Cedric’s grip tightens around my shoulder as he addresses the crowd. “Ryven is a loyal servant. A faithful blade.”
Applause breaks out. I stand there, stiff as stone, while Cedric’s words echo through the church. His praise always tastes like poison.
“And yet,” he continues, voice lowering like a knife being unsheathed, “even the most faithful can stray from the path. Can forget who they serve.” His eyes don’t leave mine.
My heart ticks once and then again.
He looks at me. Not smiling. Not accusing. Just watching.
“Our enemies hide in plain sight. Rebels. Traitors. Weak men with stronger masks.”
That one lands. Like a blade to my ribs.
“So let this be a reminder,” Cedric finishes, letting his hand drop from my shoulder. “You serve the Dark One—or you serve the fire.”
The firepit behind us roars to life, flames licking the stone rim like it’s hungry. Hungry for sinners.
I bow my head as my shoulders feel heavier. Every order I give now means someone dies.
And they’re watching me. Waiting for me to slip.
I step off the stage. My seat feels miles away and my cloak feels heavier than before. And as I sit, I feel it—that cold crawl at the back of my neck.
Someone here suspects me. I know it. And when they find proof, I won’t get a second chance.
Chapter 16
Rory
My fucking scar still burns on my hip. It hasn’t stopped since yesterday. I’ve tried everything. A cold compress. A warm compress. Now I’m sitting in the bathtub, letting it soak. But nothing is working.
I groan in exasperation. When I can’t get Ryven off my mind for an unexplained reason, the stupid X on my hip burns like fire.
It’s been nearly a week since those double murders and just as long since I’ve seen Ryven. He hasn’treached out or shown up out of the blue. It’s almost like he is avoiding me. Or worse… gone.
It’s driving me insane. I hate how much I notice he’s gone.
I grab my phone and call him, but after the second ring, he sends me to voicemail. “Asshole,” I mutter. At least I know he’s still alive.
I feel like I need answers for his last killing, though. What did she do that made him torture her like that?
I let out a breath and stand from the tub. After drying myself off, I get dressed and grab my keys hanging by the front door. It’s time to confront Ryven.
“Why are you in the middle of the woods at eight at night?” Thomas’ voice grumbles through the speakers of my vehicle.
“Why do you know where I am?” I park nearby and turn off my lights, then I remember something. “Goddammit, Thomas. That tracker was for emergencies. Code-only. You break the rules again, and I rip it out myself.”
He clears his throat. “I was just checking in on you, Rory. That’s all.”
He gives me the creeps. Always hovering. Always watching. I turn my location off. He probably already knows where I’m going. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to make it easy on him.
“Come on now, Rory. Don’t be like that,” he whines.
“It’s called personal space, Thomas. Have a good night.” I click end and pocket my phone.
He is going to have to learn some boundaries.
I let out a sigh and climb out of my SUV, marching into the forest. Eventually, a large black church comes into view on the other side of the woods. I’m not sure how long I’ve been walking, but it’s been a while. The church hasn’t changed since I was a kid—still towering, still wrong, and somehow that makes it worse.
