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“You can change your mind,” Sebastian says as we walk toward the post where a second fire is burning. Where, in the light of that second fire, Gregory stands waiting.
“No, I can’t.” My knees buckle once, and Sebastian catches me.
“Steady.”
“I’m okay.” I stop before we’ll be in earshot of Gregory and turn to him. “Thank you.”
“You have nothing to thank me for. Not a goddamn thing.”
I put my hands on either side of his face and he has to hold me up because it’s taking all I have not to fall down and I don’t think it’s the pills. It’s fear.
“Please don’t do this,” he tries once more.
“I’m glad it’ll be you to do it, not him.”
“It’s going to kill me.”
I shake my head, kiss his mouth. Then kiss it again.
“I love you. I love you so much,” I say.
He pulls me tight to him and for a moment, I’m not sure if he isn’t going to carry me off the island, run away with me, but instead, he lifts me up and carries me to the post. My head bobs against his chest and my eyes are closing, so I have to struggle to keep them open.
Gregory comes into view a few minutes later. He’s dressed in black from head to toe and I realize Sebastian is too.
Behind Greg, the fire sparks and hisses angrily, and I turn my head into Sebastian’s chest when I see the branding iron inside it.
“Tell me to stop.” He sounds tortured, like he’s the one about to be branded. “Tell me to fucking stop this.”
I shake my head no, try to squirm out of his arms.
But he won’t let me go, not even when we’re at the post, where Gregory stands watching like that angel over the mausoleum. Dark and beautiful and constant and scary as fuck.
He doesn’t say anything, nothing cocky or arrogant or anything at all. And his expression is somber, and he won’t stop looking at me.
“It’s okay,” I say to Sebastian, whose eyes are burning into his brother, murdering him with just a look. “I can stand.”
He looks down at me and I’ve never seen him like this. His eyes, like this. Full of anxiety and hate and pity and remorse and everything all at once.
Gregory moves, taking hold of one of my arms as Sebastian sets me down. He raises it over my head and I think if he let it go, it’d flop down to my side. I think if Sebastian lets me go and if I’m not bound, I will drop to the ground.
Sebastian raises my other arm and secures me and it takes all I have to straighten my legs, to stand on them.
I rest my forehead on the post. Even though it’s cool, I’m sweating and I hear them talking behind me but I must be going in and out of consciousness because I can’t follow what they say. I just hear them argue before I feel something wrap around my middle and I scream.
“Shh,” It’s Sebastian. “It’s not it. Not yet.”
He pushes the hair from my face to make me look at him and I’m having a hard time keeping my eyes open but I’m not sure why I’m struggling against the pills. I want to be knocked out cold when they do it. When he burns his mark into my skin.
I look down and watch him tie the belt around me and the post, hugging me to it.
“So you don’t move. So we only do it once.”
I don’t understand but I don’t care.
“Did you give her something?” I hear Gregory ask. “She’s out of it.”
“She’s fucking terrified, you asshole. How with it would you be if it was you tied to the damn post?”
“Fuck you.”
I hear the scuffle and I turn my head, rest my cheek against the post.
“I’m scared,” I manage, my eyes closing again. The last image I see is Gregory’s face, his eyes on me, the look inside them that tells me this isn’t what he wants. Not how he wants it.
But then he steps behind me and picks up my hair and puts the length of it over my shoulder and I scream when I feel him rip the sheath in two, the sound jarring as he bares my back, prepares it for the iron.
And then his hands that can be so cruel, so merciless, are warm and soft on my neck and he cups the back of my head and just before I pass out, he says something. I feel the whisper of his breath. Just a few words before I’m out, the pills doing their work, saving me from the heat of the fast approaching iron.26SebastianHelena’s passed out. The belt binding her to the post takes some of the pressure off her wrists, but her knees are bent and Gregory’s holding her head against the post or it would flop to the side.
