MARKS- Chapter 29

Chapter Twenty-Nine

I’m such a mess this evening, I nearly dump the contents of my plate into my lap. My body sags with exhaustion, first beaten by Ward’s anger, then slammed by the look on his face when he saw my marks. I’ve never confessed my kills to anyone, and my lips still blaze with heat and have swollen from the kisses we took from one another. My insides feel as though they’ve been scrubbed raw and left on a line to drip dry.

I toss and turn in my sleep, my thoughts finding nowhere to settle but on Ward, and that sends enough adrenaline through me I could probably go out and move the cavern with my own two hands.

Ward stirs beside me, jostling me from my dreams. I rise up on my elbow, but he gently pushes me down. “Go back to sleep,” he whispers. He plants a kiss on my forehead, and I can’t stop myself from grinning. “I’ll be back tonight.”

Morning comes, and though I’ve slept only a little, my body thrums with energy. Blair is bent not over the stove, but over Nolan, spooning broth into his mouth. Relief cracks me open even further. He doesn’t leave his bed all morning, but there’s a tinge of normal color in his cheeks. He spends the morning teasing his kids and letting Blair fuss over him.

When I bring him a cup of water after lunch, he pulls me into a hug. “Thank you, Gretta. You risked much for me.”

“No more than you all have for me.”

He smiles as Liddy climbs onto the bed beside him. He gives me a wink before turning his attention to her.

Acceptance is a funny thing. I’ve craved it like water my entire life, and now that I have it, I don’t know what to do with it. Ward surely told Nolan about me, but he treats me no different. Really, none of them do.

I’ve already offered to write words for their papers, but both Nolan and Ward forbid me to do it. For one, with the guards being on to me, my name will be more recognizable. And second: now that I’ve gone missing, if my name starts showing up in papers the King gets his hands on, then they’ll come search for me, and put us all in danger. Especially Ward.

So now I’m just here. Not Gretta Marks with her power and history. Simply Gretta, who dyes and braids Liddy’s hair and will never learn to cook well. Gretta with family. Gretta with Ward.

Dinner comes and goes, and while I wash the dishes I can’t stop watching the tunnel entrance.

“You expecting someone?” Blair asks.

I dip my head and concentrate on the dishes. “No, just lost in thought.” Thoughts of your brother, and his lips and the way he felt when he pressed me to him last night. The corners of my mouth quirk up. Blast you, lips! Contain yourself.

That is not what I’ll be telling them tonight.

“Ward!” Liddy shouts his name and runs to him.

I nearly drop the pot I’m holding because it seems my body and mind cannot both function when Ward is in the room. His eyes shoot across the room to mine, and I might as well be a sack of flour for all the good I’ll be able to do while he’s here. I grin like an idiot then have the good sense to bite my lip and look away.

He does no more than nod to me. It’s like a dance, both of us eyeing each other, watching the movements of the other, but unable to say a word for fear someone else will know. And this is a secret I cherish. One that thrills me and buoys me. Who knew secrets could be so delicious and nourishing? Mine have always starved my soul. But not Ward.

The storyteller for tonight takes his place just as I set the last dish to dry. Everyone settles down around the fire. Ward stands against the wall. I hover around the edge of the circle, loathe to sit down without him near me but worried he’ll plop down beside me and I won’t be able to contain myself. I busy myself with nothing at all, avoiding eye contact with anyone.

I glance up and Ward catches my eye. He nods to the springs. Forget sitting by me; he wants to be alone with me. I dip my head in understanding, and a second later he disappears down the tunnel where the papers are. The one that connects to the springs.

My stomach flutters. I snatch a towel from the stack. “I’m going to take a bath,” I whisper to Blair.

I don’t even wait to hear her response. I grab the fabric from the wall as I walk down the tunnel, letting it fall to the ground to let everyone know it’s occupied.

They won’t know it’s occupied by both of us.

When I reach the end of the tunnel, the empty room and its silence are the only things awaiting me. I put my towel on a rock then crouch down next to the spring’s edge. I dip my finger in and trace letters on the surface of the water.

“What are you writing?”

I look over my shoulder where Ward walks toward me. “Nothing. Just words without meaning.” I stand and suddenly feel amiss being with him. He caught my eye and nodded here. I know he wanted me to come, but still I bite my lip, unsure what to do. What I want if for him to kiss me. Skies above, how I want him to kiss me.

