Page 24 of The Order: Rise of the New Empire

Disappointing Elyon is the last thing I want to do.

Giving him any reason to question my fealty is the one thing I have tried to avoid these past nine months.

"The only thing that could disappoint me, Forest, is a lack of trust between us. Your fear should reside in breaking my trust, nothing else," he says, something malicious lingering in his words.

Walking side by side, I grab his arm for support, feeling an oncoming wave of vertigo hit me. My step is misplaced every so often due to the sudden wave of disorientation.

"Still dehydrated?" he questions, eyeing me down like a small child.

Nodding, all I can do is agree.

For the past few days, spells of vertigo have come over me, making it impossible to predict when they may flare up. Taking a few seconds to compose myself, I continue, looking at the trail of bloodied footprints in the path behind us.

"I need you to figure out whatever has been going on with you, the last thing we need is either of us showing any weakness, especially now. Our control has managed to take grasp, spreading through the fear we have inflicted. If all goes according to plan, we will have authority in every single one of Sanctum's hubs, giving us all the resources needed to flush out the compounds and any strangling Marked or Revolutionists creeping in the shadows. Word of our presence has already had an impact. The last thing either of us needs is you suddenly so weak that others notice."

Letting go of my grip on Elyon's arm, I pull my shoulders back.

"I am the farthest thing from weak, Elyon Morgan. Do not be foolish enough to mistake the glimpse of humanity you have seen in me as weakness. That would make you one of the most foolish bastards there is," I snap, forcing more reassurance into Elyon's already constantly shifting thoughts.

"I never said you were weak. Though, everyone is subject to create their own shortcomings," he says, the outlines of our men in the alleyway becoming clearer the closer we approach.

We have already chased the Revolutionists out of New Haven, leaving nothing but the Marked slaves to serve at our will. They funnel us power and serve us with the snap of our fingers.

Whispers have begun of an underground division being created by those Revolutionists willing to test our authority.

Still, none of the whispers are loud enough to get an exact idea on where the Revolutionists would be foolish enough to set up an establishment.

As far as Elyon sees it, wiping out the Marked is the first step in creating a new divine breed, one easily manipulated by his hand, void of free will. Without me, there's no way to enact that dream without procreation. If it weren't for the power I hold in creating Marked, I often wonder how that night at the ball would have gone.

"What are you thinking about?" Elyon questions, offering me the opportunity to be honest with him before he has the chance to slip into my mind.

"Will you sire more children in light of the new breed of Marked you are trying to create?" I question, forcing every one of my thoughts to be genuine in regard to that thought pattern. "You are so adamant about flushing out the product of the Marked you once created. Do you not question what having a connection like Dove might mean for you?" I question. His mouth pulls into a straight line.

"I kept you alive, didn't I?" he questions. My nose scrunches at the insinuation he has care for me.

"But you raised Dove," I whisper. "What was different about her?" I question, the answer nagging at me, as much as I wish it wouldn't.

Stepping out of the bleak lighting of the alleyway, our men make a path for us, both of us drawing up our hoods as we walk.

"I suppose it was hard to leave Dove once I saw her mother's pregnancy to completion. It wasn't the first time I had a child,let alone known of their existence, but given how involved I was with Dove's mother during her pregnancy, I gravitated toward her more than most," his nails grind against his palms as he relays such sensitive information. "So many months of that little girl growing in her stomach-"

"Why are you insinuating the pregnancy was lengthier than normal?" I question. His head snaps my way.

"Do you not know how Marked pregnancies work?" Elyon questions. My throat is dry and void of a response.

"Due to the genetic makeup of the Marked, their pregnancies are more prolonged. It takes time to cook up a child with gifts, some having pregnancies that reach well past a year before completion, some not showing until their eleventh month. The longer a pregnancy, it is said, the more traits. In New Haven, with all of their medicine and regulated meals, most of the Marked children's abilities were watered down, making the pregnancies regulate to the traditional nine months. Without the flood of medicine New Haven could provide, a Marked pregnancy could go undetectable for months. Maybe that's why I didn't leave Dove's mother. By the time she was showing, well, I was too fascinated to leave at that point. I had to see it through. Power is possible even in the most unlikely of places," the man smiles, my hand grazing over my torso beneath the cloak.

Don't go there.

There's no way.

There's no fucking way.

One night.

One fucking night we spend together.

It's not possible.

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