Chapter 25
The forest is eerie at night.
Ancient trees cast elongated shadows in the moonlight, turning the grass-covered earth into a sea of black. In contrast, Brenda, June, and I stand there, covered in snowy white dresses that are blinding against the dark background.
There’s no way we can hide.
My heartbeat echoes in my ears, growing louder with every passing moment until I’m deafened by my fear. The other girls’ expressions mirror my own, a mixture of horror, reluctant acceptance, and anticipation. No one has said it out loud, but we’re all determined to get out of our contract by reaching the edge of the forest.
If not, we’re fucking fucked.
I glance at the trees, waiting for someone to emerge from the shadows. Although I’ve been waiting for their arrival since I first stepped outside, I’m still shocked when it happens. One by one, each man appears, completely covered in black clothing.
And a mask.
Every single one has a white background with black designs. Some have splotches over the eyes, while others have streaks or tribal-like markings. One has nothing except black dots on it, reminding me of an old-school hockey mask.
I’m sure the masks and the colors symbolize something. I just don’t know what. And have no intention of staying long enough to find out.
The group enters the clearing and creates a semi-circle around us. Mrs. Emerson watches from a distance, clearly waiting for something. Or someone.
I squeeze the shit out of June’s hand, and she grunts but doesn’t pull away. In fact, she returns the gesture. Brenda stays close to me, pressing her side to mine, lending me her body heat.
The wind chooses that moment to stir, creating gooseflesh on my skin. I shiver from both the cold, the damp grass under my bare feet, and the gazes of the men staring at me. Their eyes, the only visible feature, glint with intensity.
And hunger.
Even though I’m mentally one scream away from a padded room, I hold my ground and lift my chin. Fuck these guys.
And Ben, if he’s willing to participate in this type of thing.
I scan the men, searching for anyone similar in build and height to my foster brother. There are nine of them, and three could be him based on hair color.
“Ah, fuck,” a recruit mutters.
My ears perk up. I recognize that voice. I know that “fuck.”
I hone in on the speaker, narrowing my gaze as if I can see through his mask, the one that has a black patch over the left eye. It has to be Ben. Adrenaline combines with betrayal in some fucked-up cocktail streaming through my blood.
Right when I’m about to walk over to him, another figure appears. This one is different from the rest. He has a mask on, but it’s pure black. There’s also a black cloak covering him from head to foot, concealing his imposing frame.
Every member of the fraternity looks in his direction. And by fraternity, I mean a fucking cult.
There”s an aura of power to this man that has chills running down the back of my neck. The recruits keep their focus on him, their gazes never straying. He comes to stand in the gap between us and the younger men, and gestures for us to kneel.
I stiffen in disdain, but June yanks on my arm, pulling me down. The grass beneath me is cool and slightly damp, the moisture clinging to my skirt. I dig my nails into the dirt to keep silent, and to stop myself from flipping this guy off.
“Mors solum initium,” he says.
Every recruit repeats the phrase, their voices becoming one sound. It’s melodic, a deep baritone that echoes through the clearing. I know it’s Latin, but I have no clue what it means. Or if I even want to know.
The man clasps his hands behind his back. “You will be ranked according to skill and execution. Not only tonight, but in the upcoming Trials and every area the council deems worthy. The top three recruits will automatically be selected as crows and given first choice in assignments. These brides are my gift to you.”
He points in our direction. I glare up at him, not bothering to hide my irritation until June sways into me. I’m quick to steady her. We exchange a glance, and her eyes beg me to stay quiet.
“Let there be no misconceptions,” he continues. “A bride will never be a crow’s wife. But she can be a recruit’s prize. She represents your standing within the ranks, as well as the victories you’ve earned through prowess, cunning, and strength. How she acts is a reflection of you. This arrangement is temporary but highly indicative of how you will utilize power once you’ve been given a taste. And this, gentlemen…”
He leans down and snatches my upper arm, yanking me to my feet. “This type of power is only the beginning.”
When I rear back, he tightens his hold, his fingers digging into lace and skin. I suck in a breath at the pain and the scent of his cologne fills my nose. It’s expensive, soothing to the senses, yet crisp with a hint of smoke.
“What if we get out of our contract?” I ask through clenched teeth. “Will you leave us alone?”
He laughs, the sound like poison in my veins, making me ill. “I might be a man without morals, but I do have a code of justice. If you can break the tree line, you will walk away from this, sworn to secrecy for the rest of your life. Or it’ll be forfeit.”
“I’d rather be sworn to secrecy than to a year of servitude.”
“This one,” he says, shaking me, “is going to be fun to break, recruits.”
“If they fucking catch me,” I snap, raising my voice for everyone to hear.
