The Sifting

The Sifting

Covenant Series, Book
2

Azure Boone

Copyright © August 2013 by Azure Boone

All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Azure Boone. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

Cover Artist: Azure Boone

This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Warning

This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Azure Boone’s e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

* * * *

DISCLAIMER: Please do not try any new sexual practice, especially those that might be found in this book without the guidance of an experienced practitioner. Azure Boone will not be responsible for any loss, harm, injury or death resulting from use of the information contained in this title.

Dedication

For my husband.

Acknowledgments

I’d like to thank my immediate family for enduring through the creation of yet another story. My
best friend Kenra Daniels and writing partner for her awesome help. My other best friend Gloria Esau for all the amazing support and help she tirelessly gives. To my other best friend Barbie Shannon for being there when I need her for anything and everything. To all my readers, I love the support.

A special shout out to Kim
Rhym you’re like on the field running wide open toward the end zone, thanks for being there to help score that touchdown, it’s team work like that, that makes this profession worth the passion. 

And now for God.
As always, He gets His very own paragraph. I thank Him most of all, my constant strength, wisdom, and courage, as I endeavor to obey the call I believe He’s given me:

“Make a doorway in every dungeon.”

Chapter One

Sarah
investigated every angle of the balcony. For about ten feet down, there were hunks of stone she could maybe use to climb down but the remaining hundred would require wings.

She
spun at the sound of the door opening. Listening, she made out wheels rolling. Their dinner on a cart maybe. Clenching her fists rapidly to force circulation, she took several calming breaths and prepared to engage with a sick patient, not the man she was in love with. She had to remember that, could not ever forget it if she wanted to succeed.

With feigned grace, she glided out of the bathroom in the lovely lavender evening gown
, becoming the fairytale he’d apparently envisioned for her. She would use it all to gain the upper hand. And yet every fiber of her being refused to say it would all be okay. It said the exact opposite. Why now? Why not tell her that before she got in the damn car with him? That was the niggler, the one thing left to be learned. Why didn’t her so called divine gift protect her? None of it was making sense. Which meant she needed to figure that out along with unravelling his sick and illogical need for her soul.

When she entered the room, s
he froze, her insides dancing with mixed emotions at finding Micah leaning over a huge fireplace. He’d changed his clothes. He was now shirtless with only black slacks. She’d never seen anything so mouthwatering. Until he straightened and turned. Dear God. Soft firelight licked at the hard lines of his body. Her pulse hammered in response to the ravenous gaze he swept over her. Judging by the tingle in her nipples and between her legs, desire would be her greatest foe. She needed to keep utter control of that. Dear God again.

He
approached with that ghost stride and Sarah couldn’t take her eyes off of his scars, torn between wanting to kiss and lick every single one of them, and dreading. Why in God’s name hadn’t the demonic symbol raised her hackles? She tried to recall an alarm, a muted alarm, but all that she remembered was the compassion they invoked. If there had been any warning bell whatsoever, it had drowned in her estrogen.

In the
sensual light, his skin glowed like the finest spun silk, belying the raw power rippling just beneath it with every slight move he made. At six inches before her, she inhaled him, an erotic mixture of Micah and cologne that engaged a hunger in her pores to taste and devour. She swayed, intoxicated.

Without warning,
he took her face between his hands and kissed her. It wasn’t just a kiss, it was an outright war on her senses. His tongue tasted of sweet wine and commanded her body with an aggression she’d not seen in him.
Give it to me to taste, all of you, right now, don’t you dare deny me.

He reduced her to desperate moans as she clung to his neck. Sliding her fingers into his thick sandy hair, the warmth of his scalp added to the fire licking in her belly and core. It wasn’t a fire that needed quenching, but feeding. To be consumed by it.

His mouth left hers, hot groans descending to her neck
. Sarah pressed her body into his, his head closer, wanting him to take her. Take all of her in that instant. God, she couldn’t do that, she’d be lost along with all her logic and reasoning—her only remaining arsenal.

His breath left him in a rush
, and he lifted her. He stood with her, cradled in his arms, their gazes locked. In the haunted depths of those green eyes, he was there. The Micah that she fell in love with.

