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I make to grab for her, but the door is opened and Hildebrand, with a big smile on his face, reenters followed by his two men.
He walks around the desk and gathers up the pages. “Please, take your bride and prepare her for the marking. I look forward to bearing witness.”
I grip Willow’s arm and walk her toward the door.
“Tell me, Azrael,” Hildebrand starts, making us pause and turn back to him. His arrogant tone making me remember why I don’t interact any more than necessary with The Society and its members. “Will you keep up the Delacroix tradition and use the iron? Salomé mentioned you might. And I suppose given the circumstances…” He trails off, every breath calculated, and turns to Willow. “Do you know, young lady, that in Europe witches were burned at the stake? The colonies were… gentler.”
“Gentler?” Willow goes to take a step toward the old man, but I hold her back.
“Your ancestor was hanged for witchcraft, was she not? On Proctor’s Ledge, I believe. A mercy.”
Willow’s face is stone, her eyes bright and glistening to overflowing.
“So, Azrael, will it be fire tonight?” The Councilor asks, almost unable to hide his excitement at the prospect of a branding.
Willow looks up at me, and it’s neither defiance nor fear I see. It’s pain.
I look at the old man. “I’ll thank you to keep your comments about my wife’s family to yourself in the future, Councilor. In fact, going forward, you will address only me, not my wife. And no, I won’t use the iron. I suppose I will disappoint both you and my grandmother tonight.”
9
AZRAEL
I keep hold of her as we walk in silence down the stairs of the Tribunal building and out into the courtyard. The witnesses are gathered at the far end, near the canopy. I stop and turn Willow toward me.
“Do you need a minute?”
She glares up at me. Her eyeliner is smeared where she wiped it with the backs of her hands and her skin is flushed.
“I don’t need you to stand up for me. I can take care of myself. You’re not some fucking hero for telling that asshole off on my behalf, if that’s what you think.”
“Hero?” I’m taken aback.
“I neither need nor want anything from you, Azrael Delacroix. I may be your wife, but it’s only because I had no choice. Remember that. Remember that if I had any choice at all, if my family’s safety didn’t depend wholly on my submitting to you, I wouldn’t be here. I would never choose this. And I certainly would never choose you!”
I feel my expression hardening along with my hand on her arm. She winces and tries to tug free. I loosen my grip. Her words cut in a way that is unexpected, although why would it be? She’s only telling the truth.
“But I do agree with you on one thing,” she continues. “Let’s get this over and done with. So go ahead and put your fucking mark on me. Do your worst. You’ve already taken everything from me. What more can you do? What more can you take?”
At that, I laugh outright. “What more?” I pull her to me, our bodies touching, and bend down so my face is an inch from hers. “You should be very careful what you say because there is always more that can be done. More that can be taken.” She tries to tug free, but I keep her close. “Now here’s what’s going to happen next. I’m going to give you some choices since you seem to want those. Ready?”
“Fuck you.”
“You're going to choose to keep your eyes on the ground and walk at my side to the canopy there, and when I say kneel, you are going to choose to kneel.”
“Never!”
“Then you’re going to choose to submit to having your wrists bound. Hell, maybe I’ll even collar you, and you’re going to choose to bow your head low when I do.”
“I will never bow to you!”
“I’m going to take my time putting my mark on your pretty little neck, and when I’m finished, you’re going to choose to thank me, your Lord and your God.”
She snorts.
“And if you don’t choose to do all of those things, well, then I’m going to assume you’ve chosen to take the consequences instead.”
“What consequences?” she spits at me. She sounds defiant as hell, but I hear the sliver of fear there too.
“I’ll surprise you. I can be creative too. Now let’s go. Get this done, like you said. It’s time to make your choices.”
A hush falls over the crowd as we cross the courtyard. I’m sure the men gathered are hard at the thought of what they get to witness tonight. I get it. The thought of Willow Wildblood on her knees before me gets me hard, too. Even knowing the little I know of her, I have a feeling she’ll make poor choices tonight, so I’m not surprised when she gives every man we pass a glare as we take our place beneath the canopy.
