Fate's Call

by C. A. Szarek

  Stumbling back, Norden’s eyes went wide and he paled, as badly as Erron had up in the loft.

  Jarek scowled. Coward bastard. Fear looked good on him.

  “Lies. All lies,” the big man muttered, shaking his head. His shoulders slumped, his bravado gone.

  Kirgan stepped forward and thrust out Norden’s axe. “Even if the lass wasn’t to marry my son, I’d never allow her to go back with you.”

  Jarek’s chest swelled. His father’s support without question gave him strength. “Expect Lord Camden’s proclamation soon,” he told his betrothed’s father.

  Norden shook his head again, sputtering nonsensical words.

  “If he doesn’t commit you to the penal territory, I’d be shocked. And if you come after us, or lay even a finger on Erron again, I’ll kill you.”

  ****

  “I don’t want you to go to Lord Camden,” Erron blurted as she rushed into Jarek and Kirgan’s shop.

  Jarek, his father, and Anais were huddled not far from each other just inside the doorway.

  As she’d stared out of the window of the loft, her heart thudded with every step of her father’s retreat.

  He’d hurried away.

  Norden hadn’t even looked back. What could he be planning?

  Was he gone, out of her life, for good? It couldn’t be that simple. He’d told her many times he’d never let her go.

  Jarek rushed over and tugged her into his arms. “Love—”

  She squeezed him tightly before pulling back. “I just…want to be your wife. I…need to be done with him. I can’t…don’t want to have to tell…” Her voice broke on a sob. There was no way she could testify to the Duke of Dalunas about what her father had done to her.

  “Shhh…” Her tanner squeezed her against him, rocking her gently.

  Anais stroked her back as her betrothed held her.

  Erron tried to catch her breath. She shut her eyes and wiped away her tears.

  Why didn’t she want revenge on the man who should’ve never taken her innocence? A man whose blood flowed through her veins?

  She should want him to rot in Dread Valley, but Erron only wanted to be away from her father.

  To be with Jarek. And…now she had both?

  “He needs to pay for what he did to you,” Jarek said into her hair.

  “The lass should have the say,” Anais answered. Her small hand continued to make soothing circles up and down Erron’s back.

  She didn’t even know the older woman, but Erron felt cherished already, and that she’d gained not one champion, but three.

  Family.

  Jarek released her and the four of the moved to the living quarters of the two men, separate from the shop front. Her betrothed seated her at the table while his father and mother-to-be disappeared into Kirgan’s sleeping room. They emerged moments later, fully dressed and groomed; Anais had gathered her long blonde locks into a bun.

  Taking a seat across from Erron, Jarek’s father reached for her hand. His deep brown eyes were impossibly soft, concerned. “Lass, what that man did to you is wrong. You have a right to see him punished. The duke is a good man. He would hold a trial.”

  Erron shook her head. Panic clawed at her and she panted.

  Jarek scooted his chair closer, throwing his arm around her shoulders and pulling her against his side.

  “I just want away from him.” She pushed words out, breathing in and out slowly, deliberately. Her tanner’s touch helped ground her.

  Kirgan and Jarek exchanged a look but said nothing.

  Anais put a plate of fresh bread and a bowl of butter on the table next to some fruit that had already been there. She rested her hand on Erron’s shoulder.

  “You two eat and leave the lass alone. She’s made it clear how it’ll be handled.”

  Both men protested, but Erron met the older woman’s eyes, giving a grateful smile.

  Anais caressed her cheek and smiled back. “You’re here now, lass. You’re safe, and soon to belong to my lad. He’ll treat you right. Love you and care for you.”

  Erron nodded. She believed Anais. She’d finally be a part of a real family.

  Kirgan and the woman would be like parents to her. Erron could have a mother again. Then she could be a mother. She and Jarek would have children. Her heart skipped a beat.

  “Erron, I don’t think—”

  “Hush, you.” Anais admonished, cutting off Jarek’s statement.

