Chapter 52
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
EVERLY
H er words don’t process right away. I simply stare as she turns and melts into the darkness outside the reach of the spotlight. It’s not until the door closes behind the nurse that her directions sink in.
“Right, left, right, statue, hatch,” I whisper to myself, hoping to be able to retain it. “Right, left, right, statue, hatch.”
Why would the woman give me this information? What use is it to me now that I’m chained to the floor? Is there something I’m missing?
I don’t have time to dwell on these questions as the door opens again.
I turn to face whoever’s entering and immediately can tell it’s not another nurse.
Every hair on the back of my neck rises.
The dark and eerie space feels like the least of my concerns as my eyes lock onto the silhouettes of four individuals as they enter the room.
Their footsteps are heavy as they move almost in unison toward me.
There’s one person out of step—theirs more hurried and unmeasured than the others.
He approaches first, stepping into the light while the others circle it, making sure to remain unseen.
My stomach riots at the sight of Arthur Futtersome.
His ruddy face is sweat coated. Strands of hair are plastered to his forehead and get stuck between the creases there as he scowls at me. When Arthur stops in front of me, I have to tilt my head up to stare into his furious face.
“You fucking bitch,” he growls.
I can see the strike coming even before he lifts his hand. My father would get the same look in his eyes—the one that promises violence. My heart skips a beat and I tense as the back of his hand goes flying through the air.
“Don’t touch her,” a voice warns. “She’s not yours just yet, Arthur.”
Arthur grimaces, his hand dropping to his side. He looks over his shoulder and snaps, “She’s about to be. So let’s hurry this ceremony up. I have a plane to catch.”
Ceremony? My stomach drops as realization dawns on me.
“I’m not marrying you,” I snap, my voice wavering as fear threatens to wipe away my attempt at bravado.
“You really aren’t in a position to object,” Arthur sneers. “You’re lucky it’s still happening at all.”
My incredulous laugh is short-lived. “ Lucky ? That’s not what I would use to describe myself right now.”
“You’re lucky because the White Stag has been generous enough to grant you life when I demanded I become a widower once our union was announced.
” He actually spits on my bloody feet. “Your death would make my life so much easier. Do you know the nightmare of a scandal you created by leaving me at the altar? Do you ?!”
“If we allowed her to die, then you wouldn’t be able to procreate with a direct heir of the White Stag, which was part of our deal in the first place,” a voice from the dark replies coldly.
Arthur’s mouth pinches together with displeasure but he nods. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”
As one, the other three men step into the beam of light. I flinch as light glints off the two masks that appear first. Masks shaped like stag skulls, antlers and all, painted in gold.
The mask wearers are dressed in black cloaks with hoods raised. Their hands are covered in leather gloves, and shiny black leather shoes encase their feet. There’s nothing to distinguish them from one another.
The man in the middle, however, isn’t wearing a mask.
From his suit to the shirt and tie beneath it, everything is a crisp black color.
He’s a dark-skinned man in his early fifties who clearly takes good care of himself judging by his build and smooth skin.
His eyes land on my face before skimming down the length of me.
When they return to meet mine, they go slightly out of focus.
“My son was right, The Universe picked you as Its vessel,” he murmurs after a moment, his eyes blinking back into focus. “How unusual. I think you might be the first person outside my bloodline to be blessed in such a manner.”
“You know about… Oh!” I gasp. “You’re Braum’s father!”
I guess I can see the resemblance.
“He’s here somewhere, do you know that? These guys have him! I was with Braum not that long ago,” I tell him, stepping as close to Braum’s dad as the chains will allow. Anxiously I ask, “Do you know where he is? Is he alive? Is he okay?”
Rather than reply, Braum’s father reaches into the interior pocket of his jacket and pulls out a small book. He glances left then right before asking, “If neither of you object, we can get started.”
The fingers on my good hand curl into an anxious fist as I look between all four men.
“Hold on, Jeremiah, let me get a closer look,” a deep voice says. It comes from the masked individual to his right.
The cloaked man walks toward me slowly, his head tilting left then right.
When he stops before me, he reaches up with a gloved hand and grabs my chin in a painful grasp.
I try to pull away but he only holds me tighter.
With a thoughtful hum, the man jerks my head side to side before releasing me abruptly.
