Thirty-Four
Eve
The fluffy pink robe is soft against my skin as I wait. I’m sitting in the small prep room to the side of the stage in the Compound’s auditorium. It looks every bit like a theater dressing room, complete with light-up mirrors and a cupboard filled with costumes from past productions.
“We did Chicago last year,” Portia prattles on into the ominous silence, absently looking through the costumes, straightening them, and picking up any that have dropped off their hangers. “It wasn’t bad, except Chantelle made a terrible Roxie. Next year, she’s getting a silent part, and that’s that. I don’t care who she complains to.”
The sound of her voice is oddly comforting. Ellie, the other Ward being initiated, already left, and I would have hated to be in here alone. I feel like a virgin sacrifice about to be thrown to a dragon.
Except I can’t claim that title anymore. And there isn’t one single part of me that misses it.
“Does it usually take this long?” I’ve been checking the clock roughly every nanosecond since Ellie left. It’s been well over an hour. The thought of being naked in public for that long makes my skin crawl.
“Not usually, no.” She abandons the costume cupboard and comes to sit beside me. While Gabriel was in the hospital, she came to see me every day. She insisted I speak to the Compound’s resident counselor—another Ward—and took me to lunch three times, despite my protestations that I was okay.
It’s an odd mix of kind and suffocating, but I’m choosing to see the good in her, at least for now. She and the other Wards are going to become my social circle. I need to let them in.
“So what’s the hold up?”
“It’s the tattoo. She and her Patron are both obsessed with snakes.” She shudders delicately. “Both biologists. They’re a good match. They spent months planning the tattoo. It’s some sort of python, twining up her arm. It’s going to be completed over several sessions, but they wanted to get the head in place today.”
“Oh.”
“I told Kendrick he should let you go first to save you the anxious wait, but I think he wants to make a big fuss of Gabriel. You understand.”
I’m starting to. My lunches with Portia have been a gold mine for gossip. Kendrick has faced a lot of criticism over his handling of security. Some factions are even calling for his resignation. Almost losing a Brother, especially one on the brink of a world-changing discovery, hasn’t sat well with a lot of them.
But that, and anything other than the looming ordeal in front of me, isn’t my concern right now.
The door clicks open, and I almost choke on a breath as another woman—Amanda, I think—pokes her head in. She gives me a warm smile. “It’s time. You ready? ”
No. Definitely not. I haven’t eaten all day, too scared I’d bring it back up, and I’m grateful for my decision as I stammer out, “I suppose.”
Amanda and Portia share an amused glance, and Amanda speaks to me in a low voice. “Don’t panic. Just keep your eyes on your Gabriel. This is between you and him—it’s all that matters.”
Oh, how I wish that were true. We’ve run through the wording enough times that it no longer feels awkward to me, but that’s when we’re in private. In front of hundreds of people, though? The urge to bolt is so strong I can’t help glancing at the exit door.
Portia notices, and worry twists her face before she masks it with a brisk, “Time to go.”
It’s the look I’ve seen plenty of times when anyone brings up the ceremony. It makes my skin itch, like there’s a sniper with a gun pointed at my head. Something ominous that even Gabriel hasn’t told me .
Once I get through this, I’ll ask him.
I take a deep breath and get to my feet. Portia and Amanda flank me like bodyguards as I take step after slow step to the door. I can do this. I can.
When we reach the open door, I freeze. The auditorium is similar to my college lecture theaters but with a wider stage. Seats range up in a semicircle in tiers, and so many are filled with people. I flinch back from the opening and stare.
Men and women sit in paired couples. Not in all cases, but in so many I can tell it must be considered the done thing for a serious event like this. Brothers and their Wards, together.
In six months, that will be Gabriel and I. Sitting together, holding hands, watching Jacob and Sebastian initiate their wards. And every single one of these women was once where I am now. They’ve all been through it and seem to have survived unscathed.
It gives me strength. I’m not alone.
Finally, I tear my gaze from the crowd and find the stage. Gabriel sits in an elaborately carved central chair like a king on a throne. A very uncomfortable king. His fingers tap on his knee, and he’s staring right at me through the open door. His stiff posture could be because of his injury, but I think it’s more to do with stress.
