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"I don't know," she said quietly. She was not quite fond of either option not knowing what the outcome would be for Valmere.
"Maxon," he said suddenly. "You are the reason Maxon came with Mary! But how did he know?"
"The sorcerer?"
Wesley nodded in confirmation.
"Malaki wrote to him when I first came here because he thought he might be able to figure out what the Bishop knew and be able to send me home."
Wesley nodded as if this made perfect sense and another piece of a puzzle he was solving slid into place. She realized this is how his mind thrived, putting different pieces together to create a whole. His sense of perception was unparalleled and in that moment she regretted not confiding in him long ago.
"We should go find him," he said, moving to the door before he stopped abruptly. "What happened after we parted yesterday?" He slowly turned to look at her and part of her bemoaned that he remembered, but also knew that he needed to know.
"After the alcove when I left, I ran into the Bishop. He knew about what happened between us. I don't know how. He knew and he knew about my mark." She put her other hand to her wrist, covering it protectively.
Wesley moved slowly towards her. "Tell me what he said."
"I don't know, Wesley. I was already upset and then I panicked." She ran a hand over her face trying to clear her thoughts. "He told me the king expected me at dinner." She began pacing in an effort to remember. She stopped suddenly when she remembered what he said when he saw her mark. "When he saw my mark, he said that he wondered which one of them gave it to me."
She looked up at him as if he could figure out what it meant and his brows narrowed in concentration as if he was trying. He shook his head. "I don't know what it means. If it's one of the three gods or something else? I don't think it would be the gods. I don't think they mean you well and this seems harmless enough," he said, reaching down once more to touch her wrist. "Tell me what happened next," he whispered.
"I got away from him, but then I was in my room and ready for dinner and I was so angry. I felt so much rage, and I don't know where it came from or why. Then Richard came to get me saying his father sent him. Then when I got to dinner I was still so angry. Malaki tried to calm me down and asked me to dance, but I was so angry. I did though and after I realized he was right and I did feel better. But then he was asking me what happened to make me like this and I didn't know, but then you were there and I don't know what he saw, but he knew." She knew she was rambling, but her mind felt so muddled and it was hard to eloquently explain the night prior.
Wren felt the shame burn through her at how Malaki had looked at her, and how she couldn't sort her feelings. Telling Wesley only served to amplify the shame threatening to drown her. Wesley moved towards her until his hands were on either side of her arms. When he looked down at her, there was such anger and worry written all over him.
His voice was dangerously quiet. "Did he hurt you?"
Wren jerked her head up to him, shocked. "Who? Kai? Of course not. He would never." She was surprised at her sudden and passionate defense of him.
Wesley took his hands away from her. "I see." His words were a painful echo of Malaki's from the night before. He moved away from her, and she suddenly felt panicked that she couldn't lose him as well.
She reached for his hand, dragging him back to her and wrapped her arms around his hard stomach, hugging him tightly. He barely hesitated as he put his arms around her and rested his chin on top of her head. She wasn't sure how long they stood like that, but she would have paused time if she could.
When she reluctantly pulled away, she saw his face was more relaxed. He smoothed a piece of her hair and tucked it behind her ear. "Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me all of this, Wren. I promise my mind and my resources are yours to find the answers you need."
She smiled up at him, and she couldn't help but notice how the green in his eyes changed with whatever he was feeling. His eyes were such a vibrant green that she was reminded of when the leaves were reborn after winter took its leave. He was truly beautiful. She knew she shouldn't do it, that she should recognize that she was confused and that whatever was happening to her was causing her emotions to be erratic.
Despite knowing all this, she didn't just want him, she needed him. She pushed up on her toes, and in anticipation of her intention, he bent his head down to meet hers, pressing a gentle kiss to her mouth. He lightly took her head in his hand while the other rested on her lower back.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. His mouth moved slow and purposeful against hers as if he were taking every moment of it in. The ache in her thighs began to grow, urging her to be closer to him, convincing her to kiss him with more fervor, his body responding to her growing need.
Her heart beat thunderously as she tangled her hands in his hair. He whispered her name against her lips in warning. The effect was the opposite though, and she urged his mouth open needing more. She saw the bed behind them and tugged at his shirt to follow her while never looking away from him.
His eyes startled her with the depth of their color, and the pure desire burning in them. Whatever he saw reflected in hers unraveled his self-control, and he was lifting her up and laying her gently on the bed. She only had to endure the absence of his warmth briefly as he lowered his body over hers. She bent her legs as he angled himself in-between them before meeting her lips with a new kind of urgency.
She had never known this feeling, this burning need. It was the most beautiful torment she had ever felt to need all of him, and not have it.
His breathing hitched when she pulled up his shirt and ran her hands along the hard muscles of his abdomen. "Gods, Wren, what are you doing to me?"
She grinned against his mouth. "I thought you were supposed to be clever."
He growled at her and began kissing her again, his tongue finding hers causing a pitiful sound to escape her lips. It only pushed him farther into whatever need he was feeling and he reached behind her, fighting with the buttons of her dress. She shifted, allowing him more room to maneuver them. She eagerly lifted his shirt which he graciously paused his button work to allow her to remove it.
The sight of his bare chest was as beautiful as his face and she ran her hands over it. He shivered under her touch before simultaneously kissing her and undoing the infinite buttons of her dress. She was struck by the thought that she could never get enough of this feeling, of him.
A knock came from the door and he stilled above her. He pulled his mouth away from hers and she instantly mourned the loss of him. Another knock. He was breathing heavily and she could see he was trying to catch his breath. Another more insistent knock.
"I do not wish to be disturbed," he shouted.
