“The Order requires leaders, not liabilities. This Trial is about preparation. The world we live in, the battles we face—they do not come with the courtesy of fairness or time. Every leader, every recruit under the Obsidian Order must understand this. They must be ready to make every second count, to make decisions with life-or-death consequences.”
“But this isn’t the world. This is a controlled test. You’re manipulating the outcome from the start.”
“Controlled, yes, but reflective of the unpredictability of reality,” he replies coolly. “Every member of the Order has been prepared for these tests. They understand the risks.”
“They didn’t have a choice.”
Edward doesn’t flinch at my accusation. Instead, he merely nods slightly, as if acknowledging a point in a mundane debate. “In a manner of speaking. Greatness often emerges from the crucible of cruelty. If they survive, they will be stronger, more capable. If not...” He trails off, shrugging slightly, a gesture so nonchalant it makes my blood hot.
Frustrated and feeling helpless, I turn back to the screens. Both Xavier and Ben are now actively working, using whatever limited resources they have to identify the toxin corrupting their systems.
“What poison is it?’
Edward turns slowly, his face a mask of calculated detachment. “It’s a poison the Order created. The inspiration for it is the sanguineus castor bean,” he replies methodically, as if discussing the weather rather than a lethal toxin.
“Sanguineus? Related to blood?” I frown, trying to piece together the significance. The symbolism.
“Exactly,” Edward confirms with a nod. “It’s apt, given the timing of The Sanguine Solstice, the celebration of the blood moon under which we honor the recruits who passed the first trial.”
The layers of meaning send a shiver down my spine, the celebration’s name taking on a sadistic tone. “What will it do to them?” I ask, needing to know more while dreading every word that comes out of his mouth.
“It is designed to be fast-acting, attacking the body’s cells, preventing them from making the proteins they need to survive. Without the antidote we’ve created, it will result in death within hours from systemic organ failure,” he explains clinically. “The Sanguine Solstice isn’t just a celebration—it’s a reminder of the blood that leaders must be willing to shed, figuratively and literally.”
His justification does nothing but increase my horror. I turn back to the screens, my mind reeling from the implications. The recruits are in a race against a clock that’s ticking away in their veins, and the odds aren’t in their favor.
Chapter 26
DELILAH
Istare at the screens, my gaze darting between Xavier and Ben. My loyalty lies with both men, doubling my stress and panic. I can’t imagine living without either of them, but for very different reasons.
Ben has always been steadfast, a comforting presence in a life of turmoil. He’s my best friend, my confidant, and my protector. Or at least he was until Xavier Donovan came into my life.
Xavier might be the one person I give my heart to, the one man who could earn my trust in a way that I’ve never allowed to happen. The desire to be with him for the foreseeable future scares me just as much as the thought of losing him.
The sound of the door opening pulls my attention from the monitors, where the men in my life struggle to survive. Two well-dressed men walk in, their mannerisms speaking of wealth and power.
Edward glances in their direction and acknowledges each of them with a curt nod. “Gage. Kent.”
Gage, as in Eric’s father. I take in the older man’s dark blonde hair and aloof expression, but it’s his cold eyes that remind me of his son. As Raven would say, they both give off “bad juju vibes.”
The other man is a carbon copy of Declan. I suppose it’s the other way around, but he’s an older, more mature-looking version of June’s recruit.
Both of them immediately snap their heads in my direction. “Donovan, why is she here?” Gage asks. He nods toward me, his gaze sharp and assessing. Kent stands beside him, his eyes flickering between the two men, calculating and cool.
Edward straightens, composing himself as he turns to face his colleagues. “The bride is here as part of the test. Her presence is designed to add a psychological layer to Xavier’s Trial—a test of his emotional resilience and decision-making under stress.”
Kent tilts his head. “Adding personal stakes with potential psychological trauma to an already high-stress situation? Donovan, are you certain this won’t compromise the integrity of the Trial?”
Edward meets his gaze evenly. “The Trials are meant to push them to their limits. We need leaders who can maintain their composure and prioritize the Order’s objectives, even in the face of personal loss or emotional turmoil. It’s a crucial criterion for leadership.”
He stops talking to wave a hand at the monitors where the recruits are all hunched over the lab tables with beakers or other instruments in hand. “I shouldn’t have to explain to you that our sons will take our place on the council, but that’ll only happen if they can prove themselves worthy. This Trial, gentlemen, isn’t just about surviving; it’s about being able to do so under the worst conditions imaginable.”
Eric’s father smiles. It’s sinister and crazed, the exact expression I witnessed on his son’s face when he was choking the shit out of me. “Your viewpoint and training tactics have always inspired me.”
“I understand the necessity for resilience,” Kent says, “but you haven’t been fair in your execution. Neither of our sons were included in this addition to the test.”
Edward sighs. “You’re right, but it’s too late now.”
