Page 79 of The Cult

My eyes widened in concern. “Who is Sterling?”

“He’s one of the guards,” Tobias explained casually, as if it were no big deal.

My apprehension escalated into alarm. “What? We can’t tell him,” I whispered urgently. “No one can know about this.” I glanced around to ensure no one—especially the guards—had overheard our conversation.

Tobias must’ve sensed my anxiety. He squeezed my shoulder and searched for my eyes. “Abel, look at me,” he said. His tone was calm and soothing. “It’s okay. You trust me, right?”

I hesitated for a moment, my mind racing with doubt. But then, recalling the countless times Tobias had come through for me, I nodded slowly. “Yeah, I trust you.”

“Then trust me on this one.” He gave my shoulder another reassuring squeeze.

“I will.” My tension began to ebb away. If he believed he could trust Sterling, then I should trust him too.

“You’ll never have to do this all alone,” Tobias assured me. “I’ll be beside you until this is over.”

“And what happens when this is all over?” I held my breath, waiting for his response, dreading the prospect of parting ways with Tobias. What about me?

“Then it’ll be over and you’ll be free.” A somber expression settled in his eyes.

We resumed our training. His words replayed in my head. Then it’ll be over and you’ll be free.

For the first time ever, I wanted to stay.

Thirty-Three: Tobias

“The fight you’re training for is deadlier than you think,” I began. There was no way to sugar-coat the news. I couldn’t do that anyway, even if I tried. I’d preferred the painful truth my entire life. It hardened me, made me who I was.

“Deadlier how?” someone sitting on the bed asked.

“We fight till someone dies,” Abel answered, crossing his arms. He turned his back to us and stared at the ceiling, then pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What?!” The group erupted; a couple of the young men rising to their feet appeared dumbfounded by the bomb we dropped.

“We’re gonna have to fucking kill each other?” one asked.

“Shhh,” I hushed. My eyes darted to the entrance. “Keep it down.” I headed to the door to check if any of the guards were within earshot. Satisfied, I continued, “No, you’re not fighting each other. Orcus will bring other guys from the outside.” My attention drifted to Abel, who was now standing among the trainees. “At least, we think they’re from the outside.”

“I think that’s one of the reasons why we’re chosen,” Abel added.

Together, Abel and I relayed the scant information we knew about the motivation behind the selection of the guys and their preparation. We let the weight of it settle, allowing them to collect their thoughts.

The air was rife with tension. Fears were expressed with agonizing groans and muttered curses. I understood. I’d been in their shoes many times when I was uncertain whether I’d live another day. That uncertainty was the reason I joined The Firm. They offered stability and comfort, no matter how fucked up it was. Anger simmered within me at the reminder of the force that once controlled me. Justice would be served—but not until I ensured Abel’s safety and I was done with Orcus. He needed to pay for his crimes.

Abel blew out a shaky breath. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes burned with anger. He mouthed “thank you” when our eyes connected.

I acknowledged him with a nod. A knot settled in the pit of my stomach about all the what-ifs running through my head. What if I hadn’t come here? What if we fail to escape in time? What if Abel has to fight? What if he loses?

Fill your heart with revenge and anger so there is no room for anything else; I reminded myself of my mantra so I could focus.

“I don’t wanna fuckin’ die,” the tallest guy from the group exclaimed, raking his buzzed hair with his fingers. “I’m gonna get killed,” he kept repeating in time with his pacing.

“Hey,” I called, but the guy seemed too distraught to hear me. I stood in front of him and grabbed his shoulders. “What’s your name?”

“Huh?” he replied, tears threatening to fall from his eyes.

“Tell me your name.”

A wide range of reactions rippled through the group. Fury contorted some faces, while fear creased the brows of others. Except for Abel—he remained poised.

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