The Judas (Sacrilegious Love #2)

Chapter 1 Elior

Elior

I woke to the sound of steady beeping and bright white light piercing through my eyelids, making me wince. I opened them hesitantly, becoming even more disoriented from the unfamiliar ceiling above me.

My fingers clutched at the sheets covering me, needing texture, needing something solid, but they were smooth and thin and strange and didn’t smell anything like home.

A throbbing pain drew my attention to my hands.

The lash marks were purple and deep crimson, jolting my memory of what had just happened.

Father had been punishing me, and then there had been chaos. A field of screams and cries and pleas. I ran through the chaos in my mind, picking through snapshots, and landing on a kind lady in the back of a van—then, nothing.

I bolted upright, gasping, trying to see, trying to understand.

Where was I?

My breathing picked up too fast. Panic clogged my throat, making it impossible to get a full gulp of air in. I looked around, seeing nothing but white walls and scary machines.

The beeping, slow and steady at first, was now wild, and another, louder noise suddenly joined in. I flinched at the sound like it was about to strike me.

Too loud, too bright, too loud, too bright, too loud, too loud, too loud, too loud—

“Elior?” a voice said tentatively from the doorway.

I scrambled back, pushing myself as close to the head of the bed as humanly possible, using the thin blanket as a shield.

Fear shredded through me. A tugging sensation on my arm drew my attention, and I looked down quickly, horror dawning on me as I saw a needle protruding from my skin, held in place with tape and attached to a long, thin tube that led to hanging bags of liquid.

A tall, lithe woman stepped in slowly, her hands lifted a little, as if she were approaching a frightened child. She wore a soft green sweater, dark jeans, and an ID badge around her neck.

“Hey there,” she said softly. “It’s okay, you’re safe. My name is—”

“No.” The word tore out before I could stop it. “No, I—where—where’s Father?” My throat burned as I tried to swallow, and my cheek stung harshly as I moved my mouth, reminding me of the cut there. “Where’s Daddy?”

She paused. That hesitation was worse than anything. It meant something terrible.

“Elior,” she said gently, “you’re in a medical unit for victims of—”

“I’m not—I didn’t—I didn’t betray anyone.”

The woman’s brows pulled together, and she took another step into the room. “Of course not. You’re not in any trouble. My name is Elena, and I—”

“Where’s Jace?” My voice cracked. “He was—he…”

With the strangers.

With the ones who hurt Father.

With the ones who dragged us apart.

Father’s voice slammed into my skull like a fist. “He’s with them, Elior. He’s with the enemy. He turned you against me. Judas. Jezebel.”

My breath faltered.

Was Father right?

Was that why I was here?

“I didn’t mean to,” I whispered, not sure who I was talking to—the woman, God, Father, Jace, or myself. “I don’t—I don’t know what happened. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

The woman’s hazel eyes were heavy with pity. “No, you didn’t. Elior,” she said quietly, “you’ve been through something very traumatic.”

I shook my head, tears spilling hot across my face and causing what may have been the last thing ever given to me by Father to sting from the saltiness. “No, I just… I have to go back. I need to go—I need to see Father, I need to—”

My chest tightened, unbearably so. The beeping spiked, getting louder and faster again. My chin trembled as the room blurred at the edges.

Too loud, too loud. “Please, make it stop!” I begged, holding my hands to my ears. “No, no—please—”

I swayed where I sat, the world tipping sideways. The woman stepped closer, saying something I couldn’t make out—her words stretched and warped like they were underwater. My ears rang. My heart pounded so fast it felt like it couldn’t keep up.

I reached for breath, but found none.

And then it was dark once more.

I surfaced slowly sometime later. Not waking—just surfacing, like something heavy still pinned me down somewhere deep. My limbs felt thick, my thoughts cottony, and my eyelids glued together. Voices floated nearby, muffled around the edges.

“…obviously overstimulated,” a man hissed, sounding frustrated. “You’re supposed to be trained on these things, aren’t you?”

The woman replied, curt but also tired, “I assure you, I am. He wouldn’t be this reactive if he hadn’t trauma-bonded with one of your agents. You all put him in this position. I will do my best for him, but it’s not going to be easy.”

“He’s not my agent, Elena. You can’t blame the entire FBI for the reckless mistakes of one man.”

I shifted slightly, a pathetic movement, but it sent a wave of dizziness crashing through me. Something tugged at my arm again—the needle, still there. I whimpered without meaning to.

Their whispering cut off.

