He studies me for a moment, his gaze digging into my soul. “No, Delilah. I’ll never rape you. When it comes to sex, you will choose me.”

I jerk back, tugging on our joined hands. He tightens his grip and pulls me closer. I glare up at him.

“No, I won’t.”

“Yes, you will.”

“How can you be so sure?”

He leans down and places his lips next to my ear, and his warm breath skims the side of my neck. I resist the shiver his nearness creates.

“How do I know?” he murmurs. “Because the cum on my hand tells me so.”

My face heats, and the sensation spreads to the rest of my body. I can still taste his kiss, feel his touch on my skin. On my clit.

I squeeze my thighs together, hoping my skirt hides the telltale movement. “Are you using me for some weird kink?”

“No.” He gazes down at me and slowly shakes his head. “This isn’t just a kink.”

“Then what is it?”

“A need.”

His tone is soft, but his admission is like a slap in the face. I stand there with my lips parted in surprise while my mind tries to make sense of what he just told me. Is this just a sexual need?

Or does he need me?

“We’re almost there,” Xavier says.

I squint, not recognizing the trees in front of me. That isn’t surprising, considering I ran through the forest like a bat out of hell.

All for nothing.

Tears of frustration gather in my eyes at my failure.

He stops and releases my hand to put his mask back on. I watch him, silently debating whether or not to make a run for it. It’s a stupid thought, but I can’t help it.

I’m so fucking scared. Of everything. Him. The order. The ceremony.

If I try to escape, Xavier will catch me. And then he’ll fuck me with everyone listening. Or even watching. I don’t want my first time to be like that.

“Listen carefully,” he says. He stares down at me, the slashes on his mask making my stomach churn with foreboding. “The recruits want to see you suffer. They get off on that shit. Especially the council member. Everyone saw the fight in you, and now they want to watch you break. Don’t give them the satisfaction.”

I narrow my gaze, tears long gone. “I heard your leader say that my behavior is a reflection on you. Is that why you’re telling me? So I don’t make you look bad?”

“No. I don’t give a fuck what they think.”

“Then why?”

He steps closer. “This is a test, and the Order expects you to fail. They want your fear,” he says.

“And what do you want?”

“Everything else.”

My breath hitches. Just as I’m about to ask him the question burning on my tongue, he takes my hand in his. The feel of his touch breaks my concentration.

What is it about him that has my mind going blank and my body becoming alert?

A woman’s scream shatters the night, echoing in the trees like the wail of an ambulance siren. The agonizing sound is immediately followed with masculine cheers and clapping. My heart slams against my ribcage. Was that Brenda or June crying out?

Xavier doesn’t so much as flinch. He squeezes my hand. I can’t tell if it’s a warning or to comfort me.

He pulls me behind him while anxiety claws at my insides. The trees around us create a wall of black spikes, their trunks covered in shadow. Too soon, the clearing comes into view, along with the recruits.

And the altar.

It’s a rectangular slab of stone. Possibly marble or granite, a dark gray speckled with silver and black flakes. Moss covers the base and the sides, hiding the weathered edges and some of the intricate carvings of long-forgotten symbols. Adjacent to it stands a single brazier, wrought from iron, its curved design hinting at ancient elegance. Smoldering embers cast an eerie glow upon the altar’s surface.

And June.

The sight of my friend lying on top of it almost makes me vomit. She sobs uncontrollably, her entire body shaking as though she’s having a seizure. The flames from the brazier dance on her tear-stained cheeks and torn dress, etching a haunting sorrowful portrait of her distress and suffering.

The recruit with the checkered mask standing directly behind the altar extends a hand to June. His masked face conceals whatever thoughts lie behind the cold demeanor that lines his shoulders. When she doesn’t take his hand, he reaches for her, assisting her down with his arm wrapped around her waist.

June stands on shaky legs and her hair sways back and forth like a curtain in a breeze. She clings to him, her sobs gradually subsiding as he whispers in her ear and she regains some semblance of composure. However, her tearful gaze never leaves the recruit.

“Votum meum tibi,1” he says, looking directly at the cloaked leader.

The council member nods in approval at the recruit. “Votum tuum receptum est.2”

The rest of the young men stand at a distance in a semi-circle, watching the exchange with rapt attention. I scan the crowd, searching for Ben. Once I find him, I can’t stomach looking at my foster brother anymore. He can’t help me now.

I keep my gaze on June as she’s led back to the group of recruits. Brenda lies on the ground at the feet of the guy with the dotted mask. Her expression is blank, as though she’s crawled so far into the recesses of her mind that she’s not mentally present. My heart breaks all over again.

I’m so happy I stabbed that motherfucker. And that he didn’t catch me.

He stands with his arms crossed, his gaze narrowed on Xavier. Then it shifts to me. And flashes with something malicious.

I return his stare. The hatred in his eyes drills into me from across the clearing, making my legs shake underneath my skirt. Even so, I don’t stop glaring at him. Instead, I pull on my rising anger and shield myself with it.

The cloaked leader claps slowly, breaking our staring contest. The man gestures to the empty altar with an outstretched hand and I gulp.

“The second bride has been claimed and branded to serve as a reminder of the power that binds them,” he says. “Only one remains.”

Xavier’s grip on my hand tightens when the leader looks in our direction. The man’s face might be covered with a mask, but I can feel the anticipation rolling off of him in waves. They crash into me, weakening my resolve.

Well, fuck this guy.

Xavier leans down, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s time.”

1 My vow to you.

2 Your vow is accepted.

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Chapter 29DELILAH

Xavier releases my hand to wrap a secure arm around my waist before guiding me over to the altar. The warmth of his skin battles with the chill coating me. The second I catch sight of a link of chains ending in a manacle, my brave façade cracks.

I nearly stumble as my feet get tangled up in one another. Xavier’s grip on me tightens, and he keeps me upright, preventing me from shame. And from escape.

I didn’t notice the metal restraints because they weren’t used on June. But now that I have, I can’t stop looking at them. Is he going to use them on me?

“Get on the altar and lie down,” Xavier says. When I don’t move, he leans down and lowers his voice for my ears only. “Show them your claws, little raptor.”

For some reason, his nickname for me adds a layer of emotional armor. It’s as though he’s on my side instead of the Order’s. I’m sure my thoughts are nothing more than a product of my stress, but I don’t care.

“They want your fear. Don’t give them the satisfaction.”

Xavier’s words float in my mind like a mantra, a war cry. I lift my chin and straighten my spine. I won’t let them break me. They won’t get my fear.