Page 13 of This Fate That Guides Us
When the bergamot and rosemary scent finally fades, and my brother forces himself to his knees to seek the Lord’s forgiveness, I have hope this nightmare will end.
I force myself to focus on a point above my father’s shoulder as he speaks. Unwilling to risk my gaze dropping to the mangled mess of my brother’s body for fear I would begin crying.
Confusion fills my mind as the church doors open and the majority of the adult congregation trickles in. I was so focused on avoiding looking at my brother, I didn’t hear Father calling them in.
My hands tremble in my lap as I watch my mother drop to her knees in the puddle of my brