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It provides hope.
Hope of a life where, someday, people can make their own decisions and live the way they desire. In Tenny Rocks, the townspeople have tasted a sliver of this freedom. With the exception of their work schedules, they no longer live under the Council’s thumb.
Holding Bastian’s hand… kissing him… is a punishable offense in the city. Here, I’m free to express how I feel. I can’t let Avren’s rules continue to control me from afar. Either I’m a member of the Kindred Few, or I’m Lady Raven’s pawn.
He stops me, holds up my hand, and spins me around. “I don’t think this dress meets the Council’s approval.”
I slip my arms around his neck and press my body against his. “I no longer care about what the Council approves of.” My lips meet his eagerly. It feels different because the nagging voice of Lady Raven no longer fills my head.
Avren doesn’t own me. I know that now.
He feels my abandonment. Growling, he slips his hand beneath my bottom and lifts me into his arms as I wrap my legs behind his back and deepen the kiss. His tongue battles with mine, trying to win the war of who wants the other one more.
The crowd disappears as he sets me on a rock wall, my dress hiked up almost to my waist. Gravel digs into the back of my thighs, but I don’t care as I take his face in my hands and dive back into our kiss. His hands slip behind me, exploring my bare back before settling on my waist.
He finally pulls away, out of breath. “You don’t need to prove it to me anymore. You’ve earned it.”
I raise an eyebrow, hoping he means another chance to share his bed. “Earned what?”
“Your tattoo.” His fingers trail along my hairline, lifting a tendril of hair behind my ear and tracing the shell, setting my body on fire.
“But I thought I had to prove myself… like, in battle.” My emotions are in a jumbled mess. As much as I want to drop everything and become a bona fide member of the Kindred Few, I want nothing to detract from the fire about to set my core ablaze.
He rests his forehead against mine. “I said you had to prove yourself. I didn’t say how.” Lifting his head, he looks me in the eye. “Avren had a chokehold on you. We’ve watched your progress—your desensitization toward the role the city’s rules and regulations play in your life. When you rejected me the other night, I knew you weren’t quite ready.”
“So, you used me?” Tears well in my eyes as everything comes crashing down. “You pretended to like me to see if you could get past the brainwashing?” Disappointment morphs into anger as I push at his chest, not wanting him so close.
He snatches my wrist before I can shove him again and leans into me. “Not at all, Maribel.”
I wince when he uses my full name.
“This is real.” He touches his chest above his heart. “You make me feel more alive than anyone I’ve met in my entire life.” His voice breaks, revealing his vulnerability. “Before you came home with Gray, my world revolved around eating, sleeping, and training. Susan filled a lonely night here and there, but she didn’t fill what was missing in my heart.” He swallows, gazing up at a stray firework lighting the night sky, then brings his face close to mine. “You, Maribel Windsong. You are the one thing in my life I didn’t know I was missing.” Swollen lips meet mine again, perfect in both words and actions.
A hand tugs on my skirt, and I look down at a little girl with blonde pigtails, an orange kerchief covering her head, and a yellow dress. She holds a hand smeared with dirt out to me, so I slide off the wall and take it, no longer bothered by the beliefs of my past. I keep hold of Bastian as she pulls us into the crowd of people dancing in a chain to the lively music.
By the time our chain weaves through the entire square, we are both laughing and out of breath. Bastian slips a hand behind my back and leads me down an alley, meandering through stone buildings. With his warm hand in mine and the oil lamps on the stoops of this narrow passageway, I feel safe. This man could ask me to jump into the river, and I’d follow him willingly. It’s crazy how a few weeks can change your perspective on someone.
We stop in front of a door without an oil lamp. Bastian raps on the surface with his knuckles, and I can feel his broad smile in the dim light.
“What are you doing?” I whisper, the words magnified in our desolate surroundings.
“Don’t worry.” He gives my cheek a swift pinch and turns to the door as it opens.
“Bastian Hale,” a woman’s voice says. In the shadows, I can’t see her face. “Come for another reading?”
“Not tonight, Reviva.” He drapes an arm over my shoulder, tugging me to him. “This is Maribel, the newest member of our family. She’ll need a tag.”
A tag? What does he think I am? A dog? A cow on his farm?
“Ahh…” The woman reaches out and touches my face. Her long, bony fingers are ice cold as she traces the contours.
I clutch my arms to my chest, unsure if I want to stay very long. The festivities in the town square are much more appealing.
“May I read your palm?” Reviva asks, her hand dropping from my face.
“No.” Bastian’s voice is firm. “That’s not why we’re here.” His hand slides over my lower back, gripping my hip. “Mari needs a tattoo.”
I swallow, my throat dry and my head spinning. He had mentioned that I’ve earned it, but I didn’t think he meant this soon. The Council forbids markings of any kind on the body because they taint the pristine nature of our society. I hate how I’m still conflicted. Getting this tattoo is supposed to be my way to say fuck you, as Bastian would put it, to the Council.
