My throat feels too tight. “Is there anything that makes it easier?”
“Calder will probably offer you something. Pain medication before the ceremony. It helps, but not as much as you’d hope.” Elena stands and moves around the counter to stand beside me. Up close, I can see the fine lines around her eyes and the way herhands shake slightly. “The truth is, nothing makes it easy. You just survive it. And then you carry it with you forever.”
We stand in silence, two trapped women in a kitchen that smells of coffee and quiet desperation.
“There’s something else,” Elena says, and her voice drops even lower. “Something Roman will probably mention tomorrow night but won’t explain until later.”
“What?”
She turns to face me fully, and the look in her eyes makes ice flood my veins. “The wedding night ceremony.”
“The... what?”
“It’s a Bishop tradition. After the branding heals enough that you can move without screaming, they hold another ceremony. This one is...” She pauses, choosing her words carefully. “It’s meant to consummate the marriage in front of witnesses. To prove that the union is legitimate. That the woman has accepted her place in the family.”
The room tilts. “You’re saying I have to, with Calder, while people watch?”
Elena’s face is carefully blank. “It’s humiliating. It’s invasive. And there’s no way around it.”
I think I might be sick.
“This is insane,” I whisper. “This whole family is insane.”
“Yes.” Elena’s agreement is matter-of-fact. “But you knew that already. The question is whether you’re strong enough to survive it.”
“I don’t have a choice.”
“No. You don’t.” She reaches out and gently touches my arm. “I wish I could tell you it gets easier. That eventually you stop feeling like property. That the brand stops burning when you look at it in the mirror.”
“But it doesn’t.”
“But it doesn’t.” Her hand drops away. “I’ve been Roman Bishop’s wife for thirty years. And every single day, I feel the weight of that iron on my skin. Every single day, I remember that I’m not a person in this family. I’m a possession.”
The hopelessness in her voice breaks something in me.
“How are you still here?” I ask. “Don’t you want to leave?”
“Leave? Where would I go?” Elena laughs, bitter and sharp. “I have four sons who need me, even if they pretend they don’t. I have no money that isn’t Roman’s. No skills that would support me in the real world. And if I tried to run...” The look in her eyes is nothing short of fear. “Roman would find me. And what he’d do to me would make the branding look gentle.”
She moves back toward the living room, and I follow, legs feeling unsteady.
At the door, Elena pauses with her hand on the knob. “You seem strong,” she says, looking back at me. “Stronger than I was at your age. Maybe that will be enough.”
“Enough for what?”
“To survive this family without losing yourself completely.” She opens the door and steps onto the porch. “I lost myself thirty years ago. But you... maybe you can hold on to who you are. Maybe Calder will let you.”
“He forced me into this marriage,” I point out, the words tasting bitter. “I don’t think he cares about who I am.”
Something flickers across Elena’s face. Almost pity, but not quite. “I think you’re wrong about that. Calder chose you. He betrayed his family, the only thing he’s ever known, for you. I think he cares more about who you are than you want to believe.” She starts down the porch steps, then pauses as if she’s forgetting something. “One more thing, Saint.”
“Yes?”
“During the branding, when the pain is at its worst, find something to focus on. A memory. A prayer. Something thatbelongs to you and only you. Hold on to it like a lifeline.” Her eyes meet mine one last time. “Because once that iron touches your skin, Roman will own a piece of you forever. What he won’t ever be able to touch unless you give it to him is your mind and soul. Keep those for you.”
I don’t know what to say, and she doesn’t care to wait for my response. She continues down the steps and walks across the yard toward her car, leaving me standing in the doorway, my coffee growing cold and her warnings echoing in my head.
I watch her drive away, dust kicking up behind her tires. That’s when I finally break. I go back inside, close the door, and lock it behind me. My knees buckle, and I lean against the wall before I sink to the floor with my back against the wood.
