Chapter 22 Sacred Vows
Sacred Vows
One month after Jordan’s arrest, they finally got the news Marigold risked her life for. Hunter, Stone, and Ash waited for her in the library, after texting that the lawyer had called.
She found them sitting before the gaping fireplace in a circle of leather chairs, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken possibilities that hung like incense in a cathedral when lifetimes of worry were laid to rest. Outside, snow had begun to fall.
Fat, lazy flakes transformed the world beyond the windows into a crystalline wonderland and reality softened at the edges.
But inside, the air pulsed with tension.
“What is it? Is Katya okay?”
“She’s perfectly safe,” Stone assured. “As a matter of fact, she just posted pictured from Sardinia.” He flashed his phone screen where Katya posed in a white string bikini against the Mediterranean backdrop.
Hunter growled. “They don’t have dresses in Italy?”
Ash chuckled. “She looks good. Happy.”
Cole must be loving his time off if that was the dress code, Marigold thought.
Katya’s had escaped the winter to visit friends in The States then decided to extend her trip with a vacation off the coast of Italy.
It was the first time she’d left since the assault, not counting her time at the clinic, and her brothers were glad to see her back to her former, cheerful self again.
“You said you heard from the lawyer?” More than anything, Marigold feared Jordan would get off on the charges and be set free. She wasn’t worried about him coming after her again. She had her three bears to protect her. But she feared what that might do to Katya’s piece of mind.
“Sit.” Stone ordered, then tacked on a kinder, “Please.”
She dropped into an empty leather chair. “I see your manners are improving as fast as my Russian.”
“Sorry.” He apologized. “That was rude.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re forgiven.”
“I better fucking be.”
She stuck out her tongue, and Stone arched a brow as if accepting her challenge.
“Jordan’s lawyer called this morning,” Ash said, breaking the tension.
“I’ll deal with your attitude later,” Stone promised.
“As I was saying,” Ash’s voice carried the satisfaction of a man who’d waited patiently for justice. “Formal charges have been filed. Between Katya’s testimony and yours, the prosecutors are confident of a conviction.”
The fire crackled in the enormous hearth, casting dancing shadows across faces that had become as familiar to her as her own reflection. They dominated the vaulting space with the casual authority of men who’d never doubted their right to command.
“How long?” Marigold asked, frustrated with the drawn-out sentencing process when Jordan had already pleaded guilty to several charges, but the attorney representing Katya said the case against him was still developing.
“Ten to fifteen years, if he’s extraordinarily lucky,” Hunter’s voice rumbled with deep satisfaction. “More likely twenty to life. Other women have come forward.”
Relief flooded through her like warm honey, but it carried complications in its wake. “When’s the trial?”
“They haven’t set the date.”
“Yet,” Stone said, easing her tension. “But we should have an answer by the end of the day.”
“There’s something we need to discuss,” Ash said gently. “It’s about your family.”
“You’re my family.”
Hunter took her hand. “Yes. But this is about your father,” he said, keeping his tone especially delicate.
Her pulse quickened like a hummingbird’s wings. “Is he sick?” She could tell by their expressions it was something else, so she braced for the worst. “Just tell me. I can take it.”
“He’s officially disowned you,” Hunter said with blunt honesty that could have shattered glass. “He released a statement yesterday calling you mentally unstable and severing all ties. You’re persona non grata in their world now.”
“Oh,” she stared down at her lap, supposing part of her had expected something like this happening. “I guess that’s better than health problems.”
“Fuck his health,” Stone said sharply. “Don’t waste your empathy on that piece of shit.”
The words should have devastated her, should have left her feeling hollow and abandoned, like an empty church on Monday morning. Instead, they felt like the final chains falling away from her ankles, the last prison door swinging open to reveal endless sky.
“Are you all right, Lisichka?”
“I’m fine,” she said with surprising conviction. “I never wanted their world anyway. I belong here. With you.” She scanned all three ruggedly beautiful faces.
“We agree, but now that you’ve had time to settle in, we need to align the past with the future,” Stone said carefully, his voice carrying undertones that made her skin tingle with anticipation.
“Our life here isn’t conventional. Our relationship isn’t something most people would understand or accept. ”
“I’m not most people.”
“No,” Hunter agreed with a predatory smile that could have melted arctic ice. “You’re not. But you need to understand what we’re asking. What it would mean to be ours—completely, irrevocably, eternally—”
“Publicly,” Ash finished.
Marigold laughed nervously. “Are you planning on leaking the surveillance footage?”
