Into the Light (The Light, #1)(46)

I hadn’t chosen Sara as my wife; then again, I hadn’t refused her. That wasn’t even possible. If I had, all that I’d accomplished and learned would have been lost. For me to succeed, she needed to as well. As we stood silent, apart from her occasional ragged breaths, for minutes upon minutes, she wrapped in my arms, I resolved that though the stakes were high, I was all in. She hadn’t asked for this nor did she know how she’d complicated my mission, but she was here, and if this was what I needed to do for both of us to succeed, I would.

Sara’s trembling finally calmed, yet her shoulders continued to quake with each broken gasp. Looking to the mirror, I saw the long unfettered ringlets of gold that flowed around her face and over my arms. No longer was her hair secured in the braid she’d woven this morning. Now it cascaded down her back, swaying slightly with each breath. I worked to keep my eyes on her hair and not look lower, but my gaze was pulled to the horror and evidence of my punishment—the reminders—I’d left behind. Five distinctively long, angry welts crisscrossed her firm round bottom and extended below onto her toned upper thighs. With the bathroom lighting, the redness glowed in stark contrast to the paleness of her complexion.

My chest continued to dampen as her tears soaked my shirt. Rubbing her bare back gently up and down, I stayed conscious of her skin and mindful to keep my large hand from straying to where it’d been marked. I’d caused her enough pain. In the three weeks since her arrival and incident, she’d begun to heal. My chest ached with the knowledge that her beautiful skin was once again spoiled, and this time I was responsible.

Each time I started to move, she burrowed closer, settling herself not only under my skin, but deeper into my heart. My body reacted as any man’s would to the closeness of a naked woman, but I knew it wasn’t time. Sara needed comfort, not sex. If we came together now, she’d forever associate sex with punishment, and when the time came, that wasn’t what I wanted nor did I want it to be sex. When the time was right, I wanted to make love to the woman in my arms.

My belt lay curled on the tile floor by our feet, like a snake ready to strike. Its vile venom had hurt Sara, soaking into her flesh and causing her agony. If it had been a real snake, I’d have ripped its head from its long coiled body. Its fangs would no longer strike, and she’d be able to sleep soundly knowing the danger was gone. But that wouldn’t happen. To her the danger was me. She didn’t understand the levels and powers at work in our lives. She could never know the true danger that lurked around each corner. The only way to keep her safe was to stay on course. Her only objective was to embrace Sara and become Sara. Her conformity to The Light was the only means of saving her.

“Sara,” I said, lifting her chin and seeing the blotches of red on her cheeks and neck. “We need to get ready. Raquel went home to prepare for service, so I’m going to cover your cast and put you in a warm shower.” The way her body tensed, I knew what she was thinking. “The warm water will sting at first, but with time it’ll make your welts feel better. I also have some ointment that you’ve said helped in the past.”

My words were a grave. With each statement about the past we’d never shared I dug deeper and deeper.

She nodded against my shirt, and then, as if remembering to speak, she said, “If you say so.”

I kissed her hair. “I do. I also think we should change your bandages around your eyes. Dr. Newton said it’s not good to allow them to stay damp.”

“All right.” Her shoulders sagged while her voice carried a faraway tone, like a sad melody that had lost its zeal. I wanted obedience, not a lifeless zombie. Somehow I had to discover the way to help her find that place of contentment, the place where she was safe and happy and in accordance with Father Gabriel’s Light.

I directed her to sit on the closed toilet. As she did, I remembered finding her there before . . . before I’d broken her. When her sore bottom connected with the cool seat, her lower lip disappeared between her teeth. It took every ounce of control I had not to fall to my knees and beg for her forgiveness. I couldn’t. According to The Light this was her doing, not mine.

“I’m going to wrap your cast first,” I said once she was settled.

“Does everyone go to service?”

I didn’t know if she was trying to get her mind on other things, but if so, I’d gladly help. “Yes,” I replied. “This is a big community. We all have jobs, but Sunday and Wednesday service are the only time that all jobs stop. Well, except for the powerhouse; that can’t stop.”

“Pow—” She stopped herself, then rephrased. “May I ask what that is?”

She is learning.

“It’s what it sounds like. It’s the place where hydropower turns turbines. They then work generators that supply power to our entire community.”

“Like water?”

“Yes, though wind would work, it’d be more visible and less predictable. As long as the river flows, we have power.”

“Will you tell me where we are, or is that something I need to wait to learn?”

I finished securing the plastic around her cast, reached for her hand, and helped her stand. Though it had to feel better to stand, she still grimaced with the movement. “Like I said before, we came here together, you and I. You knew where we were coming since before we arrived. You knew we were moving to the Northern Light, in Far North, Alaska.”