Page 7 of Bloodmoon Ritual

There was silence for a moment on the city street, the only sounds the distant traffic, those who could fleeing that part of the city.

“The cane,” Eli said, and there was a note of triumph in his voice.

Prickles of panicky anxiety broke out all over my skin.

That was a harsh punishment, usually reserved for theworstoffenders in the Congregation.

“Done,” said Rhyder. “Do what you need to do.”

Eli let me drop, hard, on to the cement, and I felt Rhyder’s eyes drag down my body with every inch.

My ankle stung where I landed on it, and my throat ached as I pulled my hoodie tighter to shield my face.

Rhyder was already on the ground, pulling off his thick leather jacket so he was only in his thin white T-shirt. He knelt beside his bike, his eyes locked on me,eatingme up. I felt the familiar shiver of his eager consumption.

“12 blows,” Eli said. “One for each month you plan to keep this common whore all to yourself.”

Rhyder’s eyes seemed to blaze into mine, and I was trembling so hard I couldn’t even stand up.

The Enforcer stalked around him with the long thick cane, as if looking for the best place to hurt my brother.

There weren’t a lot of options. My brother was built like a tank.

The first blow fell across his shoulders with sickening force that would have sent a smaller man face-first into the ground.

But my brother didn’t even flinch.

His jaw was set as his eyes were fixed on me and I recognized the look in them very well.

When Rhyder looked like that, there was no moving him. No changing his mind. He was as strong as a bull and as stubborn as one too.

The next blow came down on his shoulders, the Enforcer grunting with his clear attempt to punish my brother.

“You’ve always been a bit of a psycho fucker about your sister, haven’t you?” Eli asked.

Rhyder said nothing.

I wished I could say I didn’t know my twin after all this time, that I had no idea what was going through his head.

But one look into his eyes confirmed it.

He hadn’t changed

My brother was single-minded, stubborn, and absolutely ruthless when it came to getting what he wanted.

And if he wanted the right to have me as his exclusive whore.

He’d do whatever he needed to.

“Arms on your bike,” Eli said.

Rhyder stretched his big arms across the space to his motorcycle, the tattooed lines of Holy Writ curving around him with dangerous power.

The cane came down on those solid bands of muscle, a hard punitive blow.

Eli was a big man, too, and he was putting every ounce of musclehehad into caning my brother.

Big welts rose on the thick bands of Rhyder’s arms.

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