My breath comes in ragged, uneven pants just as the thin blindfold is ripped from my face, and my eyes flutter open. It takes my vision a long moment to adjust, but when it does, my heart stalls in my chest. Fear seeps into the deepest parts of me. Flames from the sconces lick against the stone wall, casting a dull light around the room I’ve become all too familiar with over these past few months. A not-so-secret spot Reed and I called our own. The old meeting room for the founding families. Cloaked figures stand in a wide circle around my chair, trapping me in like a spectacle, each one wearing masks that look to be made of various animal carcasses. A brazier is placed in the middle of the circle, in front of the dais, its flames flickering wildly against the metal, casting warmth into the air around us. Yanking at my binds, I attempt to scream, but it only comes out as a muffled cry against the fabric. I jerk forward again, the chair screeching across the stone beneath my feet.
“Easy…” a man drawls. Amusement laces his voice in a way that makes my stomach twist. I recognize him as the one who was in my room moments before my world went dark. The one with the fox mask. He breaks from the formation, pacing slowly in circles around my chair. He twirls a sharp knife between his leather-clad hands like he’s itching to use it. Who the fuck is he? And what does he want from me? A frustrated scream rips through me. It comes out as an embarrassing, muffled growl, which seems to amuse one of the other members. She chuckles at my expense, and a single tear runs down my cheek from pure, undiluted anger. I jerk in my seat again like a rabid animal.
“Let me go!” I try to scream, though the words are inaudible.
The Fox comes to a slow stop before me and lowers himself to my level. I can somewhat make out a pair of dark green eyes behind the hollow sockets of the mask, but when he speaks again, low and rough, I stiffen, my eyes darting to the mouth of the skull. Sharp teeth protrude from the jawbone, and I force myself to stay still, despite my fight or flight being in full effect.
“I like them feisty,” he muses, and I shift in my seat. Despite my best efforts, my leg bounces uncontrollably as he calmly, menacingly, draws the blade up to my cheek. The cold metal bites at my skin as he presses the flat side against my flesh, dragging it with leisure down towards my lips. My heart drops into my stomach. I wrap my ankles around the legs of my chair to stop them from moving. Any sudden movement, and I’ll be flayed like a fish. This fucker would probably enjoy it.
“Such a pretty little prey,” he whispers so only I can hear, brushing the cool steel against my bottom lip. “I can’t wait to hear you sing for me.” He applies more pressure, and I hold my breath, squeezing my eyes shut, waiting for the sting.
“Order!” a voice booms from somewhere behind me, cutting the tension like a gunshot in a cathedral. A heavy door slams shut a moment later, echoing throughout the large room. The Fox hesitates for a long moment, refusing to ease the knife from my skin, his attention never wavering from me. When the sound of heavy boots approaches, he pulls away and saunters back to his spot in the circle, still twirling his knife between his gloved fingers. Silence settles around the room, and the sight of masked heads turning towards the voice behind me steals all the air fromthe room. It’s an eerie sight, like the devil himself has just walked through the doors.
Hair rises on the back of my neck as a dark presence looms over me. I keep my eyes fixed on the flames from the brazier ahead. “There is always a price to pay for what you desire,” a deep, low voice that I’d recognize anywhere, rasps next to my ear. Reed.
Slowly, I drag my eyes towards him, and my heart sinks. Looming over my shoulder, the large skull of a wolf leers back at me. The eyes of the skull are hollowed out, and the hood of his onyx robe is pulled far over his head. It casts a shadow over the top of the mask, rendering it nearly impossible to see his hazel eyes beneath it, but I know it’s him. I can tell by the way he carries himself. His voice. The way he demands attention from everyone around him by simply walking into the room. There’s something different about Reed tonight, though. Something darker and wilder, like he doesn’t just wear the wolf mask, but embodies it. “You asked for this,” he says, a hint of sadness in his otherwise stern tone.
Nerves wrack my body. What could he possibly mean by that? The warmth radiating from him disappears in an instant as he stands straight, and I miss it as soon as it’s gone. He walks past my chair, further into the circle. My heart tugs towards him, wanting, no,needinghim to get me out of here. He takes slow steps in leisure, his robe billowing behind him against the stone floor. Reed would never hurt me; he said so himself.
