Fate's Call

by C. A. Szarek

  She moaned and wiggled.

  He felt…perfect inside her. They fit together.

  Jarek stilled above her, his dark eyes intense. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes.” She nodded, her vision blurring again. “I’m…perfect. Finally with you. Completely.”

  “Why’re you crying? Am I hurting you?” He didn’t wait for an answer; just started to pull away.

  Erron wound her arms and legs around him, holding him hard and fast. “No pain. Please stay with me. I feel good. I just…didn’t know it could be like this.”

  Jarek kissed her. “After all the things we’ve done together, and how we’ve made each other feel? Oh, love…”

  She forced a watery smile and tilted up for another kiss, which Jarek didn’t hesitate to place on her mouth.

  “This is the just the beginning, wife,” he whispered.

  “Show me, husband.”

  Jarek propelled forward and Erron moaned his name as the pleasure hit. It was different from when he’d tasted her and touched her with thrusting fingers. More intense, more feeling. Just…more.

  She stayed wrapped around him, moving with him, under him, against him, as he thrust. His kisses were endless, his tongue moving in rhythm with his hips.

  Pleasure and pressure built until she screamed his name, arching against him. Her whole body tightened, her inner muscles contracting as ecstasy washed over her in waves. It was better than the other orgasms he’d given her. Full. More extreme.

  Now she was completely his.

  Jarek groaned her name as he, too stiffened, suspended above her and his expression one of frozen passion. His release shot into her.

  She felt the warm rush and shivered in his hold. That was perfect, too. It meant they could have a child.

  Erron was boneless as he collapsed on top of her, but she held him close, her heart pounding against his. She’d never felt so good in her life. “I love you,” she breathed.

  He lifted his head and met her eyes. “I love you, too.” His chest heaved and she stretched up to his lips.

  “Thank you for taking care of me. I mean now, and for the last two sevendays. Just for everything, Jarek.”

  He slipped from her body and rolled to his back, taking her with him, pressing a kiss into her forehead. “It’s my job to take care of you. I’m your husband.”

  She snuggled close. “I could get used to that.”

  “Please do.”

  Erron grinned and kissed him again.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Bustling around the weaving shop was a part of her routine quickly, and so natural Erron couldn’t remember a time before she’d been Anais’ apprentice, and more importantly, Jarek’s wife. Nor did she want to remember.

  As the days went on, she loved Jarek more and more. Being loved by him was something she’d never cease to be amazed by.

  She was halfway through the third sevenday of their marriage—and her new life—and she’d seen and heard nothing of her father. For the most part, Erron had even stopped looking over her shoulder.

  Norden knew where she lived now, after all. If he was coming back, there was little she could do about it. The Blessed Spirit had given her a gift that redeemed what she’d been through.

  Jarek growled any time her father’s name was brought up, so she didn’t very often. Besides, she had no desire to talk about him. Think about him.

  Erron chose to focus on her new life—new duties as a wife and a weaver’s apprentice. She loved spending the day with Anais as much as she loved spending the nights in Jarek’s arms.

  Her mother-by-marriage was also enjoying her second marriage—as was Kirgan. The couple never stopped smiling. Erron grinned as she recalled Anais’ bright cheeks at the breakfast table when Jarek’s father had kissed her soundly.

  Would she still blush when she reached Anais’ age?

  The bell to Anais’ shop jangled, indicating someone had stepped inside. Erron was weaving a rug and minding the shop while the older woman was at market. She hadn’t filled orders just yet, but Anais promised her practice would soon be good enough to do so.

  She looked over her shoulder from the loom, a smile on her face and a welcome on her tongue.

  “Erron.” The gruff voice was thick and Erron’s heart stopped.

  She turned slowly, swallowing against the sudden lump in her throat.

  Her father stared back, now silent and standing just inside the shop door.

  Erron said nothing and her heart sped up.

  Norden was a mess. His beard and hair were disheveled blond fluff on his head and face. His clothing looked as if it hadn’t been laundered in a month. Which was probably close to the truth—Erron had always washed and cared for his garments.

  She faced him completely, standing from the loom and inclining her head as if he was a customer.

  Erron was done with him, and she would show him. Tell him.

  Norden was out of her life.

  He wouldn’t ruin things for her now.

  “Norden,” she said. Never again would she greet him with the word he’d never really been to her. Respect he’d never deserved

  His gasp made her pause, but she grasped her new normal with both hands. She wouldn’t let him dislodge her strength.

  The back entrance to Anais and Kirgan’s home slammed and the rush of booted feet made both Erron’s and her father’s heads snap in that direction.

  Jarek rushed into the store, his face red, mouth set in an angry line as he slid between her and Norden. “Get out. You are not welcome here!” her husband barked, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

  “I’ve a right to see my daughter.” Norden’s voice broke, every word seemingly a struggle. His chest heaved.

  “You’ve no right to my wife.” Jarek shook his head and sliced the air with a hand.

  Erron took a step forward before her father could answer and placed a hand on her husband’s forearm, tugging gently. “I want to speak with him.”

