Chapter 3
Ethan Howell read the article, his fury simmering with the barely controlled rage. She was married! Tara Treon, the little bitch who had escaped his grasp, was married. And not just to anyone. She married some ruler! Some bastard who didn’t have any right to the defiant, little bitch!
Then another thought occurred to him; if Tara was married, where the hell was Elijah?
Perhaps the pathetic idiot knew better than to return home. Ethan had warned the man not to come back without his wife, Tara. Ethan had married Elijah and Tara thirteen years ago. Hell, Ethan would have taken Tara to be his own wife, but he’d wanted the older girl. He’d wanted Kaia ever since he’d first seen those flashing green eyes and pretty cheeks that had reddened with anger when the girl had been only ten years old.
Kaia. Just her name conjured up images of her rebellious spirit. A spirit he desperately wanted to dominate. With delicious force! Oh, he’d been so eager to initiate the girl into her wifely duties as well. And he would have relished tamping down on her rebellion.
He would have succeeded, too! Unfortunately, Kaia had escaped before she’d been formally betrothed. How the little hellion had survived for so long, Ethan had never figured out. He’d long suspected Tara of sneaking food and blankets to Kaia during some of her more tame punishments during the early years, but the younger sister had never admitted to anything.
Eh, it probably hadn’t been Tara. She’d always been a scared little twit. That had been true until the day he’d ordered her to marry Elijah. Then the little bitch had shown a bit of spirit. Hell, as soon as he’d seen that, Ethan had considered stopping the engagement and keeping Tara for himself. But he’d always known that Kaia would never be too far from her little sister, and he’d been right. Ethan had spotted Kaia several times, but the stubborn, rebellious nymph had escaped him time and time again.
Ethan moved to the cellar door and pulled it open. Going down the dimly lit wooden stairs, he came to the wall and pressed on the corner. With a snick, the hidden lock released and Ethan went through that door and closed it behind him.
A few more steps and he was in his private space. Breathing in, Ethan sensed the fear as well as the sweat and…other scents that never failed to turn him on. He turned, examining the various options. But in the end, he selected his favorite and reached for the item on the iron hook with the lethal tip Carefully, with a great deal of relish, Ethan reached up and took the bullwhip down from the hook, running his hands over the smooth leather. He’d made this whip especially for Kaia.
It had never been used. A virgin whip for a delightful virgin.
Yes, Kaia had better still be a virgin. He would punish her even harder if she’d dared to give herself to any other man.
Ethan, however, hadn’t waited for Kaia to come back to him. No, as leader of this community and the spiritual guide for their entire congregation, it was Ethan’s duty to ensure that he was calm and rational. Men needed to relieve themselves of their sexual frustrations in order to maintain that calm demeanor. So, he’d gone into the city and availed himself of the services of females that didn’t deserve his respect. He’d tried to bring each of those naughty women into the private domain. Some had resisted and he’d ensured that they understood that resistance wasn’t the answer. Others had come more willingly.
Those women weren’t wives. Not in his world. Only untouched women were allowed to become wives to the hearty men of Ethan’s community members.
No, the women who had serviced him over the years worked the fields, washed clothes and homes or did other chores that assisted the community members. However, those former prostitutes and loose women could never be worthy of the title of wife. But after he took them into this life, they sinned no more.
At least, they no longer sinned sexually. Of course they still sinned. No one was truly free of sin. But Ethan was more than willing to cleanse each sinner for their sins through blood and sacrifice.
A knock on the door distracted him and Ethan turned towards the door. Quickly, Ethan put the whip back on the hook and headed back up the stairs to the main floor of his humble abode. Glancing around, he took a moment to ensure that nothing was out of place. Only then did he move towards the back door to his home.
There was no glass in the doors to his home. He demanded that all other members have doors with glass windows, explaining that god needed to see into their homes and their souls.
The windows also allowed Ethan to ensure that every member of his congregation was holy and obeying the laws of the community.
Walking to the kitchen door, he opened it and looked out at the group of men waiting on his back porch. For a moment, Ethan couldn’t remember why these men were standing outside of his home. Then he realized what time it was and huffed up, smiling and gesturing his arms wide in an invitation to enter.
“Time to read from the bible!” Ethan exclaimed, pushing thoughts of punishing a green eyed temptress out of his mind. He’d consider his options later, once he’d finished the men’s bible study lessons for the evening.
Two of the women followed behind the men, their heads appropriately bowed as they carried pitchers of lemonade and platters of cookies. The cookies looked delicious! He wondered if he would allow the womenfolk something sweet this week. Had they been appropriately obedient and worthy?
Another idea to contemplate later.
“Gentlemen,” he started off, taking the wing back chair in front of the two rows of straight-back wood chairs, the only furniture he allowed in his family room. He knew that the wingback chair appeared throne-like to anyone who came into his house. And the line of wooden chairs showed each member of the church that he was more pious than they were since even his family room was church-like.
Silently, the men sat down in their assigned seats, the higher ranking church members and elders closest to Ethan’s chair, the lesser members, the ones that were still striving to achieve his notice, took the chairs further away. The womenfolk carefully set the lemonade and the cookie platters on the kitchen table, then disappeared out of the house. They would sit on the back porch, praying, waiting for their menfolk to be finished so that they could retrieve the pitcher and platters.
“Gentlemen, I have seen a sign,” Ethan began. His words caused every man to sit up a bit straighter, eager to hear the latest news.