She was suddenly
being laid down in the bed. He knelt next to her and she remained frozen, like a deer in the headlights. His gaze, filled with raw desire and awe, roamed over her. “You’re so very beautiful.” The ragged and hoarse words were engulfed in agony.

She
swallowed, fighting for an opening in her own body, her enemy. “Can we talk?”

“I need you
,” he whispered, locking his gaze onto hers.

S
he sat up, suddenly claustrophobic in her head with his words and what her body insisted she do to help him. It would be much easier to meet one of those needs. What was she thinking? No. Absolutely, no.

****

Micah stared at her. To take her virginity before her renouncement was a huge violation of tradition. But in this case, he saw no other choice at the moment. Binding her to him would help his cause in a way that she desperately needed. Getting her to need him in such a way that nothing else mattered to her. Not even her god. He much preferred this method than any others. He also would surely die if he didn’t make love to her right then.

He
was enraptured with what he saw in the clear depths of her gaze. Desire, passion, love. But there was something missing. He pulled back and studied her, not liking the absent ingredient. Trust. He pulled away a little more. She didn’t trust him.

The realization was a
n iceberg smashing into hell. It crashed right into his inferno of desire and he stood and put his back to her, not wanting her to see the turmoil. One, he shouldn’t be having it. What the fuck did having her trust have to do with anything? The idea that something like that would become an
issue
with him was as ridiculous as it was dangerous. He couldn’t afford to become weak with her. Not now, not at this stage.

Part of him wanted to just stand there and feel it. Bask in it. The pain. The pain meant many things
, all of which were not good and yet fascinating. Yes, he could admit to wanting this woman in ways he’d not ever wanted a woman in his life. It wasn’t her beauty, her body, not even her mind, it was much deeper. It was her…purity. Purity that had nothing to do with her sexual experience or lack of it. It had everything to do with…her ability to see things. Deep things. Her ability to step beyond his barriers with a smile, a soft touch. Or word.

He loved it. More than he understood
, more than he ever should.

The utterly stupid thing was how the presence of re
al fear in her eyes affected him. Fucking crushing. He needed to be superman again.

“Micah?”

He turned and slowly headed back to the bed. “My name isn’t Micah.” He sat next to her, close enough to smell the lingering scent of her desire. He stroked her face with a finger. “My name is Seven.”

Chapter Two

Sarah swallowed, clutching the covers a little.
He’d just opened up session with one hell of an assignment.

She regarded his
face, a mask of casual control. “As in the number?”

“Yes. As in the number.”

Though she was sure it was a façade, his silky tone was better than anger. He’d made his opening move, and Sarah cleared her throat a little to make hers. “I love you Micah.” 

He stared at her
for several seconds then tilted his head. “Do you,” he muttered softly. He liked the sound of her theory but clearly doubted it and planned to test it.

That was good. S
he could prove that theory much easier than the God one. But mostly, it was putting into play the key piece in healing the source of this soul requirement delusion. She hoped.

“And w
ill you…renounce god?”

She shook her head. “
I will not. And that has nothing to do with me loving you.”

H
e lowered his head and chuckled a little. “You must Sarah.”

Fear s
lithered through her veins at his soft non-negotiable tone. “You cannot force that, Micah.”

“I know.”
Regret filled his whisper. But it was the kind of regret that would make them both sorry.

“Wh
at does me believing in God have anything to do with me loving you?”

“It doesn’t.”

The surprising answer and nonchalance in his tone threw her off course. “Then why can’t I have my faith, and love you Micah? Help me understand.” She stroked his arm, trying to invoke his emotions that seemed to be missing in action.

He leveled intense green eyes on her.
“Do you have any idea what your god has done to me, Sarah.”

She swallowed and
decided to take the God plunge, since he clearly would have it no other way. “What has he done to you sweet heart?”

“He punished me for who I am.”

“And…who are you?”

“I’m Seven.
The number of perfection.”

“
And why would he punish you for that?”

He sighed, as though tired of it all.
“Because he’s jealous.” 

“So…because you’re perfect, he is jealous?”

He stood quickly, agitation in his movements. “Jealousy is his middle name, he’s a very jealous god, you should know this.”

“I…I do know this.”

“And you’re okay with serving a jealous god?”