Ward grabs the hem of his shirt and in one motion lifts it over his head.

Oh Saints, he wants more than to kiss me.

I take a step back, but Ward catches my hand in his. “Not that.” He nods to the water. “Come swim with me.” He takes off his boots and wades in, his pants still on.

I watch his back disappear under water before my body finds its wits and I can move. He’s asked me to swim and while it is an innocent activity, an invitation to be with him doing anything is so intimate I blush before my fingers even reach for my laces. I tug at where they are tied behind my back. The laces are done up tight, blast them, and barely shift when I pull at my dress. Come on, fingers. I don’t dare tell Ward I need help. Undressing in front of him is one thing. Having him help me undress is a destination far down the road, if it exists at all.

Ward isn’t looking, and I smile. Even here, swimming with a girl, he’s chivalrous. Finally, my laces loosen enough I can shrug out of my dress. I lay it across the rock with my towel. I remove the ribbon from the end of my braid, then wind my hair up on top of my head and secure it there. Then I turn toward the water.

The room is humid and warm as always, but still I shiver in my shift. Goose bumps prickle my arms while at the same time a blazing heat flames to life in my cheeks. Once my toes hit the water, I look up and find Ward not only smiling but with his arm stretched out to me. I walk deeper into the water, and when I reach him he catches my hand in his and tugs me to him.

I drift in the water, coming to a stop in front of him. He drops my hand and places both of his on the side of my face, and finally, finally, he kisses me. The same heat from last night explodes inside me. I plant my lips firm to his, and don’t fumble with my thoughts or my body. All I can think about is Ward, and wanting more Ward. I step closer to him and urge my lips to do more. Saints above. One night of kissing and suddenly I feel like I’m an expert. My hands skim over Ward’s sides and his hands glide over my bare shoulders. Between the warmth of the springs and the heat I feel in my veins, the room is surely on fire.

Ward stops kissing me and grins. “That was the longest shift I’ve ever had,” he says. “All day I was thinking of you and dying to get back to you.”

I hold up my hand, a fresh blistered mark running along the back of it. “I burnt my hand twice today because I was so distracted.”

He laughs, and the joy bubbling out of me is exquisite, like chocolate the first time you taste it. “Come on.” Ward breaks into a swim.

I don’t know what sorcery Ward possesses, but I follow without a moment’s hesitation. And would probably follow him to the gates of hell itself without so much as a glance behind me.

When we reach the edge of the spring, Ward stands and raises his eyebrows. “Want to race?”

“All right.” I plant my feet on the rocky bottom, ready to push off. “On three?”

Ward nods. “One, two.”

He dives in before the next number is spoken. Blasted cheater. I want to scream it at him but don’t dare for fear my words will bounce off the walls and announce to everyone in the main room that I’m not alone. Instead, I take a deep breath and dive in after him.

My head breaks the surface, and Ward is more than halfway across the springs. When he’s within a few strokes, I cry out and sink down, clutching my foot as a grimace of pain takes over my face. I gasp and bite my lip, keeping a moan at bay.

Ward rushes to me. “What happened? Did you cut your foot?”

I turn to him and while he is worried and fretful, take hold of his shoulders and dunk him under the water. I hold him there long enough to plant my feet in his ribs and shove off. By the time he emerges, I’m halfway to the edge.

And still he beats me.

My face is slack with outrage, but he takes me in his arms. “I could never let you get away from me, Gretta.”

His voice drips with both sarcasm and truth. Sweet, blessed truth: I don’t ever want to be away from him. He wraps his arms around my waist and draws me to him. I wrap my legs around him, the water and my joy a buoy that keeps me upright against him.

Ward presses his face close to mine. “I don’t ever want to let you go, Gretta.” He looks at me, eyes full of a lifetime of pain and an eternity of hope.

There’s nothing between us now but a slip of warm water and the thin cotton of my shift. How funny that even so exposed, I’ve never felt so covered and protected. I raise my hands to brush the stubble on Ward’s chin. Then I kiss him. A kiss that says more than my words ever could. Not words of unending devotion and loyalty. But an echo of his own words and ones of a promise to throw myself into this just as he is. To trust him with me.

Ward tightens his arms around me. I rest my head against his chest. His heart beats sure and solid; a steady cadence I could mark my life by. He doesn’t do anything else. No assumptions or expectations or wandering hands. Just his arms around me as if I’m the only thing in life that matters.

And that’s when I know: Ward's what matters most to me.