Page 105 of Sinful

I could feel my pulse quickening, a steady drumbeat of anxiety building in my chest. The old stories of Matthieu Brouxard were suddenly flooding my mind. His family had been forced to flee their village in Europe when rumors of witchcraft and devil worship spread like wildfire. Villagers with torches had surrounded their home, their faces twisted with rage and fear, and Brouxard’s family had barely escaped with their lives. It was a tale that had always haunted me; a grim reminder of how quickly people could turn against their own.

Now, I felt like I was living that old tale myself, hunted by my own people.

I glanced nervously down the main street, hoping for a sign of my father and the other elders. They had to return soon, and with them they would bring reason and calm, dispelling the suspicion that had taken root in the village. I clung to that hope like a lifeline.

Finally, I saw them coming, their ritual cloaks flowing around them as they walked slowly up the torch-lined street. Relief washed over me at the sight of my father. I expected him to smile, to be happy to see me, but as he drew closer, his expression was not what I’d anticipated. There was relief in his eyes, but there was something else too; something that twisted my stomach into knots.

Distrust.

It was subtle, a mere shadow in his gaze, but it was still there. My heart sank, and the stories of Brouxard’s family flashed through my mind again, more vivid than ever. The whole world seemed to be closing in around me, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was on the brink of something terrible.

I shouldn’t have given the charm away to those friendly teenagers, but I did, and now my luck had finally run out. The Entity had abandoned me.

The Entity isn’t real, Rose.It’s just a trick to control you.Sebastian’s words flashed in my mind, but I pushed them aside, unwilling to hear them right now. I needed the Entity to return to my side more than anything at a time like this.

Please, please, please…

“Papa,” I said, rising to my feet as my father stopped in his tracks.

“Rosamund,” he said softly. “It’s true. You have returned to us.”

I nodded and forced a smile. “Yes. I was with—”

“The Entity. Or so you claim.”

“I…” I faltered, heart racing even faster. “What do you mean, Papa?”

Two of the elders flanking him stepped forward, arms outstretched. “You must come with us, Rosamund,” one of them said. “You need to confess.”

“What? No!” I cried out, backing away. Confessions were only for accused criminals. The very thought sent me into a panic, mind spiraling and stomach churning. “Papa, what is this?”

“You know what this is. We need to be sure your word is true,” he said stonily, averting his eyes.

Desperation and terror gripped me with icy fingers as I begged for mercy, my voice cracking. “Please, Papa, don’t do this! You have to believe me! I was with the Entity!” I said, words tumbling out in a rush.

His face remained stern, and he lifted a hand to gesture to the elders. The two with outstretched arms grabbed me, pinning my arms to my side, and another produced a brown cloth from his robe.

Before I could scream, the cloth was pressed over my mouth. A sickly-sweet scent filled my nostrils, and I struggled against the strong arms holding me to no avail.

Darkness crept in at the edges of my vision, and the village and torches around me blurred as my knees buckled. The last thing I heard was the muffled sound of voices, distant and fading as I sank into the black void, and the last thing I thought of was a singular name.

Sebastian.

To be continued….

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