  Her tanner’s brow drew tight, but he said nothing.

  “There are many types of justice,” she added softly.

  “Including gelding,” Jarek bit back.

  “Hear, hear to that,” Kirgan said.

  “I won’t let him touch you again,” Jarek growled, ignoring the glare his mother-to-be threw his way for ignoring her.

  “That’s enough for me,” Erron said, her voice getting stronger with each word.

  Her betrothed crossed his arms over his broad chest, his expression dark. “I don’t like it.”

  “Neither do I,” his father echoed.

  Erron was cold without his arm around her but she met his brown eyes straight on. “All I want is you.”

  His face softened and he caressed her cheek. “All I want is you, too.”

  Her heart missed a beat at the sincerity of his tone and the love in his expression. Jarek was all for her.

  Norden’s angry face popped into her thoughts and she suppressed a shiver. “He’ll come back for me.” Her father was the only threat to her happiness.

  Jarek’s words on the ride into Dalunas Main teased her memory. He’d said they would marry quickly.

  “Let him come,” Kirgan said, making a fist.

  “It won’t matter,” her tanner said at the same time, cupping her face. The intensity of his stare made her cheeks warm all over again. “Erron, will you marry me? Today?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, elation washing over her. She grinned.

  Kirgan grabbed Anais’ hand, kissing her knuckles before tugging her to his side, arm slung low around her waist.

  She beamed, her round cheeks pink.

  Jarek glanced at the older couple, then back at Erron. “Shall we have a wedding today? Or two?” He winked and his father grinned when Anais giggled.

  Erron’s stomach flipped. She would be married this very day. But when would her father reappear?

  Chapter Fourteen

  It wasn’t difficult to find a priest and an available chapel.

  Erron shifted from foot to foot, smoothing the shimmery ivory gown Anais had insisted on buying her. The move was unnecessary as the dress was gorgeous and flawless, but she had to keep her hands busy to stave off nerves.

  It had a lower bodice than she was used to or comfortable with, displaying cleavage, but all three of her new family-to-be, even Jarek’s father, had exclaimed over how beautiful she was. She’d be three shades of red for the rest of the day, if not the rest of the sevenday.

  The gown had a simple elegance that made Erron feel completely out of place, but it was beautiful, she couldn’t deny that.

  Her mother-by-marriage-to-be had selected it and dressed her like a doll, including fashioning her long hair. Her locks were intricately braided with flowers woven in. Erron had never been dressed and groomed so exquisitely. And for her wedding day, no less!

  A day she’d long since given up on even imagining.

  Her stomach fluttered, and nerves settled over her, a mixture of excitement and dread—the fear wasn’t for her upcoming vows. She wanted to bind herself to Jarek.

  She couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder from time to time. The chapel was dim and empty save them, but was her father around the corner?

  Would he burst through the dark wooden doors at any moment?

  She imagined him shattering the pretty stained glass windows or breaking the worshiper benches with the axe he’d carried that morning. Erron tried to shake the image from her head, but Norden was the only one who could destroy her happines
s.

  Jarek grabbed her hand and slid his fingers in hers, squeezing gently and smiling.

  She’d always thought him handsome, but dressed as fancy as she for their wedding, he had her heart skipping a beat. Fine dark brown leather breeches and a matching doublet brought out the color of his eyes and the long sleeved tunic was the same hue as her dress.

  Bright green leaves on a vine were embroidered along the edges and around the neckline, and it was somehow fitting for him. The color popped from the dark brown, as much as it fit.

  The tanner would soon belong to her.

  Kirgan and Anais would also exchange vows this day. The older woman was glowing in a pale blue gown, her long hair loose and down her back in soft waves. The style made her look turns younger. Her dress was also embroidered, but with shiny silver roses, making her appear ethereal as light caught the threading.

  Jarek’s father was dressed to compliment his bride, in a dark blue kit that had silver threading trim. He looked like the older version of his son, and they looked so striking standing side by side.

