Page 57 of Whispers of Fire

As I step into the dimly lit room, the heavy door closes behind me with a dull thud, and I'm suddenly facing the large wooden desk. The Shepherd stands at the center of the room, his presence towering over me with a creepy smile dancing on his face.

"Sit," he commands, gesturing towards a chair opposite his imposing desk. I comply silently, my heart pounding in my chest as I await his next words. He follows me and stands next to the chair, above me.

Instead of the usual distant tone I'm used to, he sighs and his gaze bores into mine with an intensity that sends shivers down my spine. I hate that I'm sitting right now, below him, literally and physically while he observes me like I'm his next meal.

"Rose," he begins, his voice squeaky, "You wanted to see your Shepherd, why?”

I suddenly cringe at him talking about himself in third person. I'm used to it but somehow, right now, it feels disturbing and out of place. Without the eye of the community, I'm just a girl in front of an old man wearing an odd gown. I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dries as I take my pen and my notebook from my bag. Writing something, I turn the paper towards him.

“Thank you for meeting me, Holy Shepherd, your time is valuable. I'm honored to be in your presence alone.” That should flatter him, not that he needs it, but I know I can't just ask for whatever I want.

It doesn't work that way.

He'll need to see my submission to not suspect my wariness.

“Alone.” He clicks his tongue in his mouth. “I wanted to be alone with you for a long time, little lamb,” he says, chuckling, getting closer to me and angling his head near my left ear, making my blood freeze under my skin. Everything in my body tells me to push him with all the strength I have, to run away from him as fast as I can, and perhaps even punch him.

Not a single nerve of my body tells me to stay.

Not one.

Yet he is my fiancé, my leader, my future husband.

But no.

No. No. No.

This isn't happening. I can't stand the idea of sharing a home, a life, with this man. Everything in him repulses me, from his dusty smell to his crooked nose and yellowish nails. His hand tucks a stray hair behind my ear, making me wish I could yell. His icy touch feels like a knife on my skin.

I shut my eyes.

Vox.

My dark knight.

We're dancing in his living room, his hands pulling me close to his muscular chest as I nestle my face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his addictive leather scent.

I want to be with him so bad right now, so I hold on to our stolen moments like a lifeline helping me to get through this meeting.

Time to play it smart if I want my answers before it ends.

"Holy Shepherd," I write as he pulls back a bit, my hand trembling as I address the revered leader of our community, "as your fiancée, I must ask: do you truly believe in honesty within our community?"

Playing the dumb innocent lamb is the only strategy I thought about to get what I need.

The Shepherd's eyes glint as he reads my question, his lips curling into a patronizing smile. "Honesty, child," he replies, his voice dripping with condescension, "is a virtue that must be wielded with care. You see, it’s a tool better kept hidden and offered on rare occasions."

My stomach churns at his callous dismissal of such an important value, but I steel myself and press on, still holding on to hope that he's the leader I've always known.

"And what of the outside world?" I write, my hand trembling with a mixture of fear and defiance. "Do you truly believe it to be as corrupt and deceitful as you claim?"

The Shepherd's expression darkens, his eyes narrowing as he regards me with thinly veiled contempt.

"The outside world," his voice laced with disdain, "is a cesspool of sin and depravity, a place where the weak are preyed upon by the strong. But fear not, my darling, for I will protect you from its vile influence."

His words send a chill down my spine, and I can't shake the feeling that he's using fear to maintain his control over me, and perhaps… over all of us . The outside world can't be such a dark place if people like Vox exist in it.

Not everything can be so black or white.

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