Before Him Comes Me (2 page)

Fredrik turns and walks down the path toward the car. Slowly
Zara scans the area creating more mental pictures of a place she will never
visit again. She notices the shade of the green leaves on the tall skinny tree
growing in from the hills, the clarity and level of the water. Closing her
eyes, Zara listens to the sounds the water makes, and the sound of each step on
the gravel underfoot as she begins to back away from her favorite spot for the
last time.

As they walk back to the car, Zara tells Frederik, “Thank
you for today… I will never forget it. Promise.”

Fredrik nods somberly and starts the car.

The drive to the Center is short and silent. As they arrive at
the front door, Zara’s mother darts out of the building and up to the car. “You
are ten minutes late! We have a schedule to keep. Fredrik, please take care of
what I have asked you to. Zara, move… move!”

“Yes, Mother,” Fredrik responds respectfully.

Zara follows one step behind her mother into the Center. The
pair walks up the steps and head directly to the Peach Suite. The mothers
traditionally use this suite to prepare their daughters for the Circle Ceremony.
Front and center, the wedding dress, with its huge princess skirt and layers
upon layers of tulle, is the first thing Zara sees as she enters the suite.

The top layer, covered in carefully spaced crystals, adds an
extra element to capture the light with every step. The corset bodice is made to
fit so tightly that Zara takes a deep breath just looking at it. Once the dress
is on, deep breaths will be out of the question.

Zara notices a shoebox on the chair next to the dress and
slowly walks over. She reaches to pick it up.

“ZARA FAITH!” Zara’s mother shrieks.

Startled, she places the shoebox back on the chair and
rushes to her mother’s side.

“We are in a hurry. Please sit!”

Zara sits immediately and several women descend on her in a
flurry to make her Circle Ceremony ready.

Zara holds perfectly still in every position she is placed
in as she is processed for her pending walk down the aisle. As the last button
is secured on her dress, her mother circles around her to get a full visual. Instructed
to get into her presentation position, Zara lowers to her knees, careful to not
catch any portion of her dress. Sitting back on her heels, she rests her hands
in her lap, one crossed over the other. The ladies apply the final layer of
hairspray and insert the last of the hairpins before leaving Zara and her
mother alone in the suite.

Back on her feet, Zara struggles to regulate her breathing
within the confines of the dress. She gazes into a full-length mirror, alone
with her thoughts. A few hours ago, she woke up in her own bed and now she has been
prepared for a short walk that will change her life forever.

Her mother steps into the reflection behind her. “You look
lovely, Zara Faith. I am very proud of you today. You have taken everything I
have taught you and made it your own. You are ready for whatever is placed in
front of you.”

“Thank you, Mother,” Zara replies in a hushed whisper.

There is a knock at the door as mother and daughter look at each
other one last time. Zara’s gaze returns to her own eyes in the mirror. She
squares her shoulders and takes as deep a shallow breath as she can. Her mother
turns and takes a couple of steps toward the door leading out of the suite.

“Zara Faith, there is one thing I want you to know before
your ceremony. You may not understand, but I love and cherish your father with
all of my heart. It will be difficult today. The traditions work. Trust in them.”

Harder knocks at the door end the mother-daughter moment. Zara
reaches the door first, but knows not to open it. Stepping aside, she waits as her
mother opens it and lowers her gaze. Zara’s father stands on the other side
waiting to gather his daughter for the ceremony.

“It is time!”

The march to the Center Circle is long, each step taking
Zara closer to her unknown future. The weight of the dress presses upon her like
a reminder that her life is not her own and in a very short time, that
ownership will be given to a man who was chosen not just by her father, but by the
council of the Community. Once this man, this stranger, enters the Circle and
places the collar around Zara’s neck, he will become not only her Dom, but her
husband as well.

One step behind her father, Zara carefully places one foot
in front of the other. She passes children dressed in their very best, always
in training and sitting still under the watchful eyes of her Community. Their
eyes are lowered to the white carpet laid specifically for tonight’s ceremony,
but Zara knows from experience that quick peeks are being sneaked as she
strides by.

Zara catches a glimpse of Sloane in a pale blue dress sitting
with all of the other single females of the Community. Zara catches her wink
and sees her cross her fingers in a silent signal of solidarity.

Sloane and Zara had talked about this day for months. With Sloane’s
ceremony only four months after Zara’s, it had been a hot topic. While both were
nervous, Sloane had an air of excitement when she had talked about her
life-changing event while Zara had rued her loss of freedom. Only Sloane knows
Zara would rather be walking down a different path tonight and she would always
keep that secret safe.

Once inside the center of the ceremonial Circle, Zara’s
father turns and places a kiss on each of her cheeks. He does not see the tears
being held at bay. Years of training allow Zara to maintain her line of vision
straight down to the floor in front of her.

He gives the command to take her presentation position. Zara
is well-versed in the steps of the Circle Ceremony. Her position as daughter of
a King Council member has required her attendance at all ceremonies since the
age of five.