  Erron had made the mistake of worrying aloud about the coin all the garments had cost. She was hushed by more than one party, but when Anais had told her she’d deserved a pretty gown on her wedding, she’d cried. She couldn’t help it.

  Everything was surreal.

  On the short walk to the chapel, Jarek had teased his father for not being able to keep his eyes off his bride, but Erron’s betrothed wouldn’t quit staring at her either. Her blush would become permanent if he kept it up.

  As her soon-to-be-father-by-marriage spoke to the priest, she fidgeted against Jarek.

  “Love?” he whispered. “Are you all right?”

  “Aye,” she breathed, smiling and forcing a nod. Erron was still equal parts overjoyed and paranoid that her father would appear and ruin things. She couldn’t tell Jarek that, though. The words wouldn’t form.

  He smiled back and leaned down. “I would kiss you right now if I could,” he said into her ear. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

  She looked into his dark eyes. The tenderness and heat there made her stomach flip. What would tonight bring? The night she’d spent in Jarek’s arms in Anais’ loft had been more than pleasant, but innocent.

  Would her new husband accept if she wasn’t ready to make love? He’d told her he would wait for her. But was she ready? If not, when would she be?

  She had the urge to gulp.

  “You haven’t changed your mind, have you?” Jarek asked, his brows drawn tight as if he could hear her thoughts. “You still want to marry me?”

  “Of course,” Erron said, plowing on. “I…was…contemplating tonight.”

  “Nothing will be rushed into, love.”

  She grinned. “Except our marriage.”

  Jarek laughed, nodding. “Aye, there is that.” His expression sobered and he cupped her face. “But it’s right.”

  She nodded. It was perfect, despite circumstances and worries about her father.

  The priest cleared his throat. “Are you ready?”

  Collectively they nodded, and Erron swallowed hard. Jarek took her hand and they stepped up to the dais next to Kirgan and Anais in front of the portly older balding priest of the Blessed Spirit.

  They would exchange vows at the same time and act as witnesses for each other. The parchment scrolls declaring their marriages only needed signed when they were done. The priest would then deliver them to Castle Malloch to file with the duke’s steward in charge of registering vital statistics.

  It would be official.

  They would be legally married and there wasn’t a thing Norden could do about it.

  Tingles raced up and down her body, but she forced herself to calm and stand still next to her betrothed, ready for the priest to give the blessing.

  The ceremony was short; Erron spoke when it was necessary, repeating the priest’s words when prompted. Jarek’s eyes were only for her, and she couldn’t help but stare up at him as he pledged his heart, his life, to her.

  “I pronounce you men and wives.” The priest winked. “You may salute your brides,” he added, a grin on his dark bearded face.

  Is this a dream?

  She was married? Wed to a man she’d fallen in love with?

  Please let it be true. She didn’t want to wake up crushed if it wasn’t real.

  Erron’s vision blurred for the hundredth time that day, but this time it was happy tears. Her heart leapt for joy when her husband pulled her into his arms.

  She was vaguely aware that Kirgan had also drawn Anais to him, but then Jarek claimed her mouth and she was lost to him.

  He pushed against her lips and she didn’t hesitate to open for him, her arms shooting around his neck as she pressed closer. Erron rubbed her tongue against his, her breasts lifting against his chest as warmth spread over her body, settling low in her belly. When he deepened the kiss, everything but him fell away, and she just felt, giving herself over to Jarek and the desire that was burning up her body.

  Erron ached, and she wanted—needed so much more.

  Jarek pulled away much too quickly, and she struggled for breath and coherent thought, never wanting to leave the circle of his arms.

  He stared down at her, his dark eyes intense, and his breathing as uneven as hers.

  A chuckle broke their spell and Erron forced her gaze away from her new husband’s heavy-lidded dark eyes.

  Where they were came rushing back, and embarrassment flushed her body, cooling her ardor, but the heat of his chest against her breasts, his hips against hers was a pleasant contradiction, and she could feel her new husband’s erection against her, too, so Jarek had been just as swept away as she had been.

