Page 6 of Twisted Truths
Not that Seraphina will allow me to become his Chosen.
“Trista White.” Guardian Solomon’s voice rings out with reverence, pulling me from my thoughts. “The deities have spoken, and you have been Chosen for the Awakening. Come join me, child, and accept your fate.”
There’s a shuffling of feet to my right, but I don’t raise my head. I’m terrified of what I’ll see in her eyes, and unsure I’ll be able to hide what’s in mine. For Trista, there is no escape. Her time has come.
“No!” A male voice pierces through the room, and my head jerks up in shock. To the left of me, a dark-haired guy about my age is on his feet, hands fisted by his sides as he stares at the girl at the front of the room. “Trista, no.” His last plea is guttural.
My eyes move to Trista, who has tears streaming down her face.
Aziah’s dark eyes flash with anger, but Guardian Solomon’s face remains impassively calm as he clicks his fingers. Two of his trusted sentinels step forward to drag the young man out of the room. He continues to call out for Trista, and while tears still streak her face, she keeps her gaze trained on the ground as Guardian Solomon approaches her.
“My child,” he says in a soothing tone, but it’s hard not to miss the undeniable edge that speaks to his power. Trista trembles as he tilts her chin until she’s looking at him. “It is unfortunate that I must ask this of you, and I want you to answer with honesty in your mouth and divine light in your heart. Are you still pure?”
Trista swallows hard before answering. “Y-yes, Guardian Solomon.”
He frowns, studying her face. “You understand theconsequences should Aziah find you to be untruthful in this declaration?”
It’s against the rules for the congregation to fraternise with each other before the Chosen females are Awakened. Should they be found to be impure, they will be cast out.
“Yes, Guardian Solomon.” The whispered response carries like an echo through the silent chapel.
Our leader flicks his gaze to his son, who gives a sharp nod.
“Very well.” He turns back to address the congregation, but my gaze remains firmly set on Seraphina, who has stepped forward to place a woven veil over Trista’s pale face.
“Trista White, may you be blessed with the Awakening. As the veil of purity falls, a new dawn shall arise. You are the vessel through which the Light will pass, the whisper of the divine in flesh. You, who carry the essence of the Circle, shall guide them in ways unseen, nurturing the growth of those who are yet to come. May your journey lead them to their purpose.”
“As the fire rekindles, you shall Awaken and carry the essence of the Circle,” we respond in unison without missing a beat.
Guardian Solomon holds out his hand to Seraphina, and the two of them lead the way down the middle aisle as Aziah repeats the gesture for his new Chosen. Once they leave the chapel, we file out silently, row after row, and head back to our dwellings.
I share a modest three-bedroom cabin with three other women my age—Brielle, Samantha, and Gianna—and our overseer, Ascendant Sierra. No one dares say a word about what happened at the awakening as we return to our rooms.
No one knows.
I am safe.
Chapter Three
NASH
The sun has barely risen when I climb out of bed and dress in my running gear, earlier than is reasonable after tossing and turning all night in the spare room at Levi’s place. The house is quiet, so I close the door softly as I let myself outside, not wanting to wake my sister-in-law or my niece, who I heard fussing a couple of times during the night.
After stretching on the front lawn, I take off down the street in a slow jog. When I hit the main road, I settle into a comfortable cadence. There’s no traffic, with the entire town still fast asleep. I have no path in mind, but I’m not surprised when I turn down the dead-end road that leads to the Sunfire Circle commune.
Despite being the end of winter, sweat drips down my body as my feet propel me down the long stretch of road, the commune’s orchards growing on either side throwing shadows over the gravel. What they don’t keep for themselves, they sell in town at the market held on the last Sunday of the month.
My hands fist at my sides, but I tamp down my anger,knowing it won’t do me any good to go off half-cocked. My footsteps slow as I reach the edge of the commune where tea trees and silver oaks surround the property. When I come to a stop at the fence, I can just make out some cabins. People are moving about, but none dare to speak.
I grit my teeth at the idea of Ziggy following along with these mindless sheep. What the hell was she thinking? My sister may not have been academic, but she was still whip-smart and knew how to think for herself. How the hell did she get caught up with these people?
Safe on this side of the fence, I hide behind the foliage and watch as Solomon’s herd go about their morning. There are more women than men. In fact, in the few minutes I’ve been standing here, I’ve only seen about eight men and at least twenty women. No children.
The door to the cabin closest to me opens, and I shrink down as a young, auburn-haired woman dressed in a loose white shirt and tan linen pants steps out. My breath hitches at her understated, effortless beauty. She pauses, her head turning in my direction.
I inhale sharply, waiting for her shout to alert someone that she saw me. When it doesn’t come, I risk another peek, only to see her shake her head slightly before someone else appears behind her.
The brunette says something, but they’re too far away for me to hear anything but a low murmur of voices as the auburn-haired woman shakes her head again. They head farther into the commune, another brunette and a blonde trailing behind them.