“You know, you’re much prettier than your mother. If you weren’t my daughter…” The rest of his lude suggestion goes unsaid but the implication is there.
It makes my stomach revolt and skin crawl.
I’m not sure if disgust outweighs my surprise, however, as I realize who this man is to me.
Mother had an affair, but I never learned who she’d had it with.
Did it ever occur to Father that the man Mother fucked was one of the leaders of the organization he dedicated his life to?
Probably not, or he might’ve treated me better.
“Just like how your siblings are prettier than their mothers,” my biological father continues. “If that’s not proof my genes are superior, I don’t know what is.”
The other masked man chuckles, his shoulders shaking as he does. “I’ll admit you do make handsome offspring.”
My biological father looks at Arthur. “Your offspring will be just as magnificent.”
Again, the implication doesn’t go amiss.
“Eww.” I can’t stop the word from slipping past my lips. Instantly, I regret it as all heads turn toward me.
“Don’t worry, Everly,” the masked man standing in front of me says. “You won’t mind after your procedure.”
“A procedure—” the other masked man drawls. “—our finest doctors are waiting to complete. They have other places to be, so if we can hurry this up, it would be appreciated by all. Everly has made us wait for this union long enough.”
Jeremiah Milligan opens the small, nondescript book in his hand and flips through the pages. When he finds the page he’s looking for, he looks up at me then at Arthur.
“Join hands,” he orders.
Arthur reaches for my hand with a sigh, but I jerk it back before scurrying as far away from him as the chains will allow.
Fear and fierce determination force my spine to straighten. Looking at Braum’s father, I hiss, “I’m not marrying him!”
Confrontation isn’t my forte. I’m not used to doing this. It doesn’t help that I'm facing off with four men in a thin hospital gown, shivering from the cold shower.
But I didn’t get this far in life to give up now. If there’s anything worth fighting for, it’s Maverick. It’s Rowan. It’s Braum. It’s for a future with all three of them in it. There’s nothing more motivating than the thought of the four of us together, far away from this hellscape.
“James displeased the White Stag one too many times,” Jeremiah says slowly. He pins me with a dark glare. “And you know what his fate was? His head is currently being boxed and sent to your mother, who will take over for him in his absence.”
While his fate was gruesome, there’s a sense of relief that comes and goes, too fragile to linger in such a fraught moment. My asshole Father is gone. I wish I could take a second and bask in that news. But with relief’s departure comes a sense of foreboding.
When I don’t react to the news, Jeremiah continues with narrowed eyes. “The White Stag may have chosen life for you, but I can assure you it’s not one you’ll be very active in. Your lobotomy will make you compliant enough to house a child in your womb. Continue to be insolent and?—”
My scream, a mixture of rage and horror, echoes all around us. I charge at him, startling Braum’s father. He steps out of the way just before my shoulder collides with his chest.
“Fuck you!” I scream. “I’m not marrying anyone! I won’t, I won’t, I won’t !”
I flash my gnashing teeth at him and at the two masked men who watch on wordlessly. The next scream I let out is one of defiance. It’s a sound I’ve never made before but as it expels past my lips, I bask in it. This isn’t going to happen, not if I can help it.
“She’s mad!” Arthur cries out, stepping back from me, his face twisting with disgust. “She’s spent too much time here!”
The second masked man, who’s only spoken once since his arrival, steps forward. As he does, he pulls something long and hard from within his cloak.
“Child, if you do not take Arthur’s hand, I will give you cause to scream,” he promises, his voice calm.
The masked man lifts what looks like an overly long magic wand only for me to see two prongs on the opposite end.
Electricity suddenly arches between them, the sound loud in the quiet room.
He’s just threatened me with a cattle prod.
I don’t feel fear. Instead, amusement bubbles up and I laugh. The sound is louder than the buzz of electricity, drowning it out as I throw my head back. He thinks he can get me to do something by zapping me?
Maverick, Braum, and Rowan sent far more electricity through me than that little stick could hold. I wouldn’t bend to their threat, and I won’t be bending to this one.
“Go ahead, shock me,” I tell him as he steps closer and lifts the prod. My grin feels feral as my heart races, adrenaline pumping through me hard and fast. “I’d rather lose my voice screaming than ever give you what you want.”
“So be it,” the masked man says.
With that, he lunges forward and shoves the prongs into my chest.