He yanks me to him, and I slam against his chest, the impact jarring me. My bare feet struggle to gain purchase on the grass. When I’m standing, I jerk up my head and stare into his eyes. The gray behind the mask pierces me, stabbing my vulnerability and making it bleed.
“One of them will catch you, bride. And when they do, I’ll enjoy watching you be tamed.”
My stomach heaves at the implication. I’m not certain what he means exactly, but it doesn’t matter. I’m going to run like fucking Forrest Gump or die trying.
Before I can come up with a response, the man releases me. I stumble back and immediately right myself, lifting my chin with a glare aimed in his direction. He ignores me and goes back to addressing the recruits.
“Remember the rules. No killing. Everything else is permissible.”
Is he talking about us? Or them in regard to each other? Neither answer gives me comfort.
I take up my spot next to June. She stares at me with stark terror gripping her features while Brenda trembles next to me. I wish I could say something reassuring to them, but nothing comes to mind. The only thing I can focus on is getting out of this contract by whatever means necessary.
“Brides,” the leader says, “your time begins in five…”
My heart lurches in my chest as I bend my knees in preparation to bolt.
“Four…”
I look at June, encouraging her without words that we can do this. Although fear is like a corset around my ribcage, making it hard for me to breathe.
“Three…”
With my fists by my sides, I stare straight ahead, ignoring the men around me. Their gazes are ravenous, like a pack of wolves about to be set on a lamb. I might be wearing white, but my soul is dark enough to give them hell.
“Two…”
Fuck this guy.
“One.”
I take off.
In that moment, I forget about everything and everyone except myself and my need for freedom. If I get out of this nightmare, I’ll be in a better position to help June and Brenda. Maybe.
The wind whistles past my ears. It blows loose strands of hair across my face, the silky pieces sticking to my lips. I don’t take the time to fix it.
Every second counts. I can’t spare a single one.
My feet pound against the earth in time with my rapid heartbeats. Every sound is now heightened. The rustling leaves. My breaths. A snapping twig. But the loudest noises are my thoughts.
Faster. FASTER. FASTER.
Ahead, the moon casts a spotlight through the treetops. It’s beautiful, peaceful, and completely at odds with the terror streaming through my body.
I continue forward, keeping my path straight to achieve the shortest distance to my goal. The forest plays tricks on my senses, casting menacing shadows on uneven terrain.
I trip and stumble. Then push through, never stopping as fear bites at my heels like a rabid animal. The forest is a blur as I weave through the natural labyrinth. However, my motivation is clear.
Don’t get caught, or I’ll face something worse than death. A complete loss of freedom.
A flash of movement catches my eye.
My heart stops. Panic takes over, and I pivot, making a hard left turn. And then another.
The recruit chasing me mimics my steps, his speed eclipsing mine. He closes the distance between us and grabs my forearm.
The pull on my arm causes me to come to an abrupt halt. Pain shoots from my shoulder like a blaze of fireworks.
“Fuck!” I gasp.
The masked figure yanks me in his direction. I lean into the momentum, spinning toward him with my other arm raised. My elbow connects with his stomach, and he grunts.
Before he can trap my arm between our bodies, I reach up and grip my hair pin. The man’s eyes widen in surprise when I drive the pointed end into the soft skin of his neck, just under the dotted mask.
The leader said no killing, but everything else is fair game, including stabbing.
“Bitch!”
His expletive is followed by a sharp inhale as his hold loosens. I capitalize on the momentary weakness and break free, ripping the hair pin from his flesh. Then I spin on my heel, only to find another masked recruit materializing right in front of me, blocking my path.
Trapped between two men, I frantically scan my surroundings for the best escape route. The first recruit quickly recovers from my attack and lunges for me. I shriek in outrage and leap back.
Just as he’s about to grab me, a blur of movement disrupts him. The newcomer knocks his arm away and plants himself by my side, so close I can feel the heat of his body.
“She’s a fighter,” the newcomer says.
Recognition zips through me like an eclectic shock.
He cocks his head and the black gashes on his mask glint under the moonlight. “You sure you can handle her?”
The other recruit with the dotted mask flips him off. “I’ll do more than handle her. I’m going to fuck the fight right out of her.”
I retreat a step. The action has both men shifting their attention to me. Despite the tremors wracking my limbs, I stand there, keeping my head held high. “Why don’t you guys fuck each other? I’m sure your holes are tighter than mine.”
The newcomer laughs. “This bride is definitely mine.”
“Fuck off, X. If you’re lucky, I’ll let you have her.” He looks at me with a narrowed gaze, his eyes blazing. “After I’ve stretched every one of her holes.”
“No names,” Xavier says, a hint of warning in his voice. “That’ll cost you.” He turns his head to stare deep into my eyes. “Run, little raptor. I’m coming for you.”