I don’t feel the tiniest bit of sympathy. He doesn’t have to be naked.
In fact, he’s dressed up for the event in a sharp gray suit and a beautiful blue shirt that has to be Sebastian’s work. It compliments his dark hair and eyes and his pale skin in a way that makes everything else fade away.
Then he smiles, his eyes light up in the wicked way they do every time he sees me, and he crooks his finger at me in a “come here” gesture. A command I can’t resist.
I lower my arms to my side and let Portia and Amanda slide off the robe.
The cool air hits my skin. The temperature in the auditorium has been set for the comfort of the hundreds of clothed people, not the one poor naked girl. My skin pebbles, and of course, my nipples harden. Gabriel will notice. He always does.
“Off you go. Eyes on him, Eve. Only on him.” Amanda’s words, and the expectant look on Gabriel’s face, propel me out of the door.
It’s easier than I thought it would be, once I’m moving. The crowd murmurs at my appearance, but it’s muted. Polite. This is a solemn occasion, and no one would dare let out a wolf whistle or anything stupid like that. I keep my arms stuck to my sides, fists in tight balls .
Gabriel’s smile fades into something else entirely as I approach him. His eyes are black pools, reflecting glints of the stage lights, and the way he studies me is so intense it almost feels like he can see through my skin, right to my bones.
Eyes on him.
It takes forever, a long walk across a great, gaping chasm, but I finally reach him. I stand in front of him and keep my eyes locked tight to his as I sink to my knees just as we practiced.
Even in private, kneeling for Gabriel always makes my face heat. It’s such a blatant admission of his power over me and my acceptance of it. It feels wrong in my head, even as my heart and body tell me it feels right. Here, on the stage, that feeling is magnified a million times over. I’m like a concubine to a Roman emperor. A captive slave with her master.
It’s wrong. But as I look up at Gabriel, it doesn’t feel wrong. The relief and pride on his face as he leans down toward me and whispers “You made it” warm me even with the chilly air.
He doesn’t touch me—he’s not allowed to while the ceremony is happening—but he wants to. His fingers stretch toward me as if he can hardly bear keeping them away. I want to feel the reassuring strength of his touch, too. I want to rest my head on his knees and let him stroke my hair.
Soon.
Kendrick steps from the back of the stage, dressed in his usual sensible dark gray suit. I’d half expected elaborate robes, but Gabriel explained the Brotherhood dispensed with that sort of thing years ago. Except for the robe I have to wear, and this archaic ceremony, of course. Funny how it’s always the Wards who seem to be the exception.
“Brothers and Wards, we welcome Gabriel Sanderson and his Ward, Evelyn Walker. This is a sacred tradition, dating back to…”
Kendrick’s voice is a background to the beating of my heart as I stare into Gabriel’s eyes. The speech is smooth and long practiced, pretty words describing capture and enslavement as though it’s something wonderful. A benefit to all.
I don’t believe it. But Gabriel didn’t try to hide his desire under the blanket of respectability. He had to have me, so he took me. Honest, raw, and intoxicating. Whatever the Brotherhood tries to make this tradition into, what Gabriel and I share is something else, a primal desire that started with him but has flowed into me.
Kendrick stops addressing the crowd and approaches. I try not to care that he’s seeing a full-frontal view of me, but my chilly skin warms anyway. He doesn’t even look, though. He keeps his eyes on my face like a perfect gentleman.
“Eve, give thanks to your Patron and swear yourself to him.”
I swallow. This is it. My fingers tremble as I take Gabriel’s hand in mine and bring it to my lips. His fingers are tense as I land a nervous kiss and recite the words we’ve practiced so many times.
“Thank you, Gabriel, for choosing me as your Ward. I am yours, and yours alone, forevermore.”
Stiff, formal words, and I recite them in a rush. Gabriel’s eyes close, and his shoulders relax.
“Gabriel. Make your promise to your Ward.”
Gabriel leans forward, shifting his hand so it grips mine. His voice resonates around the auditorium, rich with emotion. “Eve. I grant you my protection. You are mine, and mine alone, forevermore. I have selected this mark to grace your skin as a symbol of my ownership.”
