Page 1 of Reverence

Prologue

The wicked always lingered in the darkness, bleeding into the shadows where an umbra became their home, where they’d often hide from the luminescence.

When they decided to emerge from their hiding places, they’d disguise themselves underneath a pretentious cloak—masking their true intentions, playing everyone around them like a marionette.

Once trust entered the equation, they’d take advantage of the opportunity only to exploit it. Finally letting the mask slip, just enough for you to see their ferocious nature.

Unfortunately, not everyone who encountered wickedness would live to tell the tale, for silence is what protected their secrets, wrongdoings, and sin.

One

Amala

Resentment often tasted bittersweet.

Your mind warned you of the dangers that came with it, a battle between logic and emotion.

Hatred could potentially consume you, control you, or worse, you’d end up becoming the person you hated.

“Why don’t you just tap out already?” Ares asked, tightening his arm around my neck. He held me in a merciless chokehold.

His condescending tone added fuel to the raging inferno that burned inside of my very being.

I held onto his forearm, digging my nails into the skin until they pierced right through.

He grunted and I watched the blood slowly trickle along his flesh, the crimson liquid seemed like a fitting representation of my abhorrent feelings towards him.

The back of my body was pressed firmly against the front of his. His large frame felt rock solid. “No.” I practically wheezed.

I gritted my teeth, feeling the air slowly escaping my lungs. Asher Braun, our Special Agent in Charge forced us to partner during our sparring sessions. He said he’d keep pairing us until we learnt to cooperate.

If I didn’t escape this manoeuvre, I’d definitely pass out due to the lack of air.

I slipped my left hand underneath his forearm and tightened my hold on the top of it with my right hand.

With all of the strength I could muster, I slowly pried his arm away from my neck and when there was enough space for me to move, I tossed my head back with brutal force.

Based on the sound of his groan and the way his hold faltered I figured I struck him directly against the mouth or nose.

His stance weakened so I flipped him onto his back. The man weighed more than me, so I had to use all of my energy and strength.

He huffed in pain when his body collided with the ground and that’s when I placed my foot on his neck. “You should tap out.” I breathed heavily, my chest rising and falling.

He attempted to remove my foot but I applied more pressure. His glare pierced my soul but I held his gaze.

Combat practice was now officially my favorite activity. He clenched his jaw, nearly crushing my foot with his unrelenting hold on it but I refused to show him any mercy.

He used his left hand, tapping the grey mat underneath him thrice. “Fine. I fucking tap.” He groaned and that’s when I slowly removed my foot from his throat.

He quickly sat up, rubbing the affected area.

If looks could kill I’d be six feet under due to his venomous gaze but he’d be buried right beside me as I glared at him.

I folded my arms across my chest, rolling my eyes. With swift movements he rose to his feet, his biceps flexing as he moved.

This was the first time I caught a glimpse of the tattoo covering the entirety of his right arm because whilst on duty he always wore long-sleeved shirts or jackets.

“You’re always under the impression that you’ve got the advantage but in the end I’ll always reign victorious, Valiente.”