Her mother rushes to adjust the gown. There is nothing left
to do but wait for the inevitable. Zara concentrates on breathing. Years of
training have prepared her to maintain her position motionless for as long as
necessary.

In outsiders’ weddings, the attention is on the bride, but
in the Circle Ceremony, it is squarely placed on the Dom and his family. The
Dom and his family are the unknown in the ceremony. While the submissive and
her family are from the local Community, the distance the Dom travels can vary
from across the state to across the country.

Sloane had attempted to figure out the criteria once. She
quizzed Fredrik when he returned from one of his ‘Pre-Dom’ retreats, as Sloane liked
to refer to them. All he would say is, it depended on the strength of the King
Council network in the region and the reputation of the candidate’s family.

A rustling in the hall alerts Zara to the entrance of her
future family. The whispers amongst the guests follow him as he walks down the
white carpet.

Exploring the surroundings within her peripheral vision,
Zara is careful not to stir from her statuesque position. Her eyes lift to the
table where the collar rests, waiting to be placed around her neck.

The collar is clasped. Zara sees no key. Her heart skips a
beat.

Something is wrong.

Her eyes frantically scan the table. Her mother clears her
throat and she knows she has been caught in the slightest change in
orientation.

Breathe. Just breathe.

Her mind is racing.

Why is the collar locked? Where
is the key? Think.

In all the past ceremonies Zara had attended, the collar lay
open. The open collar is the symbol of the Council’s approval of the match
between the first-born daughter of a Council member and the son of a Council
member from a different sect. The key to the collar is the symbol of ownership
for the first-born’s daughter by her Dom. The history of this ceremony requires
the collar to be unlocked, the key ready to be presented to the Dom.

When one’s life has been filled with inevitability,
processing surprises becomes difficult. Zara’s mind sifts through all of the
ceremonies that she has attended, fast-forwarding to the point when the open
collar is picked up and placed around the “birthday girl’s” neck. In every memory,
the collar is lying open before it is picked up.

Zara’s breathing becomes labored. All thoughts of the collar
evaporate as someone steps into the center of the circle.

Shoes
.

What can be determined about a man, a Dom-to-be, by his
polished, square-toed black shoes?

Nothing
.

The dress restricts any attempts at taking a deep cleansing
breath, so Zara tries employing a technique taught during years of training to
settle her thoughts. The curiosity to sneak a peek at the man now standing next
to her becomes an overwhelming challenge destroying her control.

The need to look at his face begins to vibrate through her
entire body. Moving would bring her mother’s throat clearing and a definite
lecture the moment they are alone later at the celebration. Zara tries another
deep breath in an attempt to settle. It doesn’t work.

Discovering what he looks like
will not change my future.

The hall quiets as the Master of Ceremonies steps into the
circle. Zara’s shoulders fall. This is her final moment of freedom.

A hand comes to rest on Zara’s shoulder and a moment later she
hears her mother suck in all of the oxygen in the hall. With all the strength she
can summon, Zara keeps her eyes locked on the floor directly in front of her,
ignoring the weight of the fingers pressing down on her.

“Please. Open it. Read it.” The quiet plea in his voice
mesmerizes her.

Wait! What am I supposed to
be doing? This is not how I remember any of the other Ceremonies.

“Zara, please read the letter.”

He lightly taps her shoulder. The envelope is at eye level
and there is no mistaking what he wants. Slowly, she reaches for the envelope
and brings it down to read without raising her eyes.

Dear Zara Faith Evans:

Congratulations on your admission to Michigan State University
and welcome to the Spartan Family.

Confused, Zara rereads the first sentence of the letter.

Michigan State University? My name is clearly on the letter. But…
how?

“I don’t understand,” she says in a whisper more to herself
than to him or anyone around.

“Zara.”

For the very first time, Zara raises her eyes to look at the
man who is to become her inevitable future. Before she can stop herself, Zara gasps
at seeing his face.

He is more attractive than expected with his large brown
eyes, high round cheeks and strong square chin. There is a sense of warmth
behind his eyes as Zara’s eyes meet his. Even the sound of her mother’s
threatening throat clearing cannot break their eye contact.

“ZARA FAITH!”

There is no mistaking her Mother’s harsh tone and her streak
of disobedience is broken. Returning her gaze to the spot on the floor, Zara’s
hands tremble making the paper shake. She tries to take another deep breath. Gently
the letter is removed from her hand, is refolded and slid out of sight.

The magnitude of Zara’s disobedience has far exceeded a mild
lecture at the celebration. She begins to feel lightheaded. The responsibility which
her position demands within her family is clear. She closes her eyes and tucks
her chin into proper submission.

“Mr. Evans, I would like to speak to your daughter privately
for a few minutes. After this display, I am sure you will give me a bit of
latitude.”

Without hesitation, Zara’s father takes a couple of steps
back allowing the two strangers to speak privately.

The entire hall gasps in unison and Zara’s eyes fly open
wide to find her Dom-to-be kneeling in front of her. In a voice only Zara can
hear, he begins to speak.

