21. Gideon
Chapter 21
Gideon
T he initiation ritual was something I’d been dreading since I found out about it. The only consolation as I prepared myself to head into the woods was that I was sure whatever Fletcher had to go through was worse. Between the Thorns and the Roses, one society was known for being ruthless and it wasn’t mine.
“A quick fuck to take the edge off?” Luca asked from behind me with a tight laugh.
I shook my head. “Today is definitely not the day,” I told him.
“Tonight is,” he reminded me.
He was wrong, but he didn’t know it. To his understanding, we’d perform the first part of the ritual, then I’d pick an initiate to fuck, to trade. It was a childish power move, undoubtedly put into place generations ago by a weak man who had no choice but to coerce people into bed with him.
I would not.
There was a third option of the ritual Luca didn’t know about, and I couldn’t tell him.
It would be a test of the loyalty he had toward me…toward the Roses, and I intended to selfishly hold him to it so I wouldn’t have to bed another man and to minimize the impact of my father’s reach.
It was also a favor, but only I was supposed to know that.
“Are you ready?” I asked him, ignoring his assumption about how our nights would end.
He gestured weakly, lifting his left hand to pass me the soft, black cloth bag. I took it from him without another word, sliding it over his head and loosely knotting the strings at the base of his throat. Luca sucked in a breath, the fabric pulling against his mouth as he tried to get air.
“Small breaths,” I reminded him.
He nodded, and I attached a thick leather collar around his neck.
Everything about this ritual was meant to injure and demean. From the veiled eyes to the collar and leash, Luca was to be reminded at all stages of the night that as my second, he was nothing without my guidance. He was on display as much as I was, a reminder to the rest of the initiates and members that they were only meant to do what they were told, go where they were taken.
Twisting the well-oiled leather leash around my hand, I gave a sharp tug against Luca’s throat and pulled him out of the house. He only stumbled a handful of times before finding his footing, following after me as proud as a sightless man could. I led him through the dark and into the tree line, just off the property as to not run afoul of any campus safety rules.
As if they’d hold us to anything anyway.
In a large clearing, a bonfire crackled, flames shooting toward the sky. The other members of the Roses gathered around, speaking together in hushed tones. When Luca and I arrived, everyone immediately went silent, falling to their knees and bowing their heads. The power was heady, and I understood why so many men before me had fallen victim to chasing it. My father being no exception to the rule. Blind loyalty could be addicting, but I didn’t want the loyalty of all these men. I wanted the one thing I wasn’t allowed to have.
Even still.
Even now.
“I stand before you tonight to make you five promises,” I said, loud enough for my voice to carry to the far edges of the clearing. I didn’t speak often, and it was the first time many of the men around heard my voice. “I give you my discretion and my confidence. My loyalty and my union.”
I bit the inside of my cheek, an unwanted memory from another life flashing against the backs of my eyelids like a firework.
Sub rosa.
“I honor the traditions of those that came before us by taking the mark of my forefathers on your behalf.”
Beside me, Luca shifted.
“Head toward the fire,” I demanded.
He hesitated for less than a second, stepping toward the flames before us. Luca took small but measured steps, awaiting my next instruction. He was dangerously close to the edge of the bonfire when I called out to him next.
“Stop.”
He was quicker to obey that command. The fire sparked madly as it licked into the sky, and I imagined if not for the hood, his eyelashes might have found themselves singed on the tips.
“Two steps forward, Luca.”
Again, small steps toward the inferno.
“One more.”
He was close enough to do what I needed him to do, but this was meant to be a display of power.
“More, Luca,” I said, voice booming across the field.
He rolled his neck and squared his shoulders, taking a step so big that his boots knocked into the logs built as a perimeter around the base of the fire.
“Stop there,” I told him. “Two steps to the left and you’ll find it.”
He followed instruction well, reaching down and finding the heavy leather glove in the dirt.
“Put it on. Take up the brand.”
If he had any nerves, his steadiness didn’t betray him. Blindly, Luca slipped the glove onto his right hand, then he felt around for the long iron poker, tip burning neon orange in the fire.
“Did you count your steps?” I asked.
Another lesson.
While men acted without thinking, that didn’t mean they were mindless.
“Yes,” he called out to me.
“Then return.”
Luca took two steps back to the right and turned his back to the flames. I took a step back, as I was meant to, on account of the length of the poker. Luca, again with his small steps, like if he walked slow enough we could delay the inevitable. It was some comfort that he hated this part as much as I was about to, but it was a small price to pay for the promise of peace in the future. When he’d closed half the space, I made quick work of undoing the buttons on my shirt and letting it fall open.
“Raise it,” I said.
Luca nearly startled, my voice closer maybe than he’d expected. He lifted the brand, the iron burning orange and red, the shape of a five-petaled rose easy enough for me to make out. Bracing his free hand around his gloved wrist, Luca continued to close the space toward me until he was near enough for me to smell the burning metal.
“This is my oath,” I whispered, as Luca took the final step into me, searing the brand of The Crimson Rose directly over my heart.