Page 108 of Wanted

The Prophet grins at me, and I immediately realize my mistake.

Damn it, I did it again. If only I could bite off my stupid thoughts…

His thumb strokes tenderly against my chin and my stomach twists. “Because that’s exactly where you keep beautiful and valuable treasures.”

Beautiful? Is he saying he thinks I’m beautiful?

The outlines of the Prophet’s black eyes smolder an orangish-red, resembling the edges of burning paper, as he answers, “You are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever beheld. I always knew you would be… even when you were a mere girl.”

I freeze, doing everything I can to keep from reacting to that statement. Not even allowing my brain to form whatever thought it wants to form about it.

“Who do you think sang to you to give you comfort on the day of your Judging?” he purrs, the smoldering parts of his eyes glowing brighter.

He was the one who sang the hymn? And he sang it for me?

I don’t believe it…

His fingers begin to dig painfully into my chin. “I recognized your presence immediately and held you in my arms to ease your fears. I know you felt me.”

I gasp in a mixture of pain and horror.

Jeffrey makes a strangled sound, as if he too is disturbed by what he’s hearing.

The Prophet’s head jerks to the side, and he pulls me closer to his chest as he snarls, “Did I not tell you to stay back?”

Jeffrey tries to say something else, but is instantly cut off. “But Your—”

“Enough!” the Prophet declares sharply. “I will not tolerate another act of disrespectful insubordination! Get on your knees and perform thirty lashes of repentance.”

Shocked that Jeffrey, the golden boy of the Order who always lorded his power and status over me, is being reprimanded for his actions, I dare to look at him to see his reaction.

Jeffrey’s head lowers and he falls down to his knees as if in defeat. Letting all his body weight drop down to the hardwood floor without a care for the pain it will cause.

I find myself wincing in sympathy out of reflex. Even after everything he’s done to me.

The Prophet’s hand suddenly strokes the top of my head, and I almost jump out of his lap in surprise.

“He was warned more than once,” the Prophet says in a gentle tone like he’s trying to reassure me. Then he gives a dismissive flick of his hand. Causing a whip to appear out of thin air in front of Jeffrey. “Begin.”

Head remaining bowed, Jeffrey doesn’t look up as he reaches out and grabs the whip.

With another flick of the Prophet’s hand, Jeffrey’s shirt turns to black ash and scatters around him.

When Jeffrey grips the handle of the whip tightly and lifts it in the air, I immediately turn away.

I convince myself it’s because I’m unable to stomach the sight of him hurting himself when the first crack breaks the silence. But then the sweetest scent I’ve ever smelled perfumes the air, causing my mouth to fill with saliva…

“Since the day you went missing, he’s been denied his sacrament,” the Prophet explains like it’s supposed to make sense to me.

“How long have I been gone?” I ask while avoiding looking at either of them.

Another crack resonates in the air as the Prophet uses his grip on my chin to force me to meet his gaze again. “Do you truly not know?”

Unable to avoid looking him in the eyes, I answer honestly, “No. I have absolutely no idea. To me, it only feels like a day or so.”

The Prophet stares at me for a long time, as if he’s searching my brain to be sure I’m not lying.

With all my thoughts open to him, even if I wanted to deceive him, I couldn’t.

---