Page 147 of Deceit

“Oh, the pleasure is all mine!” he says before I hear a door shut.

“Fucking piece of shit,” Ronan grumbles under his breath, lowering it to a whisper as he speaks. “You okay?”

I nod, not speaking as we come to a stop.

“Okay. We’re here. We will wait until someone comes to get us. Are you ready?”

Shaking my head no, I do my best to hold down the nerves buzzing inside me. God, part of me wishes I could keep my blindfold on the whole time. It would be easier to disassociate at least.

Unfortunately for me, the sound of a door snicks open, before a voice I don’t recognize says, “They are ready for her.”

Chapter Fifty

Skyla

Following Ronan’s steps I pause when he stops me, his fingers going to the back of the blindfold. As soon as he unties it, it’s like I can finally see for the first time in years. The room is dimly lit, only by torches lining the cobblestone walls. Men surround the perimeter, the older ones in deep burgundy cloaked robes, while the guys who attend Gallows Hill wear crisp white dress shirts and black dress pants.

It only takes me half a second to find Vincent and then Liam just a little further down. Liam is standing in front of his father, as Vincent is standing alone. Dane and Jeremy are here as well as Andrew Hutchinson and a few others. Andrew’s face in particular twists up in sadness and sympathy as he looks at me. I’m not sure what he’s doing in the Brethren, he seems much too soft, too kind.

Liam is watching me with a blank face, but his eyes are filled with pain. I flick my gaze to Vincent as casually as I can manage, to see his stoic face looking more murderous than anything. I look away from them quickly, trying not to gain any unnecessary attention as my eyes find my father and Asher’s father next.

Christopher smiles as he holds out his hands, the robe sleeves hanging off his arms by several inches.

“Welcome, Skyla. What a glorious night it is.”

I do my best to give him a convincing smile, dipping my head down in obedience. A few approving murmurs sound through the room, and that at least helps make me feel like I’m doing something right.

“Please, lie down,” Christopher says as he gestures towards a stone slab in the middle of the room.

How did I not notice this first?

With shaky steps, I make my way to the stone, slowly laying down on top of it as I do. My head looks behind me and notices a large golden mirror. The frame is ornate and large, going almost all the way to the ceiling and being at least six-feet-wide. It’s positioned so me and the slab are perfectly centered.

Wouldn’t want anyone to miss the view, I suppose.

Revulsion rolls through me as the doors open once more. This time, Asher is the one to step inside. As opposed to the rest of them, he is wearing a white robe. His face is blank, posture stiff as he comes to stand before me. He doesn’t look at me, though. His eyes are on his father, and I do my best to fix my eyes on the ceiling. There are so many cobblestone bricks, maybe I could count them and when I’m done, it’ll hopefully be over.

“Asher Putnam, you are brought here today to solidify your place in the Brethren and strengthen your family’s legacy. In taking a bride, you secure the ability for an heir and strengthen our bonds. Stronger together, immeasurable as one.”

“Maleficis esse mori,” Asher responds.

What is that? Latin? He speaks Latin?

“Maleficis esse mori,” all the other men in the room chant as one.

It startles me, but I don’t let it show before Asher turns to me, someone stepping forward with a wooden box. He lifts up myright hand, pulling out an old looking dagger from the box before dragging the tip against my palm. His eyes don’t meet mine which somehow makes this worse. If he’d just look at me, maybe I wouldn’t feel as terrified. I knew this part was coming, Ronan told me it would. Doesn’t make it any less painful.

My eyes squint softly, as I try to hold in my pain while another man steps forward with a large book, smearing my bloody handprint across it before setting my hand by my side. It’s still bleeding heavily, but no one seems to be too concerned with it as a third man steps forward, a red hot iron brand in hand. He hands the material covered handle to Asher and finally, he meets my eyes.

His face is hard and emotionless, but his eyes give me an apologetic gleam before he’s pressing the brand into my other palm. I can’t hold back my screams for this one. My lips are smashed together to muffle the sound, but it doesn't make it quieter.

“Mmmmhmmm aghhhh!” I grumble and shout, my head turning to see Vincent take a step forward. I didn’t notice until now that Ronan has taken up a place behind him, his hand on Vincent’s shoulder in a casual way, though I can tell that it’s really so he can hold him in place.

The searing pain doesn’t ebb unfortunately, the smell of my flesh burning fills the room, a smell so foul I want nothing more than to gag. Amazingly, I keep it together, as both palms are now screaming at me in displeasure.

Asher pulls the brand away, handing it back to the man before his fingers grip my dress. I expect him to get to work on the buttons, but he wastes no time, grabbing the top hemline and ripping hard. The buttons give free easily, scattering all around me, and falling to the ground until the robe is completely ripped open. My breasts spill free, and my eyes flick to see Liam’s jaw set painfully tight, while Vincent looks on the edge of losing it.Ronan leans down to whisper something into his ear that seems to calm him down.

God, I wish they didn’t have to see this. I wish I didn’t have to live it.

---