“Listen carefully,” he says. He stares down at me, the slashes on his mask making my stomach churn with foreboding. “The recruits want to see you suffer. They get off on that shit. Especially the council member. Everyone saw the fight in you,and now they want to watch you break. Don’t give them the satisfaction.”
I narrow my gaze, tears long gone. “I heard your leader say that my behavior is a reflection on you. Is that why you’re telling me? So I don’t make you look bad?”
“No. I don’t give a fuck what they think.”
“Then why?”
He steps closer. “This is a test, and the Order expects you to fail. Theywantyour fear,” he says.
“And what do you want?”
“Everything else.”
My breath hitches. Just as I’m about to ask him the question burning on my tongue, he takes my hand in his. The feel of his touch breaks my concentration.
What is it about him that has my mind going blank and my body becoming alert?
A woman’s scream shatters the night, echoing in the trees like the wail of an ambulance siren. The agonizing sound is immediately followed with masculine cheers and clapping. My heart slams against my ribcage. Was that Brenda or June crying out?
Xavier doesn’t so much as flinch. He squeezes my hand. I can’t tell if it’s a warning or to comfort me.
He pulls me behind him while anxiety claws at my insides. The trees around us create a wall of black spikes, their trunks covered in shadow. Too soon, the clearing comes into view, along with the recruits.
And the altar.
It’s a rectangular slab of stone. Possibly marble or granite, a dark gray speckled with silver and black flakes. Moss covers the base and the sides, hiding the weathered edges and some of the intricate carvings of long-forgotten symbols. Adjacent to it stands a single brazier, wrought from iron, its curved designhinting at ancient elegance. Smoldering embers cast an eerie glow upon the altar’s surface.
And June.
The sight of my friend lying on top of it almost makes me vomit. She sobs uncontrollably, her entire body shaking as though she’s having a seizure. The flames from the brazier dance on her tear-stained cheeks and torn dress, etching a haunting sorrowful portrait of her distress and suffering.
The recruit with the checkered mask standing directly behind the altar extends a hand to June. His masked face conceals whatever thoughts lie behind the cold demeanor that lines his shoulders. When she doesn’t take his hand, he reaches for her, assisting her down with his arm wrapped around her waist.
June stands on shaky legs and her hair sways back and forth like a curtain in a breeze. She clings to him, her sobs gradually subsiding as he whispers in her ear and she regains some semblance of composure. However, her tearful gaze never leaves the recruit.
“Votum meum tibi,1” he says, looking directly at the cloaked leader.
The council member nods in approval at the recruit. “Votum tuum receptum est.2”
The rest of the young men stand at a distance in a semi-circle, watching the exchange with rapt attention. I scan the crowd, searching for Ben. Once I find him, I can’t stomach looking at my foster brother anymore. He can’t help me now.
I keep my gaze on June as she’s led back to the group of recruits. Brenda lies on the ground at the feet of the guy with the dotted mask. Her expression is blank, as though she’s crawled so far into the recesses of her mind that she’s not mentally present. My heart breaks all over again.
I’m so happy I stabbed that motherfucker. And that he didn’t catch me.
He stands with his arms crossed, his gaze narrowed on Xavier. Then it shifts to me. And flashes with something malicious.
I return his stare. The hatred in his eyes drills into me from across the clearing, making my legs shake underneath my skirt. Even so, I don’t stop glaring at him. Instead, I pull on my rising anger and shield myself with it.
The cloaked leader claps slowly, breaking our staring contest. The man gestures to the empty altar with an outstretched hand and I gulp.
“The second bride has been claimed and branded to serve as a reminder of the power that binds them,” he says. “Only one remains.”
Xavier’s grip on my hand tightens when the leader looks in our direction. The man’s face might be covered with a mask, but I can feel the anticipation rolling off of him in waves. They crash into me, weakening my resolve.
Well, fuck this guy.
Xavier leans down, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s time.”
