“Not without you,” I grunted, bracing my feet and leaning backward.
“Lilith!” a familiar voice snapped.
I glanced up and realized the third man was Elder Tomes. Rage flickered, licking up the sides of my face. Him. Of course he was a part of it. He’d been at Mirkwold, at the beginning.
He glared at me. “This is hardly becoming behavior! Stop this rebellious spirit or there will be consequences.”
I didn’t care. I feared nothing more than losing Castiel. Baring my teeth at the elder, I said, “I won’t believe your lies anymore. You’re serving yourself, not the congregation.”
His face went white with rage, even as he forcibly bent one of Castiel’s wings and pinned it against a wall.
Castiel went gray.
“Stop hurting him!” I shrieked, helpless with rage.
“That’s enough of that.” Elder Nelson’s voice rose about the commotion, much closer to me than I expected.
Hands grabbed me and jerked me back.
I lost my balance, and my fingers slipped from Castiel’s foot. I spun, scrabbling at the hands. “Let me go!” My hair tangled around my face. I couldn’t see who was holding me.
“What do you want to do with her?” one of the men asked, voice tight with effort as I kicked and twisted.
“Prayer closet,” Elder Nelson decided. “Back of the church to the right.”
I shoved my hair out of my face, and his eyes pinned me with their malevolence. My veins froze with fear.
“Whatever rebellious spirit has found a way into her heart must be cast out.”
“No!” Anything but the prayer closet. I couldn’t help Castiel if I was locked in there.
Pleasure filled Elder Nelson’s eyes though his mouth remained in a firm, frowning line appropriate for a spiritual leader. “You must learn to submit, Lilith, to the will of Erlik. Three days of prayer and fasting should bring you back to the holy path.”
Three days?
“Please!” I tried to drop to my knees. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You’re right. I listened to the lies of the false Herald. I believed his untrue words and I let pride creep into my heart. I repent of the pride. I remember now. You speak with the voice of Erlik, and I will listen to you. Please, not the prayer closet.” Fighting never worked—why had I let my panic override my common sense?
I could not fight.
I could not flee.
It was too late to not be involved.
And I’d ruined my last chance of pleasing him.
“When you have rediscovered your gentle and quiet spirit you may resume your duties serving us.” He frowned. “We will also look into finding you a husband. This willfulness has grown because you’ve been without a leader and protector.”
The man dragged me away.
“Please!” I wept, my knees and legs banging to the floor and corners of walls. “I’ll be good. I believe the elder. I was confused for a moment, but I believe him, I do.” I scrabbled to grab hold of anything, but all I succeeded in was the stabbing pain of splinters.
My pleas rolled off him like water. When he arrived at the narrow wooden door I was too exhausted to fight any longer. I panted, skirts tangled and stockings torn.
He held my wrists with one hand as I slumped at his feet, gasping for breath, his other hand unlocking the closet.
Then I was tossed inside.
I hit the ground, biting my tongue so hard blood pooled in my mouth from my knees hitting the wooden floor. Before I could whirl and break for the exit the door slammed in my face.