Ownership. I’m still not used to the word, and I shiver as someone else approaches from the back of the stage, an older man with long hair and multiple tattoos all over his body. Two young men push over a rolling stool and a cart with a tattoo machine.
The man addresses Gabriel in a low voice. “Inner wrist placement, as discussed?”
“Yes, thank you. Give me your hand, Eve.” Gabriel’s voice allows for no argument, and it sends a little shiver through me even here, in front of all these people. Or perhaps because of the crowd. I hold out my right hand, and he takes it firmly in his good hand, holding it out to the tattooist. He traces his finger over the sensitive skin in a way that makes my toes curl. “Right here.”
“No problem. Hold her hand for me please. Make sure she stays still.”
Gabriel’s lips quirk up as he adjusts my wrist into a comfortable position on his thigh. “Oh, she’ll be a good girl for me. Won’t you, Eve?”
Jesus. He has to make me say it. I bite my lip, then force out, “Yes, Gabriel.”
He leans forward and, without a hint of embarrassment, kisses the top of my head.
The next portion of the ceremony passes in a haze of pain. Gabriel’s card tattoo might be small, but his chosen position hurts like hell, and by the end, I’m gripping his free hand with mine, fingers digging in as the buzzing of the gun echoes around the room.
The jack of hearts takes shape before my eyes. He let me choose the card, and it was the only one that fit. His mark of ownership on my skin. I watch it take shape, and my body feels hot and tingly. Strangely good, once I get over the initial shock.
I float in the moment until the tattooist pronounces the design finished, places a bandage on my wrist, and leaves.
Almost done .
Gabriel gives me an encouraging smile, and I realize the tension has left his body. Whatever the mysterious danger of this event was, it seems to have passed. Kendrick steps forward, serious as ever, and his next words are a cold splash of water, washing away the hazy relaxation I’d slipped into.
“As you know, we are facing challenges as an organization. Loyalty and devotion are more vital than ever, and nothing is more sacred than the bond of a Ward to her Patron. Therefore, we have decided to introduce one more final test.”
Gabriel stiffens, and his panicked glance from Kendrick to me and back again shows me this is as much of a shock to him as it is to me. My mind skitters from scenario to scenario. What will it be? I worked so hard to come to terms with what I’ve already had to do. I’m naked in front of hundreds of people. What more can they ask of me?
“Sir, what is this?” Gabriel’s voice is tight, anger held in check with effort. “Eve has behaved perfectly, and with such a short time to prepare.”
“True obedience shouldn’t just come from preparation, though, Gabriel. It should be innate. The new task is this. Ask Eve to prove her loyalty, right here and now. You are her Patron and her master. Command her, a true test. Prove to all your Brothers how devoted she truly is. Fail to truly test her, and I’ll issue an instruction myself.”
The clear threat behind the words raises my hackles, and my jaw tightens as I stare up at Kendrick. As usual, he doesn’t spare a glance for me, all his attention on Gabriel, on the only person he truly sees as human.
How dare he. Standing there like an emperor, or a king, changing the rules of the game. I force my gaze back to Gabriel. Just looking at Kendrick fills me with rage, and that won’t help me get through whatever comes next. A true test. Whatever that means.
Gabriel’s fists clench, and he stares down at me, brows furrowed. He closes his eyes briefly, and when he opens them, there’s a moment of pure pain before he hardens his expression, becoming as stern as he sometimes is in the bedroom. It’s an abrupt shift, the donning of armor, and it fills me with dread for what he’s about to say.
His voice is harsh, the words clipped and commanding. “Eve. Crawl to Kendrick, kiss his feet, and swear your loyalty to the Brotherhood.”
There’s a ringing in my ears, as if giant cymbals only I could hear just clanged right by my head. Even in the chill, sweat breaks out on my skin.
No. No. No.
I can’t.
To crawl in front of all these people is bad enough, but kissing Kendrick’s feet? That cold-hearted bastard? The monster who orchestrates the enslavement of dozens of women? No. My loyalty is to Gabriel. Only to Gabriel, not to this place, and certainly not to Kendrick.
I stare at Gabriel, eyes flashing, and for an instant, his mask slips. Underneath lies fear. His throat works, and he forces out, “Now”.
But it sounds more like “Please.”