  Jarek’s dark gaze flashed to her, his expression softening. “Why, love?” His body still blocked her from her father, shoulders and back tight.

  Smiling up at the man who owned her heart and soul, Erron straightened, squaring her shoulders. “You’ve given me everything in such a short time.” She kept her voice low. “I won’t let him ruin it.” Erron leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

  He made a sound in his throat. Acquiescence or admonition, she wasn’t concerned. Her husband would protect her whenever he saw fit, and it made her stomach somersault. He was really all hers, and she was all his.

  Forever.

  She slid forward to stand beside her husband, facing her father.

  Jarek grabbed her hand and Erron entwined their fingers, his touch giving her even more strength. She cleared her throat.

  Was she really going to do this?

  Yes.

  “What you did to me, a young girl should never have to endure.”

  Something flickered across the pale eyes that matched hers, but her father said nothing.

  Erron took a breath. “I’ll never forget, but I’m at peace now. You’ll never touch me again. So go from here and never come back here. I’ve put you in my past, and that’s where you’ll stay.”

  She should scream, fuss, pound his chest with both fists, but with every word she felt lighter, the sharp pain of what Norden had taken from her fading to an ache, even more than it had over the last three sevendays.

  It wouldn’t dissipate right now, but with time, perhaps she would completely heal. Her husband and her new parents had already helped so much.

  Jarek squeezed her hand and she forced her breathing to regulate.

  “I’m done with you,” Erron said.

  Norden’s mouth hardened and he took a step forward, intentionally towering over her like he had all those turns. He raised his hand as if to slap her, which made Jarek shoot forward.

  Erron raised her palm to stop her husband and stared her father down l
ike she’d never had the courage to do. “I’m. Done. With. You,” she repeated. Her voice rose with each word.

  Her father’ shoulders slumped at the second use of the phrase he’d so often used to release her from his bed. His pale blue eyes never left hers, but after silence seconds, his arm withered to his side and his massive chest heaved as if he’d taken a breath. Norden’s face fell, too.

  She said nothing as she observed his defeated figure. Not even pity or sorrow. It was as if she was gazing at a stranger.

  He studied her, his gaze raking her whole form, but still said nothing.

  What was he thinking? Had he expected her to leave with him?

  Why had the man even come?

  Slipping his arm around her waist, Jarek pulled her flush to his side. “Well, go on. You heard what my wife said. She’s done with you.”

  Her father’s eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth as if he would speak, but Jarek growled.

  “You. Are. Not. Welcome. Here,” he bit out.

  With that, the man who’d tormented her for ten turns slipped from the shop without another word.

  The sense of finality settled over her and Erron’s stomach fluttered.

  He was gone.

  For good.

  Jarek tugged her to him and covered her mouth with his before she could take a breath.

  Erron slipped her arms around his neck and melted into him—like she would for the rest of her life.

  “Are you all right?” he breathed.

  She smiled up at him. “More than all right. I’m perfect.”

  “Yes you are, love. I’m so proud of you.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. “I’m proud of me, too.”

  “I love you,” Jarek whispered before pressing another kiss into her lips.

  “I love you, too.” She snuggled into his chest and her husband rested his cheek against her hair. “Do you think he’s gone for good?” Erron asked after several moments of a companionable silence.

  “I’m not sure, but we have the rest of our lives to find out. But I’ll keep you safe.”

  She lifted her head and met his dark eyes. “I’ll hold you to that.”

  Jarek grinned. “You’d better.” He leaned down and claimed her mouth again.

  Erron clung to him and kissed him back.

  Want more Erron and Jarek?

  Keep READING!

  Normally, I tend to write epilogues for my stories, and this one just didn’t strike me that way. But, you can get an epilogue of sorts (2 actually) about this couple below. I really love these two.

  A few years ago on my blog, I played what’s called, The Author Alphabet game. It was actually before I was published, (I believe Sword’s Call—The King’s Riders Book One was in edits with the small press I was with at the time) and I used the opportunity to explore the world of The King’s Riders. I wrote 26 very short stories about all sorts of characters—some I’d known, and some, like Erron and Jarek, who were new to me.

  These two touching little shorts, for the letters Y and Z (I guess I did save the best for last) are where I met them, then decided to write their full story in Fate’s Call, which was also on the blog as a serial before it was expanded and edited as you just read it.

  I also met many other characters, as well as got to know some like Cera, Braedon, Hadrian and Avery (all in Sword’s Call) much better. It was a great experience that taught me a lot about this world I created, and I look forward to being reacquainted with some of them sometime! There are many other stories there that could be told! (and some characters will definitely reappear in the series, some you already know, and some you don’t unless you read all the letter shorts.)

  For those of you who follow The King’s Riders, (Thank you!) Avery’s book is next, and it will be a fun one! Look for it later in 2016!

  Y is for Yours

  Erron stared out the window of the cottage. Children shouted while they played, kicking and tossing a brown ball Jarek had made for them. He was always so kind to everyone.

  He’d given her everything.

  This home in Greenwald Main, love that she’d never imagained would be for her. Jarek never touched her with violent hands as her father had. He never forced himself into her; also as her father had, taking what should’ve belonged to Jarek.

