Page 79 of The Secrets of Roan Island

At a knock, we both tense, our eyes darting to the door, but neither of us moves to answer it. It doesn’t matter, because Hammish doesn’t wait for an invitation. He swings open the door with all the pompous arrogance I’ve come to expect from the man.

His leering gaze sweeps over me before softening as it lands on his daughter. “You both look lovely.”

He pulls a white handkerchief from his pocket, and Zarah obediently turns around so he can tie it over her eyes. This clearly isn’t the first time they’ve done this.

“You next, pet.” He motions for me to do the same. For a brief moment, I consider attacking him or running past him toward the door, but it would be useless. Besides having no idea how to get out of here—wherever here is—he’d take it out on his children. I also know he’s taking me to the ceremony, where Noah is, which is where I want to go. I’d be a fool to interfere with that.

As docile as a lamb, I turn my back to Hammish exactly like he wants.

He steps up behind me, but stops and grips my shoulder, pulling me roughly against him so I can feel his hot breath against the shell of my ear. “You were supposed to bathe. You reek of my son.” His nail scratches at the spot where Noah’s mark lingers, ripping the skin. Blood oozes down my shoulder.

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from saying something that could hurt Noah further.

“If you survive this,” Hammish whispers as he swipes a finger in the blood, then licks it with a noise that makes me shudder. “I’ll ensure you never smell of anyone but me.”

“Father,” Zarah interrupts. “We don’t want to be late. The moons will only be aligned for a short time.”

Hammish doesn’t respond, but he stops toying with me and ties the handkerchief tightly over my eyes. Then he grips my upper arm and jerks me along.

As he leads me from Zarah’s prison, I think about everything I’ve learned, about what Zarah revealed. I’ll need to find a way to get away from Hammish before he tries to bite me. Since there’s a ritual to this dance we’re involved in, it’s best to follow the steps for now and wait for the right opportunity to change them when it presents itself.

After what Zarah told me about her grandmother and love, I just hope Noah carries the same flame I’ve realized I’m nurturing for him. It’s the only way I’ll survive. That, and convincing him to be the one to bite me, which will be the real challenge considering how certain he is that a Solstice bite will only bring death. All while keeping Hammish from doing it before Noah can.

Hammish leads us through the maze of the house, up and down stairs that curve into hallways smelling of time and musty abandonment. These corridors have been used more frequently, free of the whisper of spiderwebs against my skin. But unlike our flight from the Gate House, this journey seems shorter. A door creaks, and cold sinks its fangs into my skin.

A brisk breeze strikes my face. “Are we outside?”

“Shh, pet, the goddess likes her women silent.”

Like hell she does. I can’t imagine agoddessbeing silent or asking women to be silent, though I don’t know much about the Mavarri religion. I do know that the woman I met in the journals was far from silent. She was powerful and witty and strong.

I try to channel her now as I’m led toward an unknown future or a certain death. My feet hit stone until it shifts to loose gravel, our steps loud and sloppy against the slippery terrain.The wind howls as it whips through the trees. They creak under its onslaught, and frigid moisture softly kisses my skin.

It’s snowing.

I shiver. Hammish jerks me to a stop. “Kneel,” he instructs, tugging me down to my knees. Cold moisture saturates the soft silk of my dress. “We seek the goddess’s approval on the steps of her temple with our supplication.”

Though I’m unfamiliar with this particular custom, I’m not ignorant of religious traditions and assume he’s instructing me to pray, so I bow my head, anxiety knocking around inside me. I hope he’s not going to keep me blindfolded the whole time.

When he yanks me back to my feet, we climb several stone steps before I hear the scrape of stone against stone, like a heavy door opening.

The first thing I notice is the warm scent of resin and frankincense. “Noah?” I whimper.

“I’m here,ta’ari.”

The sound of his voice grabs my racing heart and pulls me forward as if he’s offering an embrace. The timbre connects to my spine, giving me strength, somehow, bravery. I straighten, holding tight to that feeling even as frightened as I am, clinging to memories of him, of his great-great-grandmother’s strength, of Zarah’s fortitude.

“Ta’ari?” Hammish scoffs, yanking me further inside the temple with a growl. “Know your place,” he barks at Noah. “She’s mine.”

Mine. There’s a night and day difference to that word coming from Hammish. Was it only last night Noah said it to me? Hammish’smineclanks like chains around my feet, a noose fastened around my neck. But when Noah saysmine, it’s like a caress across my skin. I’m a treasure he holds with great care. Precious. Valued.His.

“Noah, you need to be the one to–” My words are muzzled by the sound of pain.

A loud smack feeds my dread. “What’s happening?”

Hammish pulls off my blindfold to reveal Noah crumpled on the stone floor, his back arched over a set of stairs to a dais, his head pressed awkwardly against a massive boulder, worn smooth, at the center of the platform. His face and body contort as he writhes on the floor.

Hammish laughs, the sound bouncing around the interior of the stone building. It’s dark but for the candles set around the circumference of the room, giving off a soft golden glow. A circular section of the roof directly over the dias opens to the sky, revealing the moons almost perfectly aligned overhead. Snow, luminous in that ethereal way it manipulates light, falls through the ceiling and drifts around us, damp and cold, kissing Noah’s pale, tortured face.

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