Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 121153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
I rushed forward, crawling to sit by his side. My eyes drank him in again, the sight of his face, hair and beard tricking my mind to run. My eyes tried to tell me this was the wicked Prophet Cain that had touched me and hit me so violently. But my heart . . . my heart told me this was a confused and battered soul that needed comfort.
Needed something and someone to be real . . . to be there for him.
I lifted a shaking hand and found Rider’s. He flinched as I touched him. By the way he blinked his tears away and looked at me in shock, I knew he had not seen or heard me approach. Without breaking his gaze, I turned his hand over and threaded my fingers through his. I watched as Rider’s scared and timid face was masked in confusion. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed in trepidation. His gaze fell from my face to land on our joined hands. I felt him squeeze them, as though testing I was truly there.
He closed his eyes, savoring the touch. The closeness. I let him have this moment. I studied him, feeling butterflies fluttering in my stomach. He had called me beautiful, but I could only think the same about him. His brown eyes and long dark hair were mesmerizing. His body was built to protect—hard and strong. But what I loved most when I looked into his gaze was the kindness it held.
He is good, you must remember that. No matter what. He is not a bad man. He is like us, beaten down and confused by how we were raised . . . but he is good . . .
The sister’s words played in my head. She had known who he was. She had known that he was the prophet.
Rider let out an agonized moan. I held his hand tighter, as he opened his mouth and said, “I tried to kill him, Harmony . . . ” Sympathetic tears ran down my cheeks. I had never heard someone so in pain, so broken and lost. “I tried to kill my brother to save you . . . to save us all . . . ” He took a deep breath. “To save you . . . from the wedding . . . ”
I stilled, the air fleeing my lungs. “What?” I said in disbelief.
“I could see what the thought of marrying him was doing to you.” Rider shook his head. “I know him, Harmony. I know what your life with him will look like—hell. Every day by his side will be pure hell. And the ceremony . . . what you will have to do in front of the people to seal your vow . . . ”
“So . . . so you tried to kill him? For me?”
My heart clenched. I had to marry the prophet . . . but he had tried to save me from that fate. My God . . . My guilt ran thick and strong.
Rider nodded, and the last ounce of strength he had in his beaten body faded away. He slumped farther back against the wall and his grip on my hand slackened.
“Rest,” I said, bringing my free hand to his face. Before I realized what I had done, I had run a finger down his cheek, the tip stopping at his full pink lips. Rider’s eyes locked on mine. I tried to breathe, but the air suddenly felt too thick and hot to try.
Rider took his free hand and brought it to my finger on his lips. Ducking his gaze, I gasped when I felt him kiss my finger, gently . . . a light, butterfly kiss.
Heat flooded my cheeks, my inexperience infusing my veins with nerves. But I could not take my eyes from Rider’s mouth on my finger. I was mesmerized. Warmth filled my every muscle. Rider pulled back his mouth, only to use his grip on my hand to pull me closer, my chest moving to hover over his.
My heart beat a loud drumming rhythm. I felt Rider’s heart beating just as loudly and quickly below mine. Rider licked along his lips, tracing the outline of my own with his finger.
“Have . . . ” he began, his voice low and raspy. He cleared his throat. “Have you ever been kissed before, Harmony?”
Finding my lost voice, I answered, “No. Curseds are never kissed. Our taste and touch is thought to taint a pure soul. To corrupt a saint into a sinner. To capture a heavenly soul for the devil to collect.”
Rider’s eyebrows drew together. “I am a sinner, Harmony. If your kiss damns pure hearts, then it is too late to affect mine.”
Rider’s mouth moved toward me and I let him take the lead. I had no idea what I was doing, but I wanted to try. In that moment I wanted it more than anything else. Rider was the first man to ever make me want anything remotely close to affection . . .