The door creaked open, and I was faced with a dimly lit room—a wine cellar.
And the first thing I saw was Wes.
His eyes found mine immediately. His throat bobbed, tension baked into his every feature.
Just when I thought I understood everything, another fracture fissured in my rapidly changing reality.
Wes hadn’t responded to Hudson because Roman hadkidnapped him.
“I’m so sorry, Nova,” Wes said. His voice was tortured, gruff as he stepped forward slowly. “If I had known?—”
“I didn’t give you permission to speak,” Roman snapped.
I nodded slightly to Wes, acknowledging him and his words. Neither of us had realized how dangerous Roman was, and that had been a stupid, fatal mistake.
My eyes brimmed with tears. Seeing Wes again, even after everything that happened, still soothed something deep inside me.
“Not another step either,” Roman ordered Wes as he pushed me down the steps. “In fact, go stand in the corner of the room.”
I nearly lost my balance, but Roman grabbed me before I fell. He pulled me to the other side of the table as Wes glared at everywhere on my body Roman touched.
Roman reached under the table for a locked trunk. He slowly started pulling items out.
Restraints. A propane torch. A…
My breath caught. I took three steps back. “No.”
My eyes met Wes’s, his hazel irises bleeding fear and anguish. His fists were clenched at his side.
All three of us stared at the branding iron: Wes and I in horror, and Roman in pure delight and satisfaction.
Two notable lines from the piece of classic kinky literature I’d read over the summer rose to the forefront of my mind.
O will not be tattooed.
You’re to be branded.
The urge to throw up was back in full force. My vision tunneled, my sense of gravity tilting as I clutched the table and struggled to breathe.
“The family crest will look so good on your perfect, fair skin,” Roman said. “Don’t you think, brother?”
Wes didn’t speak.
“Speaking permission is granted,” Roman said cheerfully, as if pleased by our obedience.
My mind raced, trying to find a way out of this. Could Wes and I take him out without getting shot?
Wes looked exhausted but unharmed. We stared at each other for three long beats. The best plan I could come up with at the moment was to stall.
“Did you brand Lorelei?” I managed to ask, wincing in preparation for the answer.
“She begged me to,” Roman said.
I shut my eyes, and a choked sound escaped my lips. I remembered her declaration that she had given an eternal vow of service.
And her PicWave caption, which had read:I am ready to merge with eternity, with my God, with The Circle.
The Graves family crest was encircled in an ouroboros, the symbol of The Circle.