  Her husband had taken Erron from her past, moved them across the continent to the Province of Greenwald, with his parents’ blessing when he’d achieved Master Tanner. He’d never faulted her for her stains. He’d showed her not all men were evil. Jarek loved her, held her, kissed her, made love her to with all that he was.

  But none of the children she watched playing near the market streets were theirs. The five turns she’d been married to Jarek—the happiest turns of her life—she’d been unable to conceive.

  He didn’t fault her, but Erron faulted herself. She wanted nothing more than to hold a piece of Jarek in her arms. To stare into deep brown eyes like his, brush dark hair from a little forehead, see a smile that was Jarek’s in miniature.

  Her heart thumped as her eyes remained trained on the boys kicking the ball back and forth.

  The blanket she was knitting lay forgotten on her lap, fire crackling in the fireplace of their cottage, but it was almost too warm inside. Her husband’s magic kept the fire going.

  It was a nice early spring afternoon, but Jarek always insisted she be warm enough.

  Erron should start their evening meal sooner than later. Jarek had been given some fresh venison by a neighbor in exchange for her husband’s tanning services. She was planning on preparing stew. It was Jarek’s favorite.

  The door opened just as she set the lid on the bubbling pot after a good stirring. It was almost ready. A clean masculine scent wafted in with the early evening chill, mixing with the pleasant scent of the food. It tickled her nose.

  She smiled as her husband hung his leather apron on a hook next to the door. “You bathed.”

  “I did,” Jarek answered, throwing a grin over his shoulder. “I wanted to be clean for supper. Messy work today. You wouldn’t have wanted my company.”

  “I always want your company.”

  He came to her quickly, pulling her into his arms. She slipped hers around his neck, snuggling into his chest.

  “I love you,” Jarek whispered, his warm breath on her neck sending a shiver down her spine.

  Erron met his eyes, but before she could speak, his mouth settled over hers. She kissed him back, opening for him immediately. Their tongues touched, then danced. Warmth spread over her body, settling low as desire for him pooled between her legs.

  He kissed her harder, melding their bodies from hip to hip, chest to breasts. Evidence that Jarek’s thoughts mirrored hers pressed into her belly.

  “How long before the stew is ready?” he breathed against her mouth.

  “Tubers were still a bit hard,” Erron answered, gripping him tightly so she wouldn’t fall on her bottom on liquid legs.

  Jarek grinned pure mischief and swung her up into his arms. She kissed him and he groaned against her lips before taking control. He devastated her from the inside out. Erron was all need for him, only him.

  Shucking clothing was done in a blur, and to the floor they went, instead of neat or in order on their trunk.

  Cool sleeping furs were a pleasant feel on her naked form, but did nothing to calm her racing heart, heated body. Only her husband could do that, and only after he was inside her.

  He was on the bed lowering himself on top of her, then joined their bodies without breaking the seal of their mouths. Erron cried out against his lips with his first thrust, gripping his biceps and lifting her hips to take him deeper. She needed to get closer to him.

  Their lovemaking was fast and frenzied but she didn’t care. Jarek moved in and out of her, touching her until her blood boiled for him.

  Screaming their release at the same moment, Jarek collapsed into her arms, and Erron held him tight. He brushed a blonde curl from her heated face and flas
hed a smile.

  “I’m sorry that didn’t have much finesse,” he whispered, pressing a tender kiss to her lips. “I needed you. I hadn’t seen you all day.”

  “I love you,” Erron said.

  Jarek rolled to his back, pulling her to him and chuckling. “I love you, too. So much.”

  She sighed and cuddled closer. Erron laid her cheek over his heart. She could hear and feel it slowing from its frantic pace.

  “Are you hungry, love?” Jarek asked sometime later, breaking what had become a companionable silence.

  She lifted her head and met his dark eyes. “Aye. We should eat.”

  They shared their meal at the small table in their cottage, speaking of nothing and everything. Erron smiled as Jarek talked, telling her of his day, what he’d accomplished, and what was left of his project for their neighbor and friend. His eyes lit up when he spoke of creating. He loved his work, and she loved him for it.

  “How was your day?” he asked as he started in on his third bowl of stew.

  “Fine. It was fine.”

  Jarek put his spoon down and their gazes locked. “Is something wrong?”

  Erron shook her head and squeezed his forearm. “No, love. Everything is good. I’ll finish my blanket tomorrow.”

  Her husband stared at her for a moment. “I’m sorry.”

  “Whatever for?”

  “We moved here to start a new life.”

  “And we did. I do miss your father and Anais from time to time, but I love our life here, truly.” She paused. “Do you not believe me?” Erron’s question was urgent.

  He nodded, but his eyes looked sad and he frowned. “I know you want children—”

  “The fault is mine.” Erron looked down.

  “What fault?” he whispered.

  “That I cannot—that we—” Tears cascaded down her cheeks.

  Jarek pulled her from her chair onto his lap. His arms squeezed her against his chest and Erron buried her face in his neck.

  “No.” His tone was vehement. “There is no fault.”

  She didn’t know what to say, but she couldn’t look him in the eye.