Page 3 of Obsession

He’s the revered elder. The leader. The anointed one. His Excellence. John Tobias, a man old enough to be my grandfather, is ordained to be my husband.

Strong hands grip my shoulders. “I’m not going to let it happen.”

“There’s nowhere we can hide that they won’t find us. Who in the village will keep us safe? Not one person will betray their covenant with God. Everyone will see it as me abandoning God. I’ll become a heretic. A scarlet. They will see you as a perversion, a man who lusts after his kin.”

“I’m not your brother, Maggie. You aren’t my blood.”

“It doesn’t matter. We were raised together. They’ll burn me and hang you.”

Hans holds firm to my shoulders, his eyes burning with determination while my heart beats with fear. “We aren’t going to let them decide our lives. We’re leaving.”

CHAPTER 2

Hans

We climb through the small window, barely getting out without a scrape or a cut from the rusted nails on the peeling wood frame, and run into the wild unknown of the woods.

I don’t know how long we run before Margarete tugs at my arm, forcing me to turn toward her. “There’s nowhere to go, Hans.”

Her breath hitches as I pull my arm from her touch. “No, Margarete.” I cup her face and touch my forehead to hers. “They didn’t want us to know there was a way out, but there is. I promise it’s not much further.”

She stares into the night, hesitation and regret visible on her face.

“The woods are safer, Margarete.”

She freezes at the thought of entering the demonic lair. Our mothers told us not to go into the woods. They said it was where evil lived—the devil who stole their sisters. From a young age, the females were told about the demon who tempted pious girls and turned them into jezebels of the dark.

Her words are shaky. “I don’t want to damn myself by losing my faith.”

Margarete and I have already broken our vows by loving each other. There’s no going back because, according to The Covenant, we’re despicable sinners.

“I think we’re far past that, don’t you?”

“I know we already broke the rules, but that was different. We can ask forgiveness for our infraction, but if we abandon our faith, our people, there will be no coming back.”

“Why would we want to come back?” I sigh and grab her hands. “Faith is a spectrum. Loving God is not an all-or-nothing concept. I refuse to believe that someone who is supposed to be loving and kind would force his daughters to live a life of subjugation.” Her breath hitches as I tuck her hair behind her ear. “I don’t know much, and I’m not sure of a lot, but I know that no good divine power would want you to be his. I wouldn’t love you the way I do if that were the plan. God isn’t cruel, Margarete. He can’t be.”

I place a gentle kiss on her forehead before tossing her satchel across my shoulder and tugging her hand.

“I’m scared of what will happen to us out there.” Her words are a whisper, barely audible, but they might as well be a thunderous roar in my ears.

“And I’m terrified of what will happen to us if we stay.”

Margarete nods. “We can’t make it by foot, Hans. They’ll catch us.”

I pull her further into the darkness. “We aren’t walking.”

CHAPTER 3

Xander

Johannes Adir, son of Elder Gabriel Adir and a man destined to lead The Covenant one day, has made a pact with the devil and is now fleeing into the dark to save Margarete Donaldson’s life.

My mother cautioned me about the allure of the women from The Covenant, their beauty rumored to be a symbol of virtue and piousness. Yet their outward display of righteousness is a facade, masking a callous willingness to wreck lives to protect the nightmarish secrets of their cult. These women are brought forth to the masses to proclaim The Covenant as a place of holy prayer and devotion to God. These women preen about the sanctity of love and mercy. And these women sit silent and watch the mistreatment of their sisters, willing to sacrifice them repeatedly based on the word of deceitful and demonic men. The Covenant’s victims, stripped of their defenses, become easy targets for those who use religion to mask their wickedness and ignore zealots to line their pockets.

It doesn’t matter what the survivors tell the authorities if they’re lucky enough to escape. Those placed in positions of power never listen to the cries of these victims. As long as the donationspour into the pockets of the rich, they look the other way. What are the lives of children worth to these men and women? What monetary amount makes a politician ignore abuse? A thousand? Ten? A million?

Too bad for The Covenant that women they shamed, shunned, and slandered survived to give birth to men like me, ready and willing to fight. But I never expected to find myself trapped between two siblings on a path of wreckage.

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