Worshipped in Ash

Prologue

Rory

Ryven’s arm is heavy across my waist, his chest warm against my back, and his breath is steady at the nape of my neck.

For a moment, I let myself pretend this is all there is. Nothing looming over us. No choices we have to make. Just this moment. I pretend that we are safe and nothing is waiting to take him from me.

I trace lazy patterns over his forearm, following the lines of muscle like I can commit them to my brain forever. Maybe if I focus hard enough I’ll always feel his arm wrapped around me and this transition won’t be so hard.

I want to remember this version of him. The soft, calm, loving version that holds me when I’m feeling lonely. But I know with time he will change. The Order of Ash will rip this version of him apart and make him a new one that fits their standards.

My chest tightens at the thought of him not being here with me. I shouldn’t be thinking about it yet. I shouldn’t be mourning a man who is still wrapped around me, but I can’t help it. I already know what is to come.

“Ryven…” I whisper.

He hums softly behind me, not fully asleep. He never really sleeps anymore. None of us do—not like we used to.

“What?” he murmurs.

I hesitate. I don’t want to ruin the moment. I don’t want him to stress about what’s to come like I am. Because if I say it out loud, it makes it real.

“They’re really going to make you choose tomorrow.”

His arm tightens slightly around me. “Yeah.”

That’s it. That’s all I get is a yeah. Like it’s just a choice. A choice he already made long ago and now the day has come. Like it’s not going to change everything we ever dreamed of.

I let out a breath and roll onto my back to stare at the cracked ceiling above me. The ceiling fan twirls in a low circle, wafting the smell of old clothes from the corner.

He isn’t the only one who’s acting like tomorrow is a normal day. Everyone is. Like it’s just another step in this life we live. We graduate. We choose our life faction. Then we disappear into whatever that choice changes us into.

The worst part is—Ryven could choose a less dangerous faction.

He could go into infrastructure. Hell, he could go into production line work and help build new items for the district.

But no… him and my brother Joey have already chosen.

They know exactly what they want to do tomorrow and there is nothing I can do to stop it.

I roll to face him and frown. “Why do you have to choose the Order of Ash?”

He sighs, running his fingers along my hip. “You know why, Rory. I can’t leave him.”

I close my eyes remembering my brother’s words. “It won't be that bad, Ro. Just think of how badass we will be when we come home.”

But it’s not that simple. You don’t just join and then get to leave. Once you’re part of their system, they never let you out. And Ryven is willing to sacrifice his life to follow my brother–his best friend into the choice that will change them forever.

My brother has always searched for a purpose in life after our parents died.

He wanted to be the best of the best. Follow in our father’s footsteps.

But I saw what the order took from my father over the years.

The dark bags under my mother’s eyes from all the worry she did.

The way our family shrank to fit under the cult’s thumb.

That’s not a life that I want to live and now that choice is being forced on me anyway. Because I can’t live without Ryven. I don’t want to have to choose between them. And at the end of the day he isn’t doing it for the glory, he’s doing it for Joey.

Ryven’s hand slides up my side, fingers pressing into my skin like he’s grounding himself.

“I hate this,” I whisper.

“I know you do. But I’ll still be me, Ro. We will still be the same two people.”

I shake my head. “No we won’t. You can’t promise that. The order is going to chew you up and spit you out into something else. How will you even know if you will still love me after it all?”

Ryven’s jaw tightens as he rolls me onto my back and sets himself between my legs. “How could you ask me a question like that?” he nips at my chin before placing a chaste kiss on my lips. “No matter what happens to me. No matter what I see. No matter anything… I will always want you.”

I fist the sheets to the side of me and arch my back to press against him. “And what if I don’t want you after everything?”

His eyes darken briefly before he moves my panties to the side and presses the head of his cock to my skin. “Then I’ll remind you.”

He quickly gets off the bed and grabs his knife off the bedside table before laying across my legs to hold me in place.

“What are you doing?” I squirm, trying to get free. But, I don’t fight him the way I should.

“Making it so you can’t forget me.”

Ryven

I ignore her protests as I draw the blade through the final line, completing the X carved into the curve of her hip. Blood beads instantly, dark against her skin. When I’m done, I press a rag over the fresh mark, firm enough to slow the bleeding, not enough to spare her the sting.