“I am not your Dom. I am not your husband. I have an offer
for you. We can walk out of this Circle as a collared couple and begin our
lives like both of our parents before us and their parents before them. Or, we
can leave this Circle in a new way. I will be here every step of the way to
take care of all your needs while you attend college.

“You can use this time to discover who you are and what you
want. It is my sincere hope that four years from tonight you will again be
waiting for me within the Center Circle, that at such time, you will be ready
to complete the ceremony freely. Whether or not you are in the Circle waiting
for me in four years will be your choice and only your choice. I know this is not
as you were trained, but we have a very tight window to make this work. I need
you to nod… if you wish for me to take you away to college.”

Though too shocked to process everything that is happening, Zara
understands this is the only way out of a life she has had no design in
choosing for herself.

She nods.

Straightening to his full height, he extends his large hand and
helps her to her feet. Zara is shaky and realizes again, she does not know what
to expect. She finds her mother’s eyes and stares into them attempting to
convey love and her need to take this unexpected opportunity.

“Aubrey.”

Zara’s father ends the silent communication between them, the
tone making it clear what is expected of her. Zara’s mother’s eyes drop to the
ground directly in front of her and she slowly lowers herself into the kneeling
position that her father’s tone demands. There would be no point in hoping for
more eye contact with her mother. She is no longer Zara’s mother. She is now her
father’s slave.

Addressing Zara’s father, the man at Zara’s side says, “I
would like for my mother to have five minutes with this submissive before we
make this official. Protocols are important where I come from. I am sure you
understand.”

“Of course,” her father replies. “I am confident that you
will find Zara Faith’s training satisfactory. We would be happy to give you
five minutes to ensure you are getting the best possible submissive.”

Thankful she had followed her instinct on not eating earlier,
Zara swallows hard at being addressed as if she is livestock to be traded at
auction. With his hand still clasping hers, he leads Zara out of the Circle, passing
the collar that Zara had been prepared her entire life to wear. With her eyes
still cast down, Zara passes her mother in her kneeling position with her arms
crossed behind her back, her eyes affixed to the floor in front of her.

They quickly walk past everyone: the King Council members,
Doms with their subs, Masters with their slaves and the section of unattached
males and females that are whispering fiercely as they pass. Together, they are
walking away from everyone and everything that Zara knows.

“Son?”

Pausing to address the soft-spoken query, a beautiful dress
steps to join them and form a small circle of three. Zara never lifts her eyes
to look at anyone’s face.

“This is it. Do not stop until you are on the plane. Zara,
this is a big decision. Are you positive about this?”

Zara gives the slightest nod and with that unspoken signal,
everyone parts ways. Pulled to an exit at a near run, they reach the door to
the outside of the building in record time. Zara notes how unusual it is not to
have staff present to open the door for them at a formal event, that the abrupt
change in schedule has altered the routine.

He reaches to open the door and releases her hand. The
absence of his hand unsettles her just as his first contact only minutes
earlier had. Not knowing what to do with her hand, Zara lifts the dress and
steps through the opening he provides.

His hand finds the small of her back and rests there, his warmth
seeping through the dress. Tingles shoot to every part of her body as he guides
her towards a limo parked just a few feet from the door.

An older gentlemen steps out of the driver’s side and quickly
opens the back door. With a friendly smile, they work together to tuck all the
layers of the dress into the car. Once inside, the two men stand outside the
car and speak together briefly.

Before Zara’s mind gets an opportunity to start processing
the events inside the building, he climbs onto the seat beside her, lifting the
wayward layers of the dress to avoid sitting on them. Without fanfare, the car
pulls away from the curb. The man beside her takes out a cellphone and makes a
call.

“Yes. Fine. Hopefully, the beach, but if not, in town. No.
No. I understand. Peter has already notified them. There won’t be any delays. I
will. Okay. Okay.”

Hanging up, he sighs. His head rests against the back of the
seat as he tucks the phone back into his jacket pocket. Not knowing where they
are going or what tomorrow will bring, Zara sits silently waiting to be
addressed. It is how she watched her mother live her life and how she had been
prepared to live her own as well.

The boning in the dress is making breathing difficult at her
angle. The night’s plan had not included a car ride. The dress was only meant
to be worn for the Circle Ceremony. Once the collar was secured and the vows
exchanged, Zara would have walked through the Dom’s door having removed all the
clothing of her past life, including her wedding dress. Zara would have been
redressed in clothing of his choosing and assisted by his mother, then finally,
she would have exited out of the ceremony hall through his door.

“Zara, it’s going to be okay.”

Startled, Zara jumps when his words break the silence. She
nods and keeps her face schooled with the same half smile that she has worn
since arriving at the Center several hours ago.

When the car stops, Zara carefully surveys her surroundings.
Surprised to find they are parked a few feet away from a plane, she stiffens. The
car door opens from the outside and the man sitting next to her exits. Once out
of the car, he extends his hand back in to assist Zara and her dress out. Her
exit is far less graceful.