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Gracie stood as well. “The resting is about to start. I’ll leave you.”

He poured his gratitude into his stare and pulled Annalise fully into his arms. He continued to feed her, as her swallows remained shallow. Soon her skin would flush with his immortal life force, and her strength would return—stronger than ever before.

When the resting began and her lips pulled away, he closed the wound at his wrist and carried her to the bed. He stripped her of her wedding clothes, tossing the blood drenched garments on the floor, and washed her body of any markings.

He arranged her peacefully on the bed, drawing the covers over her chest. And the waiting began.

Her heart slowed until there was nothing. The room stood silent as a tomb. He watched her lips, awaiting her first new breath. He listened for the first rattle of her heart. He waited for the flutter of her pulse. He held his breath, studying her eyes, not wanting to miss the moment they opened.

Minutes felt like centuries. As time stretched his panic showed. His fingers glided over her chilled skin, too cold.

“Annalise,” he whispered, voice shaking. “Come back to me, ainsicht. I need you now.”

He swallowed. Her face rested, as unmoving as a china doll. Time atrophied. He forced himself to remain still and patient. But as the resting stretched on, he knew something had gone terribly wrong.

Chapter Forty-Three

Larissa’s muscles clenched with pent up rage as Silus paced at the doorway of their bedroom.

“You will not leave this room,” he ordered. “The Council requires my presence. I’ll not only have to aid in the sentencing of your brother but answer for your humiliating behavior tonight.”

Her heart heaved with worry. “Will you not speak on Cain’s behalf? He is your brother by law.”

“He’s nothing to me!” His eyes narrowed to pinholes, darker than his soul. “And you will not speak of him under my roof!” He gripped the door, removing the key from the lock. “Disobey me, and you will be punished.”

The door slammed and she flinched. The familiar sound of the lock turning preceded his footsteps. She preferred isolation to his company.

Her mind turned to Cain, her worry stifling. They would execute him. By now, the bonding was likely done, and Annalise irrevocably belonged to Adam. Cain was truly alone in this world, as was she.

Their abandonment of Cain, their unquestioning trust in Adam... She could not be in the middle. But there was no middle. No one cared that Cain had been called to the same woman as their brother. No one trusted what went against tradition.

The truth slapped her like iron, weighing her down to an unchanging place. There was no growth here. No escape. No hope.

Cain’s experience, his pull to a woman designed for someone else, proved that promised soul mates were not always the answer. They had been taught nothing but lies, promises from inexpert Elders, in order to keep them obedient and docile. And when those lies were exposed, the rabble-rousers were punished.

Larissa desired truth. She was through pretending. Her serene veneer had cracked long ago, and she was finished putting others before herself.

She’d find Cain and escape this place, once and for all. She’d never survive an eternity with Silus. There was no hope in this lonesome place.

The Elders would meet tonight. They’d want to deal with this situation swiftly and...

Her heart ached. If only she could speak on her brother’s behalf. But females were forbidden to attend Council meetings.

Silus was not an Elder, but with two of his forbearers on the Elder Council, he assumed an undeserved authority, and no one blinked an eye. His lust for power might be a secret to the Council, but she knew his desires to one day hold a position of influence.

She scowled at the door, her shoulders shaking with his imposed imprisonment. Her breath labored as her jaw locked. The walls of her sanity constricted until the indignant screams inside her head vibrated her spine.

Be the obedient wife...

Submit to your husband, he is your lord and master...

Fetch my shoes...

Lie still...

She sprung to her feet, eyes narrowing in the lock. Pulling back her lips, she hissed and kicked the door, splintering the wood into the hall.

She growled under her breath. Her nose lifted, scenting the air. The house was silent.

Her wrist twisted, her hand curling, claws digging into the wall like talons. She prowled through the silent hall, her nails scoring the plaster.

She threw open the front door and loomed at the front step. A prison behind her, the wide-open future ahead.

The moonlight cut through her nightgown as her bare feet pressed into the boggy ground. Black hair fanning down her back, she walked like a pagan into the woods.

The further she walked from her home, the faster her steps. Her heart beat steadily, its increasing tempo edging her on. Sprinting into a run, she raced through the trees. Branches whipped at her clothes and mud caked between her toes.

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