Speak No Claim (Blood Oath Brotherhood #1)

Prologue

Onyx: The Ritual

STAGE ONE: THE REBIRTH

The Brotherhood called it a rebirth.

I called it being buried alive.

At that moment, I expected my fear to feel louder than it was, though all I felt was the silence all around me.

Maybe it was the weight of the dirt packed over my body from head to toe that left me no room to panic without suffocating to death.

Or perhaps it was just the way my breaths felt like they were my last, making it difficult to swallow, piling more soil down my throat.

Or maybe, just maybe…

I finally found some peace for the first time in my life.

I always preferred darkness. A dark life. It was what I thrived in, nurturing the worst parts of me. Darkness had always felt like home to me, especially the thoughts that should’ve scared me. The ones I buried so deep inside they sometimes whispered back.

And sometimes I listened.

Maybe it was the reason being buried alive felt more comforting than terrifying, and I took refuge in that. I should’ve started clawing my way out of that grave, but there I was, contemplating my own demise. This wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last.

Although maybe, I just wanted to piss off my father, fully aware he was somewhere nearby. I could feel him, anxiously waiting for me to make my presence known to his beloved Brotherhood. It was all that ever mattered to him.

Or maybe the reality of it was, I just wanted him to think I was dying or, better yet, I had died…

The humiliation he’d endure was almost enough for me to stay right where I was, welcoming death with open arms. At least then, I wouldn’t be just another pawn in an endless game of who knew best. I was never one to be told what to do, yet there I was, willingly following his orders on the road to hell.

I couldn’t leave my sister Deja, there wouldn’t be anyone to protect her.

Little by little, the air in my lungs thinned, and I found myself wondering how many men before me died this way.

How many of them chose death rather than handing over their lives?

Survival wasn’t enough for these men. The Brotherhood didn’t just want your loyalty. They demanded your soul. Once they owned that, there was nothing left of you to reclaim.

You were there’s now.

The end.

At first, I thought I was hallucinating, and this wasn’t actually happening on my eighteenth birthday. There were always rumors of what the initiation would be. Nobody warned you. Not your father. Not your mother. Not your grandparents.

No one.

It was every man for themselves, which was the sole purpose of this ritual. They required sacrifice, and tonight, they’d see exactly how much of yourself you’d be ready to bury to belong to a world where rules wouldn’t apply to you, only your oath…

Everything the Brotherhood stood for came at a cost, and they made sure you paid in full. By the end of the ritual, the only thing that mattered was the Blood Oath Brotherhood.

Everything else was meant to die there. The boys they buried never crawled out of this grave. We weren’t even men. We were just another demon, wearing his skin.

STAGE TWO: THE BURIAL

As soon as the chanting started above me, something inside me knew what I had to do next. After all, this was my legacy. It was in my blood, whether I wanted it there or not. It was who I was born to be, and there was no denying it. No fighting it either.

I surrendered to it, or I died beneath this dirt. There was no between.

I vaguely overheard what they were chanting in Latin until I fulfilled my end of the bargain, beginning to dig my way out of that grave which was made for only me.

Inch by inch, I fought my way out. Feeling the dirt pack beneath my nails until they split open and bled.

Every breath tasted like soil and decay while my lungs burned as the earth collapsed against my chest.

Panic never took over. I didn’t know what that said about me, but I was kind of enjoying this. The thrill of playing with death was a friend I fucked with often.

Or maybe, I was just built for this type of shit.

My fingers were the first thing that broke through the dirt while the chanting above me grew louder and louder.

“Loquere Nullam Fidem,” they recited in perfect dialect and unison. “Audi Nullas Promissiones” followed, their voices deepening and growing more powerful. Next, they chanted, “Vide Nullam Temptationem,” before they started over in what I assumed to be their sacred oath.

Over and over again, they repeated, “Speak No Claim, Hear No Promises, See No Temptation.”

Now I understood why Latin was forced into me before I could even understand a word of it.

Those words were everywhere. I’d seen them scattered through our estates.

They were carved into heirlooms passed down through generations.

Engraved into watches worth more than most homes.

Stitched into clothing designed exclusively for my bloodline.

They were even painted across the walls of our estates, older than most countries.

This wasn’t a tradition. It was an inheritance. Where the only invitation the Brotherhood accepted was your DNA. This wasn’t a choice. It was a birthright. A destiny that couldn’t be ignored. There was no running from it, there was no hiding from it either.

Not when it was the only path you were ever meant to follow.

STAGE THREE: THE ASCENT

By the time the cold Connecticut air hit my face, my chest was caving in on me. I dragged myself out of that grave, finally accepting my fate and why this was considered a rebirth.

Once I was lying flat on my back, staring up at the full moon, gasping for my next frigid breath, I felt them surrounding me long before I actually saw any of them.

As their chanting grew closer, so did my realization of what they’d accomplished. They wanted you physically filthy and psychologically broken. It was how they rebuilt you again.

Their entire purpose was to mold you into whatever the Brotherhood needed. I may have lain there for hours, or it could’ve been seconds. Time just seemed to stand still.

When all of a sudden, it wasn’t just voices I heard. It was applauding. Then, in the blink of an eye, black masks were staring into my soul, hovering above me. I tried swallowing the huge lump in my throat.

This was the moment it was all over me. I had no choice. I plead my alliance to the devil, praying like Hell Satan would welcome me.

The Blood Oath Brotherhood was now my home.