Chapter 34 #2
I sat up, my head and throat aching, and squinted in the dim light.
Before I could get a good look around the tent, a shadow moved toward me, and a strangled shriek escaped my lips.
A dirty, white, tattered robe came into view, and then the person crouched before me, revealing the horrifying face of a Voiceless prophet.
I pressed against the pole, trying to get as far away as possible, but there was nowhere to go.
He looked like a man, beard stubble poking out from the thick white paint that coated his face.
His eye sockets were blackened with what looked like ash, creating the illusion of a skull, and streaks ran down his face from sweat or tears.
The customary black thread stitched his lips closed, and the holes pierced in his skin were red and irritated.
Dried blood and who knew what else crusted the thread.
His mouth opened slightly, and his tongue pressed a wet knot of black thread out between his lips. He lifted pale hands with long fingernails and calmly picked at the knot as I watched in disgust. It took him almost a minute, but he got it untied, then grabbed one end of the thread and pulled.
My stomach churned as the black thread began sliding from the puncture holes in his lips. It caught often, blood trickling from several of the holes, but he never even flinched. My entire body itched to clean out the wounds.
The thread finally came free, and the Voiceless smiled, flashing yellowed teeth.
“Ember Cutler,” he said in a thin, raspy voice that made all my hair stand on end.
“So not voiceless after all,” I scoffed hoarsely with far more bravado than I felt.
He smiled wider, and more blood dribbled from the holes in his skin. “Our voices are for the gods alone.”
I glanced pointedly around the tent. It was empty except for us.
“Gods… and goddesses,” he said reverently, and fear coursed through me.
“I am not a goddess,” I snapped.
“The prophecy states that to fulfill the covenant, the Goddess of Life must unite with the God of Death. Their union shall forge a new era, cleansing the ashes of Before and igniting the embers of genesis.”
I stared at him, my heart pounding.
“I am the Prophet Talmar. I bandaged your burned hand and re-bandaged your wrists.” His eyes narrowed. “How did you come to be injured?”
I wiggled my fingers, realizing one of my hands was wrapped in gauze, but I was more concerned with what he’d said before.
“What do you mean, ‘unite’?” I demanded.
He smiled. “A union of flesh and blood. Your children shall inherit the earth.”
A union of flesh and blood.
A roaring sound filled my ears.
Your children.
I wanted to appear strong and defiant, but my body started trembling as the horror of what he’d just said slowly registered.
I thought I’d experienced the worst ways I could be used, but this was a whole new level of fucked up I had stupidly never considered.
They wanted to breed me like an animal to their God of Death in hopes that our children would also have power?
I sucked in a breath through my nose, trying to keep from being sick.
“No,” I choked out. “Fuck, no.”
He made a disapproving sound through his teeth. “It has been written.”
“By who? ”
“By the High Priestess.”
I had no idea who that was, but a new fear stabbed through me. I had to make sure these assholes did not find out about Clarity. She’d already experienced someone else controlling her body, and I would do anything to keep it from happening again. “I’d rather die,” I hissed.
“It matters not what you want, Goddess. We serve a greater purpose than ourselves.” He smiled like he thought his words were comforting. “It is a great honor to be the bride of Death and carry his children.”
That sounded like some Carth bullshit, and I couldn’t help the bitter laugh that escaped my lips. “I’d rather die,” I repeated.
Talmar pursed his lips and tilted his head, studying me.
“The God of Death is the one who blessed you with your sacred healing powers. You were always meant to be his Goddess, and without him, your powers will corrupt. You feel it, don’t you?
” He leaned forward slightly, reddened eyes fixed on me. “The darkness in your veins?”
I bit the inside of my cheek hard, willing myself not to react, but it felt like something slithered beneath my skin as though summoned by his words.
“Even now, your healing power weakens. If you continue on this path, your body will decline, and you will become a harbinger of sickness and death. Only by submitting to this union can you ensure the protection of yourself and those you care for.”
Fear choked me, but there was no way I would submit to this.
His eyes dipped down, and a terrifying expression flashed across his face.
He moved, and I flinched, but he grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled it down to reveal the brand on my chest. I tried to jerk away, but his other gloved hand grabbed my arm, holding me in place with a grip that felt inhumanely strong.
His eyes hardened, and he gently ran his fingers over the mark, ignoring me as I tried again to yank my arm free.
When he raised his head, the muscles in his neck strained against his skin, and his nostrils flared as he bared his teeth.
“The traitor has claimed your flesh?” he snarled.
I shrank back from that rage, my head spinning. Traitor? Before I could speak, a pained expression crossed his face, and he pulled my shirt back up with an unsettling tenderness and released my arm.
“Forgive me, Goddess.” His bloodshot eyes held mine, and I realized they were hazel. The color made him seem more human, but the frenzied light that shone in them made my blood run cold. “Did I hurt you?”
“What do you mean, ‘traitor’?” I asked shakily instead of answering.
“Juck.” His face twisted like he’d bitten into something sour. “He heard the prophecy, along with several other faithful members, and then he deserted his post. I can only assume he thought if he found the Goddess of Life first, he could finally achieve the godhood he so desired.”
My mind flashed back to that moment in the desert, the shock and excitement that had filled Juck’s face as I healed Grip. I thought I was showing him I could be useful so he wouldn’t kill me, but instead, I just demonstrated that I was exactly the person he’d been searching for.
“He said I was an angel,” I heard myself say as though I was floating outside my body.
Talmar hissed angrily through his teeth, startling me enough to look at him. The muscles in his neck corded again as he clenched his fists. “He knew you were no such thing.”
I had no idea what to do with this information. Juck had wanted to be a god. He’d repeatedly told me he was a god, the divine, and I was his angel.
“He should have worshiped at your feet,” Talmar continued, stroking my arm. “Now you are where you belong, among your devoted.”
I jerked my arm away. “I’m not an angel or a goddess.”
His brow furrowed, lips pressing tightly together for a second before he sighed. “I see we have our work cut out for us.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” My hackles rose.
He pressed a hand against his heart momentarily.
“You should have been raised among us with the knowledge of your true purpose. You’ve long been neglected, left to grow wild in ignorance.
” His tone was patronizing, and it set my teeth on edge.
“But the God of Death guides our hands, and we shall mold you into the vessel you are destined to be.”
I had to stop thinking that events in my life were the worst they could possibly be. The universe seemed determined to prove me wrong. He waited, staring into my eyes like he expected my undying gratitude and oath of devotion to the God of Death, and I did have some words for him—just two.
“Fuck. You.”
His expression hardened, and he abruptly stood, making me cringe, but he just strode to the tent’s entrance and left.
Alone, I slumped against the pole, my body shaking.
I had to get out of here. It felt like I’d gone in a horrible circle—I’d escaped the oppression of Carth, where my sole purpose was to submit and have children, only to end up in the exact same role for a fucking god.
“Mac? Mac, can you hear me?” I tried, desperate, but there was no answer.
I didn’t know what to do.
Had Wolf known the details? Had he known what the Voiceless wanted with me?
I remembered the fear that had flashed through his eyes when I threatened to follow them, the grim determination on his face as he left me restrained in the clinic.
Fury and guilt twisted together in my chest. If he knew, why didn’t he just fucking tell me?
The tent flap abruptly opened, and I went cold all over as Talmar and another Voiceless entered, dragging a child with them.
“Let go! Let go of me!” the child sobbed.
They shoved the small body forward—hard enough that the child sprawled on the ground at my feet. The child lifted their head, and I stared in horror at the familiar tear-streaked face, the wide hazel eyes, and the head of soft black curls.
“Roe?” I gasped.