He’s scared. The danger he thought had passed is right here in the room again, breathing down his neck. Danger to him, or me? Either way, it wouldn’t matter. Gabriel would give his life to protect me. He’s proven that.
And I gave up my freedom to protect him. Can I do this? One more thing, one more hideous indignity, to fend off whatever threat is looming over us both right now .
I force myself to look at Kendrick. He’s impassive, no hint of triumph and certainly no sign he’s turned on by the idea of my debasement. From the look of him, he could be waiting for an airplane. Just a man in a business suit, waiting for a silly girl to do as her master tells her so he can get back to his important life.
Screw him.
But not Gabriel. No matter what, I can’t let him down. It’s hard to make my limbs move, but I do. I cringe, skin flushing hot as I lower my hands to the floor and my breasts shift forward. My ass rises into the air as I force myself to crawl, every moment agony. Is there anything more humiliating than this position? Not that I can think of.
It’s only a few feet, but it feels like a mile. I can’t stop my breasts from swaying or my ass from rolling side to side. When I reach Kendrick’s polished shoes, it would be a relief if it wasn’t for what came next.
He doesn’t speak, only waits in silence as I lower my face to his shoe and plant a kiss on the tip.
A hot wash of shame scorches my insides, making my head swim. Gabriel’s voice is a lifeline. “That’s it, Eve. Good girl. Now swear your allegiance, and we’re all done. You’ve done so well.”
The praise should be embarrassing, but it’s not. It wraps around me, soothing away the hot embarrassment. I manage to find my voice and mumble, “I swear allegiance to the Brotherhood.”
“There. She did it.” The sharp edge is back in Gabriel’s voice. “Is that good enough for you?”
“Absolutely. Well done, Eve, and congratulations to you both.”
The warmth in Kendrick’s voice jerks my head up. He’s as relaxed and happy as I’ve ever seen him, all the cold tension gone. He actually smiles. I didn’t know his face could do that. He walks off the stage, returning with a beautiful green robe, which he holds out to Gabriel. Gabriel gets to his feet and takes it.
The robe is made of what looks like silk, embroidered all over with tiny colorful birds and flowers. I hadn’t expected my Ward’s robe to be pretty, and even though I’m still battling to process what I just did, something about it softens the edges of my anger.
Gabriel offers me his hand, and I get to my feet. Moving with stiff caution, he wraps the robe around my shoulders. I slide my arms into the billowy sleeves, and awkwardly, thanks to his stiff left arm, he ties the knot at the front, covering me at last.
The crowd applauds, and it snaps me out of my dazed state. I’d almost forgotten about them. Gabriel’s eyes search my face, and he leans in to whisper, “Are you okay?”
I swallow. Am I? The security of the robe helps a lot, and the adrenaline in my bloodstream lends a heady elation to the moment. It’s done. It’s really done this time. I manage a small smile. “Yes.”
Gabriel’s answering smile is radiant, and he wraps his good arm around my back, pulling me in for a kiss. I lean into it, tasting a hint of mint on his lips, and everything feels lighter.
He leans down to whisper in my ear. “Once we’re home, you’re getting straight back on your knees. That was torture.”
What? Torture for him ? My face must have shown my outrage, as he laughs. It’s incongruous in the hushed auditorium, and Kendrick clears his throat. “One more task, if you could contain yourselves a moment longer.”
It’s lighthearted, but a warning nonetheless, and Gabriel pulls back with reluctance. Kendrick gestures to a small table, set up with an ancient book and an old-fashioned pen with an ink pot. “Sign your names, please. ”
Gabriel takes my hand, and we approach the table. The book’s pages are yellowed with age, made from the kind of thin paper that’s terrifying to touch. Kendrick points to a spot. “Right here.”
Lines of names and dates. From the thickness of the book, hundreds of people have written their names here. Thousands. Gabriel takes up the pen and signs with a flourish before handing it to me.
The final step. I take my time, dipping the nib in the ink. Even with the tattoo and everything else, there’s a finality to this. Something about signing my name feels like sealing the deal. Accepting my fate.
I look at Gabriel. His eyes, warm and excited, take away the last of my fear. I’m his. And it feels good.
I close my eyes, say a final goodbye to my old life, and sign myself over to him.