whispered, just loud enough for only him to hear.
“Examining the new shacks for occupancy space,” he replied, understatedly.
“You’re building an army, aren’t you?”
He leapt across to the next dock before answering.
“Yes, Jocelyn,” he said with unwavering conviction. “I am.”
6 TWO PATHS
The following days were a blur. New arrivals were organized into reconstructing shacks or put to work building new ones. They were taught the village routines, where to find fishing spots, and began meeting their neighbors.
Talk surfaced about the Caldwells and Weatherfords living in such close quarters, but that a truce had also been established. While this alleviated concerns for some, others wondered whether we would pose more of a threat than the Vires, which I found laughable.
Jameson had been correct. Those who escaped the ministry did return to their provinces and recount what happened there. A Caldwell defending a Weatherford was considered breaking news in our world. The fact that the two of them had escaped together caused an even greater stir in the gossip circles. Slowly, it became known that Jameson and I were the ones who defied The Sevens, and any time we left our shack, our presence drew intrigued stares.
As if the challenge to The Sevens weren’t enough, news was spreading about our true identities. At times, I was addressed as Relicuum and Jameson as Nobilis. This brought on an entirely new spectrum of curiosity within the village. If a Weatherford and Caldwell being devoted to each other wasn’t startling enough, The Relicuum and The Nobilis falling in love certainly was.
We disregarded their stares for the most part, but then Jameson called attention to our popularity in a way I couldn’t ignore. It was almost two weeks after the new arrivals began settling in when he muttered, “We have an audience,” as we were heading for dinner one evening.
“We do?”
Following his gaze across the waterway, I saw entire families trying hard not to appear like they were observing us.
Holding back a laugh, I surmised, “We must be dull to watch.”
He stopped suddenly. "That's what you think?"
“Sure. We’re not fighting….”
A mischievous smile crossed his face. “Maybe we should give them a different kind of show….”
I was about to remind him that I wasn’t mad and had absolutely no interest in arguing, when his arms came around my waist and pulled me hard against his hips.
My back naturally arching in response to his force, he brought his free hand to my shoulders and gently pulled me forward until our lips met. Instantly, I sank into him, my body connecting with his, and recognizing the need for him far too readily. His lips were soft, yielding, and gentle, enticing me, making me hungry for something deeper.
Then, without warning, he slipped out of our embrace.
Breathing heavily, he tucked his head and admitted, “That was far more teasing for me than for them…If I didn’t stop that, I’m not sure anything could have."
Releasing me from his arms, he turned, still trying to clear his head. We started walking again, but now our focus was much more on each other than those around us or our destination.
“I-I think,” he reflected, “I underestimated what you do to me.”
“Good,” I said, playfully.
“Good? Do you know what could have happened there?”
“No, what?” I asked, innocently. I could definitely imagine but would rather hear it from him.
“I could have given them more of a performance than they would have wanted to see, or you would have wanted to show. I could have shown them some very real action…”
I held back a smile at his inadvertent confession. “You-You’re interested in some action?”
Stopping again, he turned to me, an incredulous expression fixed on his handsome face. He sighed then, while laughing at the same time. “Do you know how hard it is to have you sleeping twenty feet away, to listen to your footsteps across
“Examining the new shacks for occupancy space,” he replied, understatedly.
“You’re building an army, aren’t you?”
He leapt across to the next dock before answering.
“Yes, Jocelyn,” he said with unwavering conviction. “I am.”
6 TWO PATHS
The following days were a blur. New arrivals were organized into reconstructing shacks or put to work building new ones. They were taught the village routines, where to find fishing spots, and began meeting their neighbors.
Talk surfaced about the Caldwells and Weatherfords living in such close quarters, but that a truce had also been established. While this alleviated concerns for some, others wondered whether we would pose more of a threat than the Vires, which I found laughable.
Jameson had been correct. Those who escaped the ministry did return to their provinces and recount what happened there. A Caldwell defending a Weatherford was considered breaking news in our world. The fact that the two of them had escaped together caused an even greater stir in the gossip circles. Slowly, it became known that Jameson and I were the ones who defied The Sevens, and any time we left our shack, our presence drew intrigued stares.
As if the challenge to The Sevens weren’t enough, news was spreading about our true identities. At times, I was addressed as Relicuum and Jameson as Nobilis. This brought on an entirely new spectrum of curiosity within the village. If a Weatherford and Caldwell being devoted to each other wasn’t startling enough, The Relicuum and The Nobilis falling in love certainly was.
We disregarded their stares for the most part, but then Jameson called attention to our popularity in a way I couldn’t ignore. It was almost two weeks after the new arrivals began settling in when he muttered, “We have an audience,” as we were heading for dinner one evening.
“We do?”
Following his gaze across the waterway, I saw entire families trying hard not to appear like they were observing us.
Holding back a laugh, I surmised, “We must be dull to watch.”
He stopped suddenly. "That's what you think?"
“Sure. We’re not fighting….”
A mischievous smile crossed his face. “Maybe we should give them a different kind of show….”
I was about to remind him that I wasn’t mad and had absolutely no interest in arguing, when his arms came around my waist and pulled me hard against his hips.
My back naturally arching in response to his force, he brought his free hand to my shoulders and gently pulled me forward until our lips met. Instantly, I sank into him, my body connecting with his, and recognizing the need for him far too readily. His lips were soft, yielding, and gentle, enticing me, making me hungry for something deeper.
Then, without warning, he slipped out of our embrace.
Breathing heavily, he tucked his head and admitted, “That was far more teasing for me than for them…If I didn’t stop that, I’m not sure anything could have."
Releasing me from his arms, he turned, still trying to clear his head. We started walking again, but now our focus was much more on each other than those around us or our destination.
“I-I think,” he reflected, “I underestimated what you do to me.”
“Good,” I said, playfully.
“Good? Do you know what could have happened there?”
“No, what?” I asked, innocently. I could definitely imagine but would rather hear it from him.
“I could have given them more of a performance than they would have wanted to see, or you would have wanted to show. I could have shown them some very real action…”
I held back a smile at his inadvertent confession. “You-You’re interested in some action?”
Stopping again, he turned to me, an incredulous expression fixed on his handsome face. He sighed then, while laughing at the same time. “Do you know how hard it is to have you sleeping twenty feet away, to listen to your footsteps across
Similar Books