  He made no move to release her, which helped ground Erron even more. Jarek didn’t seem ashamed. That helped, too.

  “Young people,” the priest said, but the smile on his face was bright.

  Erron jumped, and she wanted to bury her face against Jarek’s neck. Maybe she was too mortified, after all.

  “Save that for later, my lad,” Anais said, wearing an infectious grin.

  Jarek and his father laughed and Erron’s face burned even hotter. Her husband pressed a kiss to her forehead and her lips before releasing her. “I love you. We’re married,” he whispered.

  We belong to each other now.

  “We’re married,” Erron repeated. “I love you, too. Husband.”

  “Wife.” Jarek’s grin was wide enough to split his face.

  Her heart skipped its way into a canter as she reached for his hand and Jarek kissed her knuckles before tucking her fingers in his.

  Tender and protective. And so much love in his beautiful eyes Erron wavered on her feet, until he steadied her, like he always would.

  Could she really have a happily ever after?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Erron trembled as she sat on the edge of the bed in Jarek’s sleeping room—their room. She shouldn’t be scared. And she wasn’t…exactly.

  Jarek would never hurt her. She wanted this. She wanted him. They were married now. So what was the problem?

  The day had been a whirlwind. First they were married, then they celebrated with neighbors, Anais throwing together a feast complete with music, dancing, and congratulations from people she didn’t know.

  Worries of her father had actually been pushed to the back of her mind. She’d enjoyed herself, though her face would be permanently red from all the attention.

  As evening settled over them, the other newlyweds crossed the road to Anais’ home and weaving shop, leaving Erron and Jarek in the living area of the tanning shop. Alone with her new husband.

  Erron’s heart galloped and she forced a breath. She was dressed for sleeping, in one of the two chemises she’d brought from home. It wasn’t fancy or sheer—definitely nothing to impress a new lover.

  Will Jarek mind?

  “Love?” His voice was soft. Unintimidating, nonthreatening.
/>
  Gentle. Like always.

  He stood in the doorway, so handsome in his wedding attire. Her stomach flipped and she offered a half-smile.

  How could she love him so much after such a short time?

  Jarek came to the bedside and squatted in front of her. Taking both of her hands in his, he kissed her knuckles. “Nothing has to happen tonight that you don’t want.”

  “But…we married today.”

  He slid onto the bed beside her. Jarek cupped her face and stroked her cheeks with both thumbs. “And we’ll be married tomorrow. And the next day…and next sevenday and the one after that, next turn…and the one after that. I need you forever.”

  Erron smiled and heat rushed her cheeks—again.

  He pressed his lips to hers in a tender kiss.

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  “I would hope so, or today was a huge waste of time.” Jarek grinned and opened his arms.

  She rushed into his embrace, slipping her arms around his waist. Butterflies flittered around her stomach. “Are…you ready for bed?” she asked, the sound muffled against his soft leather doublet.

  Her new husband pulled back, still smiling. “I can be ready when you are. For anything you are.”

  “What if…I wanted to try…and…”

  His dark eyes bored into hers as Jarek cupped her face again. “I want to make love to you,” he whispered. “But if you can’t, I understand. If you want to try, I’m willing. Believe me, I’m willing. I’ll stop any time you tell me to.”

  She shivered but not from the temperature in the room. Erron pressed her lips to his in answer. Jarek groaned and deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue against hers. She pressed closer, hands flat on his chest. Warmth spread across her body, settling low in her belly, and she wanted more. Wanted to touch his bare skin, feel it against hers.

  Erron tugged at the ties beneath her fingertips.

  Pulling away gently, Jarek gripped her wrists, panting. “What do you want, love?”

  “You.”

  He smiled and made quick work of the doublet, shrugging out of it and then yanking the ivory tunic off. Jarek stood, peeled his belt open and started untying his breeches.