Page 229
I move forward, never taking my eyes off him. He cradles his wounded arm against his body, teeth bared, still believing himself dangerous. He looks at Zaiya with resentment that she survived.
“Take them to the Crypt,” I say, keeping my voice controlled, though I want to scream.
My brothers seize Patrick and Michael like sacks of meat. Patrick fights, but he’s outnumbered and weak.
“I didn’t have a choice. He would have killed me,” Michael whines.
Lucian scoffs. “Now you’ll wish he had.”
Zaiya steps forward to stand at my side. “Bridget, too.”
The room stills around that.
Pride fills my chest. She stands straighter now. Chin lifted. Hands steady. She may look like hell spat her out, but she’s giving orders.
Patrick twists his head towards her, eyes wild. “Leave my wife out of this! You’re nothing! You hear me, bitch? You’re fucking nothing.”
He shouts his insults as Reese and Marcus drag him away.
“I’m not nothing,” she says calmly before they pull him through the door. “I’m the reason you’re going to die.”
Patrick groans through the pain as he’s forced out of the chamber.
Zaiya’s fingers slide into mine again. She’s not behind me anymore. She’s beside me.
Where she belongs.
CHAPTER 51
ZAIYA
Iwait in the chamber outside the ritual room with goosebumps rising along my arms. Anticipation makes me antsy. It’s strange to be standing at the edge of a place I once feared because all it ever brought was pain.
The Veiled Matrons move around me with quiet efficiency, hands fluttering over fabric, clasps, and ties. They don’t ask how I’m feeling or offer advice. As wives of the Councilmen, I would think they have the most insight into the Order other than Edwin. But they say very little. Their job is to prepare me. To dress me in the emerald green gown for the Ascension Ceremony.
It feels like a wedding. And I suppose it kind of is. I’m giving myself to Edwin, the Order, and the future waiting beyond those doors. There will be no leaving once I belong to the Serpentium Order. They’d kill me if I ever tried.
An antique mirror hangs on the far wall, its old glass framed by carved gold flourishes. A woman in green stares back at me, her eyes too large and her mouth too soft. I almost don’t recognize her.
She’s the same girl who used to sit in her childhood bedroom and pretend the world ended at the front door so she wouldn’t miss what she could never touch. The same girl who mistook obedience for safety.
Now I’m about to walk into a room full of men who don’t worship goodness. They worship power.
Over the past week, Edwin and I started getting used to the idea that we would rule the Order together. Leadership comes naturally to him. He was built for it. He commands attention without asking for it and takes up space like it belongs to him. At first, he wanted to burn his inheritance to the ground and let the ashes become someone else’s burden. Now he wants the crown. He wants it because it gives him purpose, and purpose keeps him alive.
More importantly, he wants me here with him.
One woman steps close and smooths the chiffon gown over my hips. Liam’s wife, Florence. The other four women keep a straight face, but she offers a little grin.
Her hands pause. “It’s time.”
I nod despite my nerves. I’ve learned that courage is motion, a step forward while fear claws at your throat and begs you to stay behind.
They escort me out of the chamber. The hallway waits, dim and narrow, the stone walls gleaming. My heels click as I walk.
Edwin stands at the end of the hall like he’s been carved out of platinum. He’s dressed in an emerald green velvet suit that looks almost black until the light hits it and it shimmers. His hair falls near his collar, smooth and perfectly in place against the rough stubble along his jaw. Those deep blue eyes find mine, and anxiety fades away.
Besides being gorgeous, what stops me in my tracks is the way he looks at me.
