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My head fell down as I let out a screech of frustration.
“You’re an asshole, Monty!”
That had the men breaking out of their terrified trance.
“Get the holy water! She’s brought an army!”
They were chanting faster now, and I spotted a silver dagger in one man’s hand. Fear pulsed through my veins at the sight of the weapon, and I fought against the restraints harder than ever. Now I was feral, screaming and fighting, pain be damned.
I refused to die down here. Not at their hands and certainly not for something I couldn’t fucking help.
Where the fuck are you, Monty?!
“Stop that,” my grandmother screamed into the chaos. I whipped my head to the side to see her standing next to the bishop, who didn’t look very happy. “This has to happen.”
For an omega she had an alpha’s commanding presence. The scent of rotten flowers joined the basement and I bit back a groan. Her scent was always vile but right now, in her anger, it was horrific.
As she stalked closer, with a thick, wooden cross clenched in a tight fist, and fury twisting her wrinkled face, I knew it wouldn’t only be a mentally taxing night, but a painful one, too.
If God really exists, he’s obviously not here with me now.
“Your mother was just as lost as you are, you know,” my grandmother ranted as I tried to finish the stale sandwich as quickly as possible and not choke to death. It was the first food I’d been given in two days. I was starving and weak from hunger and torment.
Monty was absent, the bishop had all but disappeared and left me at the hands of my sadistic grandmother and the unhinged priest, and I was barely hanging on by a thread.
It didn’t help that I was rarely allowed to get up from the chair I was tied to. If I hadn’t threatened to piss myself, they likely wouldn’t have let me up at all.
At this point, I was pretty sure my lungs were full of dust and holy water.
“The Lord is said to test you, and I’ve certainly faced my tests with you, Harlow.”
Her face was set in a sad, self-pitying look, but scents didn’t lie. Hers right now was bitter with judgment and hate.
“I’m sorry it’s so fucking hard for you to deal with my mental health,” I said, muttering sarcastically as I glared at her.
My filter was gone, thanks to the shit she and her crazy church had put me through. Her shrewd eyes narrowed on me, and she tried to figure out if I was being an asshole or truly sorry.
The smack of her cane on the table meant she figured out it was the former.
Before I could snatch my hand back, she slammed it down again, right on my knuckles this time.
I bit back a scream as blood seeped from my skin. She didn’t get to hear that she got to me.
What I never understood was how could she hate me this much? I swore she only had the cane to hit me with, she was agile for an old lady and walked just fine. Honestly, I knew that only a deal with the devil himself kept her alive.
She stepped away and put on a smile as someone walked through. They did that every so often as if keeping an eye on us without being obvious. She gave him a polite smile and bowed her head in greeting. When she was like this, she almost seemed normal, but the moment he was out of sight she was back to her usual. The woman was the epitome of school marm, with her long, floral dress, intensely tight bun, and permanent scowl.
I hated her more than I’d hated anyone else in my life. That was saying something. She ignored my glare and started walking again, going on a fresh rant, one I’d heard too often.
“There’s no such thing as bad mental health. Depression, bipolar, schizophrenia... it’s all just the devil trying to lead you astray from the Lord,” she scoffed. “You just didn’t pray hard enough, girl. Too lazy to give it a real try.”
“Yes, little human, pray harder,” Monty mocked my grandmother as he appeared on the table next to me. He leaned forward, shadow clad hands folded in front of him as if he were listening attentively. Smartass.
I should have been startled by him, but the familiar chill that always crept down my spine when he was near, told me he was coming. I breathed in his stormy scent with a deep breath, holding it in my lungs and absorbing the calm it always brought me.
He shifted again so he was sitting on the long table, watching us. His long, shadow-coated legs were tucked close to his chest and the fire within him burned bright as he stared straight into my soul. He was smaller now, something he did when the need arose, but no less imposing.
“Maybe I should have yelled scripture just a bit louder when you were praying the demons away,” I deadpanned as I ate the last bite and stood. Getting dizzy from the sudden movement, I had to brace myself before I fell again.
