She remains frozen, but her eyes glance between mine and the ground while she weighs her options.
Her chin lifts, the defiance fully returning to her posture and the challenge in her voice is clear. “Is that how you control people? Is this how all of you control everyone here?”
I stop, leaning down so our eyes meet. “It’s not as much about control as it is about people understanding what happens when they refuse to accept their place.” She’s close enough now that I feel the heat from her anger hanging in the air. Her eyes narrow, and for a moment I think she might push me away. Instead, she steps further into me. I feel her tits through her top when her body presses against mine.
“You don’t scare me.” Her voice is steady, but there’s a slight tremor there I can’t ignore.
I see the conflict in her, the rage and the vulnerability battling for control. She’s standing her ground, but the cracks are starting to show. “I know I don’t, but I should.” My wordscome in a low warning. I hear Melinda’s feet as they round the corner, running away. When I look back, Luke is gone too. My heart races, the silence between us growing thicker as I realize we’re completely alone. All I want to do is touch her, but something is nagging at me, like the faint trace of tears on her face. It only deepens the craving I have for her. I reach out, grabbing her hair, and pull her into me.
I don’t think as my lips crash into hers, rough and desperate. She fights against me, her teeth sinking so deep into my lip she draws blood. “Shh,” I whisper.
She doesn’t pull away. Instead, she keeps kissing me, sucking my split lip. The metallic taste of blood mixing with the moment turns her lips and her sweet, soft moans into a weapon. One that I feel searing through me. The heat is becoming so consuming, I’m not sure if I want to burn or beg for mercy. I stop myself, and she pushes me away. A laugh escapes me, enjoying watching her sudden fight mode. I pick her chin up and cup her face in my hands, rubbing tiny circles around her dimples. She turns her head to the side, pulling away from me, and I frown. My breath catches at the sight of her pretty green eyes, a tint of soft pink encasing them.
I feel a new kind of fire rising through me, one I would typically welcome, but stifle it for now. She opens her mouth like she’s going to speak, but I cut her off. I’m determined for her to hear me. “Fenris knows nothing of compassion or fairness. He lives only to breathe in hatred and exhale wrath. He sees himself as god. The god who controlled the rain, unleashing forty days of destruction, drowning the innocent. The one who struck Uzzah dead for touching the ark of god.”
“If I didn’t—” The wordobeyfills my mouth like bile, but I painfully swallow it down, dropping into the pits of my own hell, where it belongs.
“Please forgive me.” My earlier thought of if she doesn’t forgive me, it won’t matter, goes out the window. I need her to forgive me, to believe me. So I continue pleading with my words. “If he saw any hesitation or if I refused, you would’ve suffered even more for my rebellion. I am not a good person. There have been times I’ve stood by and watched him do the most heinous things to those I loved.”
My lungs slowly fill as I inhale deeply. Searching her eyes for anything, any semblance of retribution. I close my eyes and see Lucy. Her lethargic eyes pleading with Jonah, when she went in and out of consciousness—all while knowing he can’t save her. The strength she had, refusing to show my father any emotion other than pure defiance.
I shake away the memory and continue looking at Catarina. “I won’t let anyone else suffer at my father’s hands because of my failures.” I watch her, wiping away the tears that have spilled over her eyes. When she doesn’t flinch, I begin to kiss the salty freckles lining her cheeks. I slip both hands into her hair, gathering it in tight handfuls, pulling her closer. I feel her rise on her tiptoes, pressing her lips to mine, and I grip her tighter, pulling her head back, deepening the kiss. A moan enters my mouth as it exits hers, and all I want to do is drag her to the nearest room and have my way with that pretty little face.
I hear my name echo down the hall, but at this moment nothing else matters, only her. I turn after I hear my name called a second time, hoping to hell Harold didn’t see anything between Catarina and me. That he didn’t notice the way I looked at her, the way she looked at me. I don’t want to walk away, but I know I have no choice.
I make my way over to him. “Your father wants to see you.” He stares at me like he’s already made up his mind about something. I look back at Cat and her expression has dropped back to the usual stone.
“Goddammit,” I groan under my breath. I had her—right here. I had her in my fucking hands. My steps echo through the hall as I stomp to Fenris’ study. I hear Melinda on the other side of the door and push Harold out of my way, walking around him.
“No he doesn’t, dear. Come here. I will speak with him. No one defies god. He will obey. I had just hoped he would come to the conclusion naturally is all. All is well, Melinda. I promise.” My temper flares just listening to her whine and Fenris’ attempt at comfort. I throw open the door in no mood to let this conversation go any further. He wants me to be a stronger leader, more in control, then so be it.
Melinda’s head whips around before her body does; it’s so fast I’m shocked at how she doesn’t just snap her neck. “Zedediah!” My name cuts through the air.
“She’s not a good bartering chip for you to be attempting to use,” I spit, locking my eyes with hers. “If it’s power you’re after…” I drag my words out as I walk closer to them, feeling the ridges in the ram’s horn as I trace my pointer finger over it. “Why not…” My words trail off and I nod at Fenris. “I mean, he’s our leader.” I make certain to elongate the word, mocking him. “If you want me, I’m sure you’d fare just fine with him.”
She looks like she’s seen a ghost, all the color drains from her face. I watch her chin begin to tremble as Fenris stalks over, stopping when he makes it to her back. I see the exact moment she feels his presence inch behind her. Her face looks pained.
A shiver trails down my spine as his words drip with malice, and I imagine if the story of Eve was true—the serpent would sound precisely like the words he speaks. “Would you like that, Melinda?” He brushes her hair behind her ear, and my stomach drops. I force a smile, needing to seem as threatening as possible, even if that means offering Melinda up to Fenris for slaughter.
“You may leave, Melinda.” He smiles, his already pointy features sharpening further. “We can continue this discussion tonight, perhaps.”
Her head is lowered and she isn’t doing a good job of keeping her composure, but she forces out, “Yes, Fenris,” not daring to look at me before walking past me out the door, letting it shut loudly behind her. The door has barely closed before he goes straight into the topic of discussion like what just happened didn’t exist.
“It is odd that you did not come straight to me when you returned. The fact that I had to send Harold after you is unacceptable. What, were you just dropping off your bags?”
My smile is forced, mocking even. “Yeah, that’s right.”
Fenris doesn’t buy it, his eyes narrow, scanning me like he’s searching for a crack in my story. He keeps his voice low. “What is the status of Rylan?”
My face stays neutral. “I didn’t see him. I sat outside of the address you gave me. Found a few other locations he may have been attached to online, so I staked outside of those, too. But he wasn’t there.” I’m lying, and we both know it. Fenris leans back, his eyes still locked on mine. He doesn’t say anything right away, but his stare lingers. His suspicion is apparent. The silence stretches between us, the weight of it thick.
“I see,” he says, his tone flat.
He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Do you really expect me to believe that? Tell me the truth.”
My gaze is steady as I meet his. “I don’t have a reason to lie.”
His eyes flicker, but I don’t care to read too closely. Fenris’ jaw tightens but he doesn’t press further. He knows I’m hiding something, but he also knows pushing me won’t get him anywhere. He leans back, the tension in the room dissipating slightly. His stare is dismissive, but I know better—it’s never that easy. Plus, I’ve got my own questions. “So Brady pulled Catarinainto your office today.” He steps closer, as if he is trying to corner me. “Why was Catarina crying in the hall?"
