Chapter 17 Ophelia #2
“The ceremony is short,” Abelard intones, as if that matters. “When the mark is ready, you will kneel, swear fealty, and make the pledge. Your father did the same. As did his. As will your son, if he survives.”
The smoke is thicker now. The iron glows at the edges.
Valence joins Abelard at the furnace, eyes never leaving Caius. “You may kneel, Mr. Montgomery.”
Caius doesn’t move at first. I can see the war in him—the tradition drilled into his bones, the absolute revulsion at what they’re making him do. For a second, I think he might bolt, throw the iron through the stained glass, and drag me out with him. But that’s not how the story goes.
He lets go of my wrist. Kneels at the edge of the circle, fists on his thighs.
Abelard positions himself behind him, hand resting on his head like a benediction.
“Repeat after me,” Abelard says. “I, Caius Montgomery, do pledge my blood and my line to the Academy.”
Caius’s voice is steady but he squeezes my hand. A plea? A moment of vulnerability? “I, Caius Montgomery, do pledge my blood and my line to the Academy.”
“I accept the burden of legacy. I bind myself to my chosen, in body and in mind, in accordance with the Law.”
Caius repeats it, word for word.
“I surrender my will, my seed, and my offspring to the service of the Academy.”
Caius hesitates, lips parting. He looks up at me—just a flick, so fast no one else might see. There’s a question in his eyes, or maybe just an apology.
He says the words anyway.
The iron is white-hot now, the crest glowing like a hellish smile.
Abelard retrieves it, moving slow, milking the moment for every ounce of fear. He doesn’t address me directly, but he gestures with his free hand, palm out.
“Miss Morrow, you will present your shoulder.”
I want to run. My body won’t do it. I want to scream, but my voice has been scrubbed raw by the acid of the last two days. All I can do is stand, arms limp, and stare at the iron coming for me.
Caius looks at me again. This time, there’s nothing but violence in his face. Not at me—never at me. At them.
Abelard steps forward, iron poised.
“Hold her,” he says.
He hands Caius the brand, and all Cai does is stare at it, agony flashing across his face.
He’s pale, sweat beading at his forehead.
For a moment, I think he’s going to do it—take the iron, complete the ritual, cement the curse on my flesh.
Instead, he grips the handle, lifts it, and sets it gently, almost reverently, on the marble at his feet.
It rings. Not a clang—a clear, defiant chime that bounces off every wall and hangs there, refusing to die.
Caius stands tall, hands empty. He looks at the Board with an expression I’ve never seen before—pure contempt, sharpened into something dangerous.
“You don’t own me,” he says. His voice is quiet, but it carries. “And you sure as hell don’t own her.”
A gasp, sharp and scandalized, from someone on the platform. Valence’s jaw drops; her tongue darts out, licking a dry lip.
Abelard’s eyes narrow. He doesn’t move, but his voice is suddenly so hard it could cut glass.
“The Vicious Kings are watching. The Funders. Your father. If you walk out of here now, you forfeit everything. Your place. Your legacy.”
Caius doesn’t answer. He just steps to my side, hand catching mine, fingers wrapping around like a shield.
He turns his back to the dais. The ultimate disrespect.
“Come on, O,” he whispers. “We’re done here. Consider this my resignation from my position, my pledge null and void. You will never lay a hand on my bride, and you will never see, let alone raise my children. Fuck you all. Let’s go home, baby girl.”
He doesn’t have to say it twice.
We walk, not run. Every step is a dare. The Board is silent, stunned into stillness. Caius opens the doors so violently, I swear they almost got torn off their hinges..
As we pass under the gaze of the ancestral portraits, I feel every dead founder’s eyes burning a hole in my back.
Disappointment.
Failure.
Loser.
We walk down the stairs and back towards the Feral Boys wing, but before we get there Caius lets go of my hand, only to turn and face me. His eyes are wild, alive in a way I’ve never seen. He’s shaking. So am I.
“What now?” I ask, voice small and raw.
He gives a smile that’s all teeth and trouble.
“Now we make our own fucking rules.”
I laugh, or maybe sob. I don’t know anymore.
We walk down the empty hall, every footstep a declaration, every breath a rebellion.
Just before we turn the corner, I look back.
No one follows.
I lean into Caius, the warmth of his body grounding me. My injuries throb with every beat of my heart, but I don’t mind.
“I thought you were going to do it.” I release a shaky breath.
He pauses, looking down at me. “I wasn’t sure what I would do, to be honest, but the moment I envisioned our future, you round with my child and then handing them over to those people, I knew I could never be what they wanted me to be.
I knew that all I ever want to be is the man who protects you, body, mind and soul.
And nothing in my fucking life had ever been more clear.
Losing them means nothing to me… losing you would shatter me. ”
I look up at him, my heart filling with all the words I want to say, the words that I don’t even have to describe the feelings this man invokes in me. So instead, I step on my tip toes and plant a kiss on his cheek, earning a small smirk.
He meets my gaze, steady as ever.
“You just declared war,” I say.
“Now that is something I am prepared for.”