Chapter 17
17
T he night air clung to my skin, heavy and damp, as I stumbled out of the catacombs, breathless and shaking. My body still thrummed with the sensation of Camber’s touch, his stoic intensity lingering like a ghost on my flesh. But I couldn’t stop now, couldn’t linger in the dark, winding corridors in the Earth. There was more to come—another trial, another step deeper into their world.
Into my world now.
The manor loomed ahead as I wound through the forest, its dark silhouette jagged against the night sky. I felt its pull, a magnetic force that drew me closer, promising both danger and ecstasy. The path was dimly lit by the flickering torches that lined the way, their flames dancing like wraiths in the wind. Shadows twisted and curled around me, enticing me forward.
I knew I shouldn’t be here, that whatever awaited me within those walls was far from safe, but that was the point, wasn’t it? The thrill, the danger, the unknown—it was what I craved, what I needed. My pulse quickened with every step, the anticipation coiling in my stomach like a snake ready to strike.
As I neared the entrance, the massive doors groaned open, the sound echoing through the night. All the partygoers were gone, and for that, I was glad. I wanted the rest of the night to us.
The foyer was bathed in a soft, golden candlelight, the kind that made everything seem almost too real, too vivid. No more strobe lights, no more neon flashes fucking up my mind. My senses were on high alert, every sound sharper, every breath louder in the stillness. The air was thick with the scent of incense, something musky and ancient.
And then, I saw them.
Chamberlain stood at the center of the room, his presence dominating the space. His dark eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, I forgot to breathe. He was the embodiment of power, of control, and he knew it. The room seemed to bend to his will, every shadow, every flicker of light dancing at his command. His gaze raked over me, assessing, calculating, like a predator sizing up its prey.
To his right, Atley leaned casually against the wall, a soft, almost teasing smile playing at the corners of his lips. But there was a darkness in his eyes, a depth that hinted at something far more dangerous than his gentle demeanor suggested. He was the calm before the storm, the eye of the hurricane, and I felt myself being drawn into his orbit, helpless to resist.
Camber lingered in the background, his expression unreadable, his presence a quiet, steady force. He didn’t need words or actions to convey his power—it was in his silence, in the way he watched, always observing, always waiting. He was the shadow that never left, the constant reminder there was no escape, no way out once you were in.
And I was in.
There was no turning back now.
I stepped forward, my heart pounding in my chest, my pulse a relentless drumbeat in my ears. The room seemed to close in around me, the air thick with anticipation, with the weight of what was to come. I could feel their eyes on me, a trio of wolves circling their prey, ready to strike.
Chamberlain spoke first, his voice low and commanding, a tone that brooked no argument. “You’re here because you want this, Priestly. Because you need this.” He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming, consuming. “But there’s no going back. Once you’re in, you’re ours.”
I swallowed hard, the words lodging in my throat. This was it—the moment of no return. I could still feel the soil under my nails, the weight of the dirt that had suffocated me, the oppressive darkness that had almost broken me. But I’d survived. I was here, standing before them, and the thought of walking away never even crossed my mind.
Chamberlain’s gaze intensified, and he reached out, his fingers brushing against my cheek, tracing a line down to my jaw. The touch was electric, sending a jolt of awareness through me. “Say it, Priestly,” he whispered, his breath warm against my skin. “Say you’re ours.”
A shiver ran through me, and I met his gaze, unflinching. “I’m yours,” I whispered, the words a vow, a surrender.
Atley’s smile widened, a flash of white teeth in the dim light. He pushed off the wall and approached, his movements slow, deliberate. “You have no idea what you’ve just signed up for,” he murmured, his voice laced with dark amusement. “But I promise you, you’re going to love every second of it.”
He reached for my hand, his touch gentle, almost reverent, as he lifted it to his lips. His eyes never left mine as he pressed a kiss to my knuckles, the gesture somehow both tender and possessive. “Welcome to the family, little saint,” he murmured against my skin, the words sending a thrill down my spine. “The real family, more important than blood or adoptions.”
Camber remained silent, his gaze piercing, as though he could see straight through me, down to my very soul. He stepped forward, his hand brushing against the small of my back as he moved, his touch brief but searing. He didn’t speak, but the look he gave me was enough to set my blood on fire.
And then, they closed in around me, a living wall of heat and power, their presence suffocating, intoxicating. I was surrounded, consumed by them, their bodies pressing close, their touches igniting every nerve in my body. It was overwhelming, the intensity of it all, the sensation of being claimed, of being owned.
Chamberlain’s hands gripped my bare shoulders, his breath hot against my ear. “You belong to us now,” he growled, his voice thick with possession. “Mind, body, soul. Every part of you.”
Atley’s fingers trailed down my arm, his touch feather-light but leaving a trail of fire in its wake. “And we take care of what’s ours,” he whispered, his lips brushing against the pulse point in my wrist.
Camber’s hand settled on my waist, his grip firm, grounding me in the whirlwind of sensation. “You’re in this for life,” he said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through my bones. “There’s no going back.”
I felt the weight of their words, the gravity of what I’d just committed to, but instead of fear, all I felt was a deep, primal satisfaction. This was where I belonged, where I was meant to be—surrounded by darkness, by power, by them.
Chamberlain tilted my head back, forcing me to meet his gaze once more. “Say it again,” he demanded, his voice rough, commanding. “Say you’re ours.”
I let the words slip past my lips, a whisper, a promise, a surrender. “I’m yours.”
And in that moment, I knew it to be true.
I was theirs.
Mind, body, soul.
Forever.