody results. Finally free of my bindings, I tried to appraise the damage to my wrists, but my hands shook so badly, and it was so dark, I couldn’t get a good look at the actual wounds.

Wesley stood and helped Mi
ss Annette to her feet. “Go get the healer, please. I’ll take her to her room and wait for you there,” he softly requested. She left immediately, shifting her broad hips around the men and out the door, moving as swiftly as her joints allowed. Wesley leaned in and whispered, “I’m going to carry you, okay?” I nodded in response. Suddenly, I felt numb.
Had this all really happened?

Wesley scooped me up, and my entire body shook against his
chest. His arms carried me past my captor to my room, gingerly laying me on my bed, my head landing on my pillow
. I’m ok.
I’m alive. He didn’t hurt me.
This revelation caused a new wave of emotion to roll through my quivering form, and tears filled my eyes and spilled onto my cheeks. Wesley was pacing the floor in front of my bed but stopped when I released a pent-up sob. He rushed over to me and sat on the bed’s edge. I sat up and locked my arms around his waist and wept until Miss Annette arrived with the healer.

I let go of Wes, and he got ready
to stand up, but I grabbed his arm and shot him a look, pleading for him to stay with me. His look indicated that he wouldn’t leave me, and I kept hold of his hand while the healer moved his hands over the corners of my mouth.

The healer, Jarrius, had kin
d indigo eyes, a wide nose, and dark skin. His hair was coarse and long, salt and pepper, and his long beard the same. He wore an emerald tunic tied with brown sash. Two small brown leather pouches were tied to it. Swirling patterns of tattoos spread up the dark skin of his arms. His pants were shorter than most men wore and were frayed at the hem, which grazed the bottom of his knee. Bare feet, also tattooed, were dirty on the soles.

I was silent as he appraised my
wrists and ankles with his wide calloused fingers that were surprisingly gentle to the touch. Miss Annette walked to the door and grabbed a bowl of water from delicate outstretched hands. They were Lillian’s.

Miss Annette squeezed the door shut
as Lil tried to get in. She grabbed some cloths and wet them, dabbing at my mouth to remove the blood. She repeated this process as gently as possible with both wrists and ankles. The pain made me wince a few times, but overall, I was numb. It further reminded me of what Altair was capable of, and I shuddered at the thought.
I’d just been given a taste of his cruelty.

When Annette had finis
hed, the healer removed the two leather pouches from his sash and mixed the contents of one with water, making a thick grayish-green paste. He then gently rubbed the mixture on my wounds, uttering words from another language, barely audible. Wesley and Miss Annette watched intently as he worked. When finished, he handed Miss Annette the second pouch and instructed her to rub the mixture on my wounds for a week to prevent infection and promote healing. He admitted that he didn’t think I would scar, but he couldn’t be sure. “Depends on her skin,” he simply offered, shrugging his shoulders.

Before he left, he smiled
down at me and placed his large hand on my head, muttered something, and then removed it and smiled at me softly again. For whatever reason, his words, smile, and kind touch had healed a part of me that I hadn’t even realized had been injured tonight.

Miss Annette said she w
ould go dump out the water, now tinted pink with my blood, and would be back soon.
She’s just giving Wes a chance to talk to me
, I thought. When she closed the door behind her, I looked at Wes. He was pacing again, raking his hand through his slightly curled brown hair. I let him pace. He was thinking, and I didn’t have the energy to start the conversation that I felt would ensue. Exhaustion swept over me from the events of the evening, and my eyes began to grow heavy.

“Solara, please rest if you nee
d to,” he said softly. He knelt down beside me. Though I was very tired, I knew we needed to talk about the other night.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” I asked, staring at the
wooden beams of the ceiling above me.
Might as well get this awkward conversation over with and behind us
, I thought.

“I just didn’t know what to s
ay to you. I’m sorry,” he said, looking at me. “I am so sorry for my behavior, Solara. I rarely drink at all, and I was completely out of control. I don’t want you to feel taken advantage of. That was not my intent.” He stiffened and swallowed hard. “Truth be told. I remember kissing you, but I wasn’t sure if it was consensual.” his voice cracked.

I looked over at him, completely taken aback
. “You’ve been avoiding me because you thought you
made
me kiss you?” I waited for his response, and he swallowed hard again, giving it to me.

“Wesley, you were drunk, but y
ou were a complete gentleman. I
asked
you to kiss me,” I admitted.