“No, but keeping you safe, keeping the lodge staffed and fully functional, requires a great deal of money.”
She sat back, confused, her humor fading. “But I have nothing.”
“We aren’t asking you for money, printsessa.”
She frowned. “Then what are you asking?”
“It’s time to re-open our doors,” Hunter explained. “We haven’t hosted a party since you arrived, and now that things are settling with your family, we figured it was time.”
“You want to have a party?”
“Not just any party. The kind of gatherings that people pay millions to attend.”
Her eyes widened.
“That’s what we do,” Ash explained. “It’s why we have so many rooms.”
“And so many toys.” Stone’s smile was pure mischief.
Hunter shifted closer, his eyes intense. “Do you remember what it means to belong to all of us?”
“It means trust,” she said as if reciting sacred vows.
“Absolute trust,” Stone agreed. “Trust enough to let us make decisions for you, to guide you, to push your boundaries in ways that might terrify you even as they set you free.”
“It means surrender,” Ash finished, his voice carrying the weight of mountains. “Real surrender. Not just in bed, but in life. Letting us take care of you, protect you, and provide for you.”
She understood that they were trying to do what was right, what they knew, but they would only do so with her consent. “Will I be invited to the party?”
Stone laughed and Hunter shot him a silencing glare. “Some, but not all.”
She frowned. “Why not all?”
“They can be dangerous.”
“For you?”
“No, not for us. But you know what happened to Katya.”
“You said that would never happen again.”
“It won’t.” Stone’s tone had shifted from playful to serious. “You’re safe here. We have Cole and the guards watching the cameras twenty-four-seven.”
She flushed, not liking the idea of anyone watching the things they’d done, especially Cole. “Then why can’t I come to the party?”
“There are some you can attend, but there will be rules.”
“Strict rules,” Hunter emphasized. “None of these escaping games you like to play.”
“Look, I can’t help it if your lead security guy was outmaneuvered by little old me.”
“This is serious, Marigold.”
She dropped the sass, fully trusting Ash and the others to put her safety above all else. “Sorry.”
“Some parties are controlled. Those, you can attend—”
“As long as you follow the rules.”
“Which are?”
“You are always with one of us, and never go off on your own.”
“No one, besides us, touches you.”
“And if anyone even looks at you wrong, you tell us immediately.”
“Okay.” She nodded her agreement. “Does that mean I can go to the party?”
“Yes, as long as you’re fine with being fucked in front of the guests.”
Her eyes went wide again. “Um…”
“Take time to think it over.”
“Will other women be there?”
“Yes.”
“Naked?”
“Yes.”
She scoffed. “Then I’ll be there. And I’ll have some rules of my own.”
Hunter smirked, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest. “Those women do not interest us, Lisichka.”
Ash took her hand. “You’re everything we need.”
“In the spring though, you’re going to have to sit some festivities out.”
“What’s in the spring?”
“We host the annual Feast of the Fallen.”
She sat back. “What’s that?”
“It’s organized by Jack Thorne, and it’s not anything you need to attend.”
“But what is it?”
The men exchanged glances. “It’s an exclusive party with a strict guest list. You’re not on it.”
She scowled at Stone and turned her gaze to Ash. “What aren’t they telling me?”
He sighed. “Wealthy men, from all over the world, pay two million dollars to attend. The first million goes toward the house. The second million goes toward one of the hunted.”
She tipped her head, certain she had misheard him. “I’m sorry, the hunted? What, exactly, are they hunting?”
“Women,” Hunter explained. “Guests.”
“Volunteers.”
“You’re saying these women want to be hunted?”
“Yes. There’s actually an extensive waiting list to get invited to the Feast.”
“Are they shot?”
The men all laughed. “Hell no,” Stone said. “No one is hurt beyond a scraped knee.”
“Or a chafed wrist.”
“Or a sore ass.”
She held up a hand. “I get the picture. So, these men pay a million dollars to use the property, and they hunt the women like they’re some sort of Hunger Games tribute?”
“Pretty much.”
“What do they do when they catch them?”
“Whatever the hell they want. Everyone on the guest list is fully aware of the possible outcomes and no one attends without full comprehension of the rules and total consent.”
Her breath caught as she imagined what some men might do to a woman with limitless consent.
“They have twenty-four hours, and the women are paid whether they get caught or not. The entire Feast is surveyed closely. No one is hurt. We take all necessary precautions.”
“I think I’m okay with sitting that one out.”