“Tonight,” his voice booms through the room, “we witness the initiation of one who has dared to seek us.” Any hopes of Reed being my knight in shining armour go right out the window. He can’t be talking about me. I didn’t ask for this! “She has crossed the threshold of choice, and in doing so, she binds herself to us.” Reed’s voice is loud and certain despite the mask. Choice? I didn’t choose this. Reed chose this fate for me, but why? Because he couldn’t trust me enough to know I’d keep hissecret? He scans the circle, and one by one, his peers bow their heads. That is, until he reaches The Fox. He tips his chin up in defiance. A challenge. But Reed doesn’t bite. He simply stares The Fox down, his hands folded at the front of his hips like he has all the time in the world. No one makes a sound, not even me. Reed looks like death incarnate. Like darkness made flesh. Not even the dim light from the sconces dare to illuminate him. The Fox is stubborn and unrelenting, but when The Wolf takes a single step forward, The Fox’s head finally drops in submission.
“Know this, there is no mercy in this circle. There is only the law we serve,” Reed continues, as if nothing had happened. “Verena is a Gravenhurst. The blood of the founding families runs through her veins, as potent as any of ours. She has every right to walk among us and claim her place in this order,” he says, like his peers need convincing. His attention averts to me. “But blood, loyalty and desire mean nothing if your soul cannot endure.”
Fear and confusion take root inside of me.If your soul cannot endure.The words replay in my mind over and over again as Reed spins on his heel and shoves a metal poker into the brazier. Sparks burst wildly into the air, and I stare at the flames as they grow taller. The room is so quiet you could hear a pin drop.Come on, Reed…Tell me what the fuck is going on!I want to scream.
“She doesn’t deserve a spot within the order!” The Fox bellows into the near-silent room, and I startle. All heads turn towards him. Reed goes deathly still, the muscles in his back flexing beneath his robe. The Fox takes a single step forward, breaking formation, and I can tell this isn’t normal behaviour, because his peers stiffen around him.
“We’ve finally rid the society of the Gravenhurst bloodline, and you want to initiate her?” The Fox spits. No one says a word. Except The Wolf.
“Get back in formation.”
“No.” The Fox’s words are immediate and unrelenting.
The Wolf takes slow, deliberate steps towards The Fox, but he doesn’t back down. I catch the glint of his dagger fisted in the pocket of his robe.
“Reed!” A muffled cry escapes me. Everything happens so fast. The Wolf’s head turns to me, then back to The Fox, just as he slips the dagger from his pocket, swinging it in the air towards The Wolf. A scream rips through me. The Wolf catches The Fox’s wrist mid-air. The dagger slips from The Fox’s leather glove on impact, clanging against the stone floor. The hood of The Fox’s robe slips from his head, revealing a mop of messy brown hair.Jenkins.
Two members of the society rush towards him, capturing his hands behind his back and shoving him to his knees. Jenkins struggles against them, his mask dropping to the ground.
“Submit,” The Wolf demands, his voice taunting.
Jenkins responds by spitting at his feet. A laugh escapes The Wolf. It’s dark, and unlike any sound I’ve ever heard from him, but I can hear the amusement behind it, and know without a doubt, he’s smiling. “Very well.”
The Wolf lifts his hand and swings with a force so strong a sound echoes through the chambers when it connects with Jenkins’ cheek on a loud crack. Jenkins is quiet for a moment, crouched on his knees, head hanging low between his shoulders as two members suspend his arms. His body shakes, and I expect it to be a sob splitting through his body after the horrid sound I’d just heard, but to my dismay, it’s a laugh. A loose curl cascades from his forehead, and blood streams from his mouth, pooling on the stone before him. “Submit,” The Wolf demands again, dominance thick in his tone.
“Fuck,” he spits a mouthful of blood, “you.”
The Wolf crouches in front of him.
“You forget your place amongst the chosen, but I’m happy to remind you.” Without another word, the wolf grabs hold of Jenkins’hand and shoves it straight into the hot coals of the brazier. I suck in a breath. The smell of rubber and burning flesh is instant. The blood-curdling scream from Jenkins has sickness biting at the back of my throat. “Submit!” Reed roars.
Jenkins continues to scream, his body trembling. “Okay! Fuck! I submit!”
He’s instantly pulled from the brazier, cradling his injured hand as the members drop him onto the cold floor. He collapses against it, his body shaking before he loses consciousness.
“Get him out of here,” The Wolf orders, his voice void of any emotion, and they carry his limp body from the room without another word. The rest of the members stand eerily still, heads tipped high, their hands clasped behind their backs.
Defiance might be out of character around here, but violence is certainly not.