He paused to nail her with a curious gaze.
Sarah thought about the question and not about how beautiful he was, standing there in his perfectly marred skin, glowing in various places where the evening light from the windows hit him. “I can understand jealousy. Wanting what is rightfully mine. I wouldn’t want another to take my place with you, I know that.”

He appeared puzzled
and maybe annoyed. “How does that concept apply to god?”

Her
gaze slipped from his and lowered over his body, a quick peek before ending at her lap. “If He created everything then…”

“He wants to be worshipped by
everything then.”

“Well maybe not worshipped in the sense that most think.”

He paced slowly around the bed and stopped at the foot, putting the evening sun at his back until he stood like a fading shadow. “Explain yourself.”

Sh
e pulled her legs in and sat with them crossed beneath the puddle of soft purple silk. She chewed at her lower lip, thinking of the right words. “He wants…your love so that…”

“
My love,” he muttered, like it was the most ridiculous of words.

“Your devotion. Your heart.”

“Why?”

“To guard it, protect it, keep it safe.”

She strained to make out his expression before he lowered his head. “Now that…is a very interesting twist. I’m pretty sure I’ve never heard it put that way before.” Like she were spinning another version of a fairytale.

“
What does any of it have to do with my love for you?”

He
moved to stand near the glass doors and looked out. Sarah took in his appearance at this different angle, suddenly wishing she were an artist or photographer. “It has everything to do with it.”

“Like?”

“Like how all powerful he is and yet doesn’t use it when He should.”

“
Well…did you consider that maybe there are times and reasons he doesn’t use it because…it’s better if he doesn’t?”

He turned.
“Better for who?”

“For us
, of course.”

“
Oh, of course.”

“Well, I don’t see how any of it would
affect him seeing as he holds all the power, Micah.”

He gave her that head tilt again. “
And when a boy cries because his mommy and daddy is hurting him, your god thinks it’s better to not intervene?”

Sarah stared at him, her chest clenching
at hearing the casual way he spoke of his abuse. But she knew very deep down, it hurt him. He’d learned to escape that pain, numb himself to it. “Sometimes I think he’d like to intervene but…can’t.”

“Can’t,” he said,
sounding unimpressed. “That wouldn’t make him all powerful, then would it?”

“It would make him obligated to follow certain laws he’s created.”

“God? Obligated?”

“If he’s to be a just God, he would follow all laws to the letter.”

Micah, gasped and rubbed his brow, turning to pace a few steps. “I’m sorry, I’m… not sure which word to choke on first. The
just
one is a real gagger. According to you, your
just
God, who isn’t affected by anything one way or another, follows his own laws to the letter, regardless of who
unjustly
suffers and dies, all because he loves us. It makes perfect sense.”

“
It does affect him, he loves us.”

“
He loves us?” He’d made his way to the side of the bed and paced there. “And you know this by how many people he lets suffer and die unjustly?”

She shook her head. “I don’t understand it all
, Micah. I only know that…if he came and died for us to be free, then…there must be a reason, an explanation to all the whys that seem unjust.”

He stopped and stared at her
, again an incredulous look on his face.
“If
he came and died for us is a point worth discussing, then after we’d want to discuss
there
must
be a reason why he lets some suffer and die while he saves others.”

“
Micah,” she began, softly. “This is a faith issue. I understand that…from your standpoint, God is guilty of many things. But…you cannot insist I believe differently any more than I can insist you believe differently. You have to allow people to have their religious convictions, just as I allow you to have yours. To insist they renounce them is…not a legal right any individual has.” Sarah silently prayed that reminding him of the reality would wake him up to what he was suggesting, help him see how ludicrous it was, and not normal. Sick. And especially illegal.

“So that’s it,
the doctor is tossing all logic and reasoning into the wind with her little faith card. Your pathetic god theory is excused because you
believe
in your heart that despite the glaring evidence against him, it’s all a lie, a vicious rumor, a misrepresentation.”

“We know a few things, Micah. One of them being, we
know a few things. There are many unknown details, intricacies in each scenario that vary every outcome. Therefore we just can’t be certain of the whys of what we see, or that if what we are seeing is what we think it is.”

