Page 52 of Red

“Be at rest, child. The Mother demands that the taint be pulled from your blood amid the sacramental smoke. I shall release your blood from the holy centers that you be cleansed.”

“Like hell you will!” Arie barked, twisting away out of his reach. She threw herself so violently in the other direction that she was hanging off the bed, her feet touching down on the floor on the other side of the bed. The priest frowned at her. Reaching out, he gripped her by the arm and pulled her back onto the bed.

“There is no need to fear. You are in the presence of the most holy,” he murmured. The priest licked his lips with his thick, wet tongue as his eyes raked over her. Her skin crawling, Arie yanked on her arm in silent refusal. “The Mother desires all her children to surrender to her selected prefects who serve her in their duties.”

“I will not surrender to the likes of you,” she hissed. “There is nothing holy about what you are doing here. I demand that you leave!”

He blinked at her in confusion, his eyes watering badly from the smoke. “I do not think you understand.”

“I understand more than enough. I do not recognize your authority or any of those aligned with the Order.”

He pursed his lips. “You are clearly possessed by the influence of the taint. I must begin my work immediately. The evil planted within you is growing.”

He lifted the needle but as he brought it down Arie shifted out of the way and brought her knee into his side with every bit of what little strength she had. Apparently, it was enough because the needle clattered loudly to the floor as priest collapsed on his knees beside it. Taking advantage of the opportunity presented to her, Arie allowed gravity to do its work and brought her elbow down at an angle, striking him in the temple. He squealed in pain as he dropped onto his belly.

“Guards!” he shrieked to the men who were already hurrying over.

In a last-ditch attempt to do some lasting damage to the priest, Arie shakily brought her foot up, fully intending to kick him in the face, when she was yanked back by the guards. It took pitifully little effort on their part to roll her and hold her flat against the bed. As she struggled unsuccessfully against their vice-like grip, the priest approached, a small smile still on his lips despite the blood that he caught with a small fabric of cloth pressed against his nose. Even held as she was, Arie desperately twisted from side to side beneath their grip as he approached with the needle.

“Very good. Hold her still now, gentlemen, and the Mother who is most merciful will reward you richly for your service.”

“As long as that payment comes in coin,” one of the guards muttered under his breath.

It was spoken so low that Arie almost didn’t catch it, and the other guard covered his laugh beneath a cough. Although they clearly didn’t believe in the zealous ramblings of the priest, Arie knew she would have no help from that quarter. The loyalty of the guards was already bought and paid for by her grandmother.

With a smile that progressively widened as he drew closer, the priest drew up her nightgown, his cock tenting his robes noticeably as he placed the tip of the three-inch hook against her pubic bone. There he bore down. It wasn’t deep enough to do any significant damage, but it hurt, nonetheless. Arie felt blood dribbling down over her mons and between her thighs. He repeated the process again at her navel, then in the soft tissue just beneath her breasts. She twisted, attempting to break free from the grip of the guards, but their hands were like metal bands on her. The chanting became a meaningless drone, adding to the torture inflicted on her as he wafted incense over her and drove the needle repeatedly into her flesh.

Once he was content that she’d bled enough while exposed to the sacramental smoke, the priest rose above her, metal tongs clenching a hot coal. Arie’s eyes widened, and she renewed her struggles. The hands holding her down immediately tightened and the weight behind them bore down, keeping her helplessly pinned in place as the priest drew close with the coal. The first contact with her wound almost brought her up off the bed, a scream tearing from her throat. Twice more she endured the same treatment as he “sealed” her purification along the sacred centers of her body. Sweat broke out over her skin as she shuddered in agony.

He grinned down at her with obvious delight. “You are now purified, daughter of the House of Avernel. May you now find favor in the eyes of the Mother as you prepare to receive your upcoming joining with your lord and master, the First Elite of the Order.”

Tears gathered beneath her eyelashes and Arie bit back her pitiful moans born from a body wracked with pain. In her heart, however, something new solidified: an iron determination to get far away from the Citadel, her grandmother and his lordship. No one would be her master. She yielded to none but her mates. One way or another, the First Elite Edwar was going to be very disappointed.

Chapter

Twenty-Nine

Even with the accelerated healing of a Ragoru, it took Kyx days to recover enough for their triad to move from the cave and begin the search for signs of their mate. Warol had been out every day hunting the surrounding perimeter. It was by a strike of good fortune that he found signs of the encampment late on the second day. He hadn’t investigated the camp, outside of assuring himself that their mate was still alive and had left with the huntsmen from the area, but rather he came back to the cave to report his findings. Kyx had wanted to investigate the camp right away and managed as far as dragging himself to his feet before he was far too easily restrained by the calming embrace of his lead. It was only by Rager’s insistence that he give his body another few nights to heal, and to regain the strength that their mate would need, that he’d been convinced to lay back down.

As the days passed, however, Kyx resented that his mending body prevented them from searching for their mate right away. It was bad enough that he wrestled with his shame over his failure and inability to protect Arie, regardless of how many times his brothers attempted to reassure him that he had fought admirably, but lying there helpless was worse. He hated that he was powerless to leap to his feet and track the men who stole their mate, and it frustrated him every minute that he was confined to rest. Being able to finally get on the trail early that morning as Warol led them through the woods was nothing short of a relief.

Racing after his brother, Kyx breathed in the scent of the woods as he ran, searching instinctively for the perfume of their mate. Although Warol had said she’d still been alive when she left the area, he still felt the need for more than that. He had to reassure his body and spirit that she still lived and was waiting for him. It was not Arie that he caught first, but the foul smell of the camp hit him from a distance, long before he saw it. Although it had been of sufficient distance to prevent them from scenting it in their regular patrols around the cave, it was easy to identify once they came near. The humans must have been confident of their location because whatever substance they had used to cover their scents they had not used it within the confines of their own camp. The entire area reeked of no fewer than fifteen individual stale scent signatures. The scent of the huntsmen with their distinct smell of sour sweat and male musk blended with a noxious smell of burnt plant material made his stomach turn. He gagged and Warol, who once would have smiled at the display, gave him a knowing, sympathetic look from where he prowled nearby.

Warol’s expression hardened they neared a cloth structure that smelled of their mate and death. It was one of very few half-collapsed structures in the dirt clearing. Saplings were bent at odd angles from where they’d been lashed or trampled, and the grass was flattened. The flap of the structure fluttered from one side. Kyx’s stomach roiled as fear rose rapidly through him.

Had they been mistaken, and they were too late?

His steps slowed with dread, but Rager pushed ahead of them with a deep growl. Although he did not wish to see what lay within the human shelter, he refused to linger outside while the others investigated. He owed their mate better than that. Swallowing his nausea, Kyx followed behind Warol as they slipped inside behind Rager.

The scent of rot was particularly strong inside, overwhelmingly so. Kyx slowed with reluctance at the sight of a bloodied body, every part of him rebelling at the idea of seeing his mate’s tortured remains. His ear twitched as Rager drew a shaky breath and made a choked sound in the back of his throat that sounded much like relief to Kyx’s ears.

“It is not her,” Rager whispered.

Kyx pushed forward, his heart hammering. His eyes widened at the sad remains as he drew near. Rager was correct; it was not Arie. The body was bigger, and beneath the blood was a fine coat of fur and what was left of three mangled breasts were clearly visible. Kyx exchanged a look with Warol. Why would anyone savage that female so brutally?

“Is that…?”

Warol sighed and nodded. “The ehurmu female. They must have discovered that Arie was with us from her and used her to track us.”

---