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“Guide us, True North,” Alistair says. “Lead us down the righteous path.”
“Your light will pierce the shadows of our souls,” Ben murmurs, the sound cutting through the fog of my fear.
“Redemption through her purity,” Charlie whispers, his hands clasped as if in prayer.
“Salvation in the sacrifice,” Damien states, head bowed low.
I stagger, my limbs aching with cold and panic. Their words are poison, a sick liturgy for a ritual I never asked to be part of. My name, my body, they’re going to claim it all for their twisted cause.
“No!” I choke out, the word a shard of glass in the silence. “I’m not your fucking messiah.”
They look up, startled, as if seeing me clearly for the first time. But there’s no understanding in those eyes, only a deep, unsettling hunger.
Alistair stands. “You are light and eternity.”
“In Light, Truth; In Eternity, Unity.” Ben rises as well and fixes me with a solemn stare.
“Ever, your defiance changes nothing,” Alistair adds in a more normal tone now. “There is no refusal. You belong to us.”
With a flick of his wrist, he dismisses theChancellor and the other four men who drag Stanley’s dead body into the shadows of the chamber back the way they came, leaving behind an oppressive silence.
Ben and Charlie move toward me. I’m shaking so hard my teeth chatter. They unhook the chains from the wall, but the cuffs stay around my wrists.
I’m naked and vulnerable, and my legs can barely hold me up as they lead me across the chamber.
“Easy,” Charlie murmurs, his grip on my arm both restraining and steady as I slip in more of Stanley’s blood.
The only thing holding back the urge to purge my stomach of its contents is the thought that if I’m locked down here for an indeterminate amount of time, I’ll have to live with the stink of it, and there’s enough horror down here already with Stanley’s blood everywhere.
The altar looms, huge and covered in a soft red velvet. A red satin pillow rests at the top, The men help me up, positioning me where they want me.
“Please...” My plea dies in my throat as they lift my arms and fasten them to a hook above the altar. The chains rattle, echoing off the walls, a sinister symphony to my entrapment.
“Stop struggling, It will hurt less,” Ben murmurs gently, but his voice is distant, lost in the rush of blood in my ears. I can’t stop, though; every fibre of my being screams to fight, to flee.
“Shh,” Charlie soothes as if calming a spooked horse, but his hands join Ben’s as they push back onmy shoulders, pinning me down with surprising strength. “Just relax.”
I buck against their hold, my skin sliding against the velvet. But the more I fight, the tighter their grip becomes. Frantically glancing around, I see Damien standing off to one side, his gaze unwavering as he takes in the sight of me laid out on this altar. It can mean only one thing.
“Damn you all,” I gasp, the words tearing from my lips. But they’re empty curses, lost in the vastness of the chamber and the madness that fills it.
Alistair moves closer, too close, his shadow falling over me like a shroud.
“Ever,” he murmurs, and I flinch, not from the chill but from the darkness laced in his tone. His voice doesn’t have to rise above a whisper to fill the chamber, to wrap around my mind like chains. “This pain and suffering is only a prelude to the pleasure I’ll give you.”
My skin crawls as if his words are living things scuttling across my flesh—fear knots in my throat, tight and suffocating.
“Fight or yield,” he continues, his tone velvet over steel, “it makes no difference. Either way, you’ll be mine tonight.”
“Stop,” I whisper, hating how my voice breaks. But they don’t listen. Ben’s mouth closes over my nipple, drawing a gasp from my lips at the warmth. Charlie’s fingers are cruel in their gentleness, circling my clit, stirring a response I’m powerless to quell.
“Fuck,” I hiss as unwanted pleasure spirals withinme. Their touches weave a confusing tapestry of fear and arousal, leaving me trembling beneath them.
Ben reaches out to tweak my other nipple, rolling the tender peak between his fingers with a knowing pressure that sends an involuntary jolt of sensation straight to my core. Charlie’s strokes become more insistent, coaxing moans from my lips despite my resolve to remain silent as my pussy betrays me and goes damp from their attention.
I can’t look away from Alistair; his eyes are dark pools, holding promises and threats in equal measure. He spreads my legs, naked and triumphant as Ben and Charlie push down on the tops of my thighs to stop me from struggling. The head of Alistair’s cock nudges at my entrance, and I brace for the pain.
“There’s nowhere to hide from this,” Alistair tells me in a voice that rumbles like distant thunder. He holds his hand out, and Damien steps forward, placing something on his palm. Alistair squeezes the tube of lube and rubs it all over his cock before he presses his fingers to my pussy.