“I see perfectly!” he yelled at her. “I
n fact, good doctor, I wish I could
unsee
and
unfeel
and
unknow
what I see perfectly! Blood is red, pain hurts, and god is not fucking there when you need him, beg him, plead for him to be.”

Sarah’s heart rammed her chest as she held his gaze. She could not falter in this. “You listen to me,” she began, her voice quivering in her chest at the depth of his pain. “I believe it is those very things you can’t unsee, unfeel, and unknow, that keep you from the things that I see, feel, and know. I believe God’s motives and actions are just and will one day be proven when the whole story is out. I’m very sorry that you believe by the limited evidence you have, that it is more than enough to prove God guilty, but I believe passing final judgment when we know there is evidence out, is foolish. What I’m hearing in your judgment, is a conflict of interest—your pain—and while I am
vehemently
sympathetic to that, please consider that if it colors your logic, it will color your conclusion. You’re putting him on trial for sins he not only despises, but did not commit. And if you want to blame him for giving us free will? Fine, blame away, but you, me, and the entire world, all have the freedom to do as we wish, and despite the shit load of havoc that wreaks, I like being able to choose. And I can only imagine
how very tiring it must be to hear how he should be this and shouldn’t be that, how he should’ve done this and shouldn’t have done that, when nobody really knows the entirety of what, when, who, or why the fuck of anything. It’s a damned if you do, damned if you don’t cluster fuck, and I can tell you right here and right now, Micah, I choose today by the evidence I have—the blood in my body, the breath in my lungs, and the love in my heart for you—that God. Is. Good. And I will
never
renounce him.”

Sarah realized about two thirds of the way into her speech that it had come over her. That gift she sometimes
got. To know things, understand things, see things so clearly and to be able to speak and act without fear.

He stared at her for endless seconds, his heated gaze hooded and intense. “You are utterly breathtaking when you speak passionately about your god.”

It had to be the most unanticipated reaction of her life.
She suddenly wished she understood him the way she understood everything she’d just said. He was more of a puzzle than God had ever been. And the emotion in his words, a soul deep, breathless admiration. To make matters worse, her body decided to dump a truckload of desire on her. And why desire? What place did that have in this?

She put the feeling
s down, despising her gender’s weakness at such a crucial time. In the end, she was unsure of how to respond to his words, so she didn’t.

“Despite that,” he began,
as though she’d just read off a grocery list, “in the real world, your theory may work. But in my world, the world you are now in, it unfortunately does not.”

And there it all went, the hope of maybe reaching a
truce, gone, poof. His non-compromising tone said… renounce or else. He returned to his spot on the bed next to her, closer than before.

She leaned away a little,
hoping to distance herself from the entrapment of his scent accompanied with the terror of his words. “What are you saying Micah?”

“Are we starting sessions again?”

“I just asked you a simple question. I don’t think this is session material.”

“Oh, I think it is. Because if I
tell you why none of your theories work for us, you will likely feel the need for sessions. Many, many sessions. But since you love me, and renouncing your faith has nothing to do with that, I would ask that you demonstrate…this love to me.”

“Why?”

“Why? Do you need a reason to show you love me?”

She stared at him. ”
I want the reason.”

He brought his face inches from hers. “
And I want you…to demonstrate your love.”

Sarah fought her body again, it wanted to demonstrate just
what he was suggesting. “What about you?”

“What about me,” he whispered, his lips brushing hers.

“Showing…me.”

He pulled back a little. “Showing you what sweetheart.”

“That…you love me.”

“How would you like me to demonstrate that?”

She swallowed, praying for the next words, for air not filled with his scent. “Marry me.”

His lips nibbled at hers.
“I already planned to,” he gasped,” sliding his fingers into her hair at the temple, his touch silky.

His words confused her. As well as thrilled,
and scared her.

“Here. This weekend. That’s why we’re here.”

“I don’t understand,” she whispered, her lips giving in to his, becoming supple and willing.

His fingers found their way to
the back of her neck and massaged softly. He suddenly deepened his kiss with a groan of hunger, tongue entering her mouth, his body slowly pushing her onto the bed. “You understand this.” He slid his fingers along her privates, and she gasped. “And this.” He dipped his finger in her opening and wet her throbbing bud.