39. Ophelia
OPHELIA
I spend the next week feeling like a pampered princess.
The men dote on me, bringing me all my favorite foods and drinks, giving me foot massages, and playing with my hair.
There’s nothing sexual in it—something I’m a little disappointed about—but I don’t push it.
We watch hour after hour of movies, all snuggled up together on the couch, and they teach me about all the classic flicks I’ve missed over the years.
My favorite is one called Armageddon , and they hand me tissues as a sob my eyes out over the ending.
I feel strong enough to attend the occasional class, though one of the Preachers either sits in the class with me or stands in the corridor outside, ready to leap to my rescue if I need them.
It’s clear word is getting around that they’ve somehow claimed me as their own.
Camile has messaged me, asking if I’m okay, since she can’t catch me on my own long enough to ask in person.
I do my best to explain to her that whatever problems I have aren’t caused by the Preachers, but by something, or someone, else entirely.
I understand her concern, though. The Preachers are hugely overprotective of me.
If someone even glances wrongly in my direction, they act like the person just pulled a knife on me.
For the most part, people leave me alone, which is fine by me.
The other students know to give the Preachers a wide berth, and it would seem I’m now considered to be one of them.
I don’t mind being thought of that way. I’m finally a part of something I want to be. Yes, the Preachers are a little freaky, but then so I am.
The one fly in my soothing ointment is the presence of the Prophet in my mind.
It’s not quite as powerful as it was that morning when I looked at myself in the mirror, but it’s still there.
It’s part of the reason I don’t initiate anything sexually with any of the guys.
I can’t bear to touch them in that way with the Prophet whispering in my ear.
It makes me feel like I’m being watched, as though he can see out of my eyes and knows exactly what I’m up to.
I also haven’t pushed Roman to know his plans for helping me.
I have some idea that it’s going to be a repeat of what happened the other night, only this time he’ll stay and be involved, too.
I’m nervous with anticipation—not only for the part that involves having sex with Roman—but because I’m terrified their plans won’t work for me this time either.
There’s a hidden side of me that wants them, too, and I think they want me in the same way, but we all know it’s wrong, so maybe this is an elaborate game for us to make it okay to ourselves.
There’s a tiny part of me that’s able to smile above the fear.
Maybe that’s the idea, and they’ll just keep creating more and more elaborate orgies until the Prophet has no choice but to vanish into the ether.
It could work, too. Perhaps there’s a level of sin I will reach that’s so damn high, I’ll either burst into flames or finally be free.
Between the foot massages and movie marathons, I can tell something is building.
I sometimes catch both Cain and Malachi widening their eyes at Roman, silently asking him something.
I’m sure that something is about me. A part of me wants to question it, but the other part knows they’ll talk to me about it when they’re ready.
It’s lunchtime on Saturday when that time comes.
We’ve all just eaten pizza—the guys moaning about my choice of olives and anchovies as toppings—and now we’re playing cards. The atmosphere is easygoing and relaxed, so I’m thrown when Roman makes an announcement.
“I think it should be tonight.”
I put down a card. “Think what should be tonight?” But I already know by the instant change in atmosphere as Cain and Malachi both sit up straight.
“Our second try.”
My stomach flips and my heart races. “Really?”
He nods solemnly. “Yes, really. It’s time.”
I throw down my remaining cards, leap from my seat, and hurl myself into his lap. His eyes widen in surprise, and I plant a kiss on his mouth.
“Thank you, Roman.”
“You haven’t heard what the plan is yet,” he says, trying to keep his serious expression, but a smile of pleasure tugs at the corners of his mouth.
“I’ll do anything.”
I mean it, too. I will literally do anything they tell me, both because I need that voice gone and also because I need…
them. Roman, too, this time. The idea has been driving me slowly crazy, and I’m always wet and aching.
I think if they hadn’t acted soon, I’d have ended up dying of sexual frustration.
He nods and untangles himself from me. “Then pay attention to what I’m about to say.”
By the time he’s finished, my pulse is racing and my panties are wet yet again. They want to perform a similar ritual to last time, but this time, instead of fucking me in the circle, they want to chase me through the woods.
In masks.
At night.
And, when they catch me, they’re all going to take me, in one way or another.
“There are a couple of things you need to know,” Roman continues.
Breathless, I nod.
“I’ll definitely fuck you this time.”
“Okay,” I squeak, already picturing Roman between my thighs.
“The reason for that is you’ll be my first time.”
I blink, unsure if I’ve heard him correctly. “What?”
“You were a virgin the last time we tried,” he says, “but this time I’ll be the virgin.”
Is he serious? Roman is a virgin?
I glance in the direction of the other two. Neither of them is laughing.
“I-I don’t know what to say,” I blurt eventually.
“You don’t need to say anything,” he replies.
I can’t believe I’m going to be taking Roman’s virginity. The idea is mind-blowing. Even though they’re going to be chasing me through the woods, that I’m going to be his first feels like it gives me back some of my power.
I remember something. “You said there were two things?”
“Yes. The second thing is that you need a safe word.”
“A safe word?” I don’t even know what that means.
“When we’re chasing you, you need to believe it’s real. You need to believe we are going to catch you and fuck you, whether you want us to or not. Even if you cry for us to stop, or tell us no, we’ll keep going. If you’re being made to do it, you’re not sinning, right?”
I swallow hard at that. He’s correct, I suppose, but I’d just been thinking about taking back some of my power, and now it’s like Roman is snatching it back again.
“Oh,” I whisper.
“But that’s what the safe word is for. If you want us to stop—really stop—at any moment, you just need to say the word.” He smiles softly at me. “You hold the ultimate power, do you see? We want to replace him in your mind.”
“And your soul,” Cain adds, making me shiver.
Understanding dawns. “I see. What’s the word?”
“What do you want it to be?” Malachi throws in. “It needs to be something completely unconnected to anything you might do or say normally. It needs to stand out and also be something you won’t forget”
I nibble at the inside of my lips and cast my gaze around the room, trying to think of something. My focus lands on the empty pizza box.
“Anchovies,” I announce. “My safe word is anchovies.”
“Good,” Roman praises. He looks around at the others. “You two got that?”
Cain and Malachi both nod.
Cain stares at me, his expression serious. “Are you sure you want to do this, Angel? One hundred percent sure?”
“Yes. And if I change my mind, I have the safe word, right?”
My answer seems to please them all, and in turn, that pleases me, too. I want to make these men happy. “What time do we start?”
“Three a.m.,” says Roman.
“Like last time.” I draw in a shaky breath.
I don’t have much experience sexually, and I’m pretty sure most people won’t get to experience the erotic fear of being chased through the woods. I’m reminded of my dreams and wonder if perhaps they were premonitions rather than dreams.
Whatever they were, they’re about to come true.