“Sweet Ro,” I murmur, leaning close enough that my breath brushes over her lips. “This isn’t about love tonight.”

My hand tightens slightly around her throat—not enough to hurt her, but enough to make her feel me.

To make her understand. “It’s a claim.”

She sucks in a breath, her fingers gripping my shirt instead of pushing me away.

That’s the part that gets me. Because she could stop me. She always could. But she never does.

“You are mine, Rory,” I tell her against her lips, my voice rougher than I expect it to be. “I don’t care if you fight me. I don’t care if you hate me.”

I yank her closer and smear her blood across her lips with my thumb before crushing my mouth to hers again. She moans into the kiss, hands gripping my shirt as I settle between her legs. When I finally pull back, I take her in through hooded eyes, exactly where she belongs—beneath me.

“Mine,” I growl, nipping at her chest before moving to her exposed breast.

Under this light, she is beautiful. Her skin calls to me.

I bite and suck at her breasts, making her arch against me.

She writhes beneath my weight and the struggle stirs something inside me.

I love it when she fights me off. When I am forced to push her to her limits.

The ones right on the edge are my favorite.

That is when the true Rory comes out to play.

“Ryven,” she moans as I travel to her naval. I want to feel her spasming on my tongue before I take what is mine.

Slowly, I inch closer to her wet pussy. When I dip my fingers inside her, she’s already soaked. I look at her as she fists my hair in her hand.

A smirk plays on my lips. “Looks like you liked the pain, Ro.”

She groans and shifts her hips toward me, impatient like she always is. “Stop teasing me!”

I shouldn’t want her like this—but I do. Fuck, I do.

I lick my lips and gently tap on her clit, making her legs spasm on either side of me. “Will you be patient? I want to devour you. I want to savor this time with you. I don’t know when I’ll get a chance to play in this pretty cunt of yours again.”

She doesn’t have time to respond before I lower my mouth to her clit and snag it inside. Slowly and methodically, I lap at her wetness, licking, sucking, and biting, until she is a squirming mess in the palm of my hands.

“Please, Ryven,” she breathes.

I release her for a moment before smirking. “Please, what Ro?” I dip lower and flick my tongue over her clit quickly, making her voice catch in her throat, and she arches her back off the bed.

She grabs me by the back of the head and holds me to her center until her body goes rigid. Hard quakes rack her body, and she cums onto my tongue.

“Ryven!” she moans, her legs squeezing tighter.

When her body relaxes beneath me, I pause for half a second. Just a second. Her fingers are still in my hair, her breathing uneven as she comes down.

And for a moment—she looks at me like we could run away. Like we could never choose and be together forever.

So I move again before I can think about it too much.

Before I can let myself feel anything I shouldn’t.

I crawl up her body and scoop her into my arms against me.

“I’m not done with you yet, baby.” I kiss her, hard and fast, before positioning myself between her legs and pushing inside her.

My legs shudder at the feel of her sucking me inside. “Fuck, baby. You feel like heaven.”

Rory rakes her nails down my chest as I glide out and slowly push back inside. This might be the last time I get to feel her wrapped around me for months, maybe even a year. I slide in and out, quicker this time, and I have my answer. A grunt leaves my mouth.

I angle myself so I can watch where we connect.

It’s glorious. She fits my cock so perfectly inside of her.

We were meant to be together. I pick up the pace, creating a brutal rhythm.

Rory soars, scooting along the bed, thrust after thrust, until she’s against the headboard.

She uses her hand to brace herself, shoving her tight pussy on me. Fuck. This is a feeling I chase.

Harder. Faster. I race after my release until it is right on the edge. Pleasure prickles up my spine and then my knees begin to shake. “I’m close, Ro,” I growl, preparing her so she can finish for a second time on my cock.

It only takes a few more slams inside her before she falls apart under me. My pleasure spikes, and I rapidly tug my cock out before I spill hot cum onto her stomach. So much of it shoots onto her belly, coating her skin.

Once I’m done, I drag my fingers through the mess on her stomach, mixing us together without thinking. Marking her. Not because I was taught to. Not because anyone told me to. But because something in me needs it. Needs her to carry a piece of me with her.

We thought we had more time. We were wrong.