It’s him! My beloved.
I keep my eyes trained on him as he continues to scowl into his mug of ale.
Damn, he’s even more handsome than I remember.
He wears his long black hair tied back, revealing the sharp angles of his face. Torchlight flickers across his features, casting shadows that only highlight the strength of his jawline and the intensity of his gorgeous blue eyes.
His surcoat strains against the muscles of his chest and arms. For a moment, I imagine what it would feel like to be held in those arms, to have those hands on my skin.
The barkeep places a mug of ale in front of me, but I barely notice. Not with Cenric so close.
It’s been six months since I last saw him. Six long, arduous months. He left Astarobane with his brother, Praxis, and now he’s here in Karra.
I glance back at Cenric, and my heart pounds harder when I catch his stare. His eyes widen in recognition. I smile and raise my mug in a silent toast. He nods, the corner of his mouth twitching up in what might be the beginnings of a smile.
I take a long swig of my ale, the bitter liquid warming my throat. Too bad it cannot numb the burning I feel for him, the ache that grows with each passing day.
Slowly, I trace the rim of my mug as I continue to drink him in. It’s a cruel twist of Fate, really. To be born into a family that’s been shunned, cast out like yesterday’s garbage. And for what? Some ridiculous feud that happened summers before I was ever born.
It’s not like I had a choice in the matter. I didn’t ask to be anoutsider. I didn’t ask to wear this damn red circle on my surcoat.
Yet, here I am, stuck on the fringes of society like all of the other outsiders. And the worst part? Knowing that no matter how much I long for Cenric, no matter how much my body aches for his touch, it can never be.
Outsiders marry outsiders. And men like him marry beautiful women who don’t have to wear ugly red circles on their surcoats.
I’ve seen the way the women in Astarobane look at him, with their batting eyelashes and coy smiles. They’d give anything to be on his arm, to bear his children.
And why wouldn’t they? He’s handsome, brave, and loyal. A true warrior in every sense of the word. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted, everything I know I can never have.
“Hello, Everly.”
I jerk my attention to Cenric as he slides into the seat next to me.
Olah, have mercy!
“I...” I swallow and start over. “Hello.”
“What are you doing in Karra?”
“I’m looking for work. Things are tough in Astarobane, and I thought I could find something here to help my family.”
He nods. “I’m sorry to hear that. How is your family doing?”
I shrug, trying to appear nonchalant, even though the mere sound of his voice makes my belly tighten.
Olah is my witness. I could listen to this man talk for hours.
“They’re all right. Kassandra has taken up sewing, and mygrandmother is still telling her stories to anyone who’ll listen. But it’s not easy—being an outsider.”
Something sparks in his eyes. Anger? Frustration?
“I know,” he says softly. “Believe me, I know.”
Does he?
He’s the nephew of the chieftain. He’s never been shunned a day in his life. Still, he has always been empathetic toward me, my family, and other outsiders. Always kind.
However, I don’t want his kindness anymore. I want his mouth on mine!
