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“Early morning. It’s still dark out.”
“Good.” She nods, lost in thought.
Moving towards the door, her right knee buckles under her weight. I’m by her side in a heartbeat, aching to support her, but she holds up her hand as if to tell me she’s fine. She’s not fine, but even here in this dire environment, crushed under her brother’s heel, she’s still fighting for her independence.
In that moment, I know.
As much as I’m itching to kill everyone who ever laid hands on her, tonight I will bear witness instead. I can recognize bloodlust when I see it. And hers burns bright like the fires of hell.
I’m fighting against the searing need to coddle her but instead take a step back. I let her straighten herself, understanding her desire to do this alone. Even if it’s just walking out of this room on her own two feet.
She stops near the door and looks down at her bare feet, then over to her shoes. The vulnerability swimming in her expression when her eyes find mine cracks me wide open.
“Could you?” she says in a barely audible whisper, her voice cracking against the vowels.
I’m sinking to my knees before she even manages to finish her sentence. Resting one hand on the wall beside her, she holds out her foot and I slip the shoe on, doing the same with the other. I look up at her, and watch a lone tear fall down her cheek, her tongue swiping out to lick it away when it touches her lips.
“Thank you,” she murmurs.
Those two words hold the weight of everything left unsaid.
“Always,” I whisper, pressing a kiss on the scars peppering her left thigh before standing back up.
Chapter 45
Connor’smenarelikewraiths in the night, occupying every corner of the compound. Meanwhile, the men who degraded me, sleep soundly in their beds, dreaming of their righteousGod, leaving the rest of us to suffer under the weight of their sins.
It’s near dawn now and Connor and I are cloaked under the shadows of the Redwood forest. It sits at the edge of the commune’s property, there are no houses or buildings here save for one small chapel. It’s a humble wooden thing, built by my father’s hand, tucked under the canopy of trees near the forest’s edge with a large pond flanking it. It’s no longer used for community sermons, the size of the commune having outgrown it.
It doesn’t mean it’s abandoned, however.
There’s only one path to reach the chapel and from our position, we’re facing it. The weight of Connor’s leather jacket on my shoulders is comforting. Having nothing to wear but that same soiled white slip dress, he insisted I wear something of his. It smells like him, earthy but also somehow bright, and it anchors me, reminding me of Lenix. His fingers keep finding my skin while we wait, small soft strokes as if he needs continuous reassurance that I’m real, that I’m here with him, not still lost.
Most of the sky is still an undisturbed expanse of navy blue, but the horizon is yawning awake over the pond. It brightens the edge of the woods, and the rustle of leaves makes it feel like the forest is arising with it.
A branch cracks and my gaze snaps to the people approaching the chapel. I knew I’d find them here. Observing a tradition that precedes even them. Every morning, the inner circle, first of my father’s, now Frederick’s, meets at the chapel before the morning sermon.
I smile, anticipating what’s to come. Connor’s warm lips find my nape presumably knowing what feelings are somersaulting inside of me. I look back over to him, my smile widening, it feels almost manic but I don’t care. The brand on my hip is still on fire, and I’m aching to finally have an outlet for the rising ire still hot inside of me.
We watch as a few more join the others already inside. I’m not surprised to find the same men who were involved in my punishment here this morning, including Patrick. I was horrified, yet not shocked to learn Lucy had been forced to marry him in my stead after I ran away.
Lucy’s now safe. Bastian took her far away from here as we stayed behind. She doesn’t know what I’m about to do. I pray she’ll forgive me. I would rather live an eternity with her resentment than know she’s still trapped here with Patrick and our brother. Nausea rises at the thought of what he most likely did to her, and the anticipation becomes unbearable. I shift my weight from one foot to the other. Connor’s hands run up and down my arms, the heat of his body surrounding me.
“Soon, my darling. Just a few more minutes,” he whispers in my ear.
Taking a deep breath, I notice a flock of birds against the morning sky while the seconds slowly tick by. Until finally,finally, it’s time and my adrenaline soars just like the birds above.
I’m out of body.
Hurried steps down to the chapel.
The crunch of gravel underneath my feet.
Hushed breaths out of my mouth.
The old wooden steps leading up to the door creak beneath my weight, the beat of my own pulse thrumming against my eardrum as I look back over to Connor. He grins and winks in reassurance, following me up the stairs like a haunting dream filled with retribution.
For the men inside, I’m their nightmare.