The man from the raid, the one who’d known Daddy, stepped into view in the doorway as if summoned. I couldn’t remember his name. His dark, soulful eyes found mine instantly. Something like guilt flickered across his face before he turned back to the woman.

“Stay out,” he told her, low but firm. “Let me handle this.”

She opened her mouth as if to argue, then pressed her lips together and stepped back out of sight. I heard the faint scuff of her boots as she moved away, though she didn’t go far.

The man came into the room slowly, pulling a chair up beside the bed. He sat, elbows resting loosely on his knees, palms open like he was trying to show me he wasn’t hiding anything.

I still curled tighter around myself.

“Elior,” he said carefully, voice lowered. “I want to apologize for the way we met. I was a bit stressed, if you can imagine.” He paused, frowning. “I’d like to reintroduce myself. My name’s Aarev Patel.”

My head swam again—a fog of utter exhaustion rolling in waves—but I forced myself to look at him. Patel. Daddy had been arguing with him.

“You…” My voice was a rasp. “You know Jace.”

He ran his hand over his short beard, eyes shutting in a grimace. When he opened them, he sighed and looked at me. “I do.”

“Where is he?” I asked immediately. Panic flickered, even through the fog. “Is he… is he okay? Is he here?”

Patel exhaled through his nose, controlled and slow, like he’d practiced this kind of thing before. “He’s just… talking to some people,” he said.

Something in the way he said it—too careful, too measured—made the room feel unstable again.

“Is he—”

Patel lifted a steadying hand. “He’s fine,” he added quickly.

My eyes flicked around the room, searching for something—anything—I recognized. But everything I saw was strange. Still… it wasn’t as blinding as before.

The lights weren’t hurting me anymore.

My gaze drifted upward to the ceiling panels. The harsh glow from earlier was gone, replaced by a softer, warmer hue that didn’t stab into my skull.

Patel must’ve noticed me squinting around, because he said quietly, “The lights were too bright for you when you woke up the first time. I dimmed them.”

I blinked at him, trying to process that.

“Oh,” I whispered. It felt like the only word I could manage.

“You seemed overwhelmed,” he went on, still keeping his tone gentle. “I thought making it a little calmer in here might help.”

Help.

That didn’t make sense.

“You shouldn’t…” I swallowed hard, my throat raw. “You shouldn’t help me.”

His brows pulled slightly together. “Why not?”

“Because—” The rest caught in my chest. I shook my head, suddenly nauseous.

Patel didn’t push. He just watched me with that unreadable expression, the one that made it feel like he was piecing something together in his mind. The room felt too small again. Too close. Too full of someone else’s gaze.

I looked away, down at my lap, at my hands twisted in the blanket.

“Elior,” Patel said softly, “you’re not in trouble. You’re safe here. No one is angry with you.”

My breath hitched.

He didn’t understand.

He couldn’t understand.

I felt like the space behind my ribs was packed with something heavy—stones, dirt, something horribly suffocating.

“But Father said…” The words escaped before I could stop them. “He said—I betrayed him—that I let the enemy inside. That I… I let this happen. This is all my fault. I don’t deserve any help.”

Patel inhaled deeply, like he was trying to ground himself. “I’m very sorry he said those things to you, but you didn’t betray anyone, Elior.”

“You don’t know that,” I whispered, voice cracking.

“I don’t even know what I did. Everything happened so fast, and he was so angry, and he said Jace—” I cut myself off, my vision swimming.

The fog in my mind thickened, warm and slow and slippery, making it hard to sort anything into shapes that made sense.

Patel leaned forward. “Elior,” he said, “None of what happened was your fault.”

My eyes filled with tears again.

I hated that. I hated crying in front of strangers.

“Where is he?” I whispered again, voice trembling. “Jace?”

Patel’s jaw tightened, a subtle but unmistakable reaction. “He’s being debriefed by our superiors. It’s just part of the process.”

“Debriefed,” I repeated, trying to wrap my sluggish mind around the word. It felt too big, too official, too far away from the world I understood. “What—what does that mean?”

“It just means he’s talking to some people about what happened,” he answered. “I’m sure he’ll come see you when he can,” he added carefully, “but until then, I’ll be here to answer your questions. Deal?”

I let out a shaky breath, hands still trembling in my lap.

“Okay,” I whispered, even though nothing felt okay.

At least the lights didn’t hurt anymore.

“Do you understand what happened, Elior?” he asked.

I shook my head.

The movement made the room wobble. Patel noticed immediately and waited, giving the dizziness time to pass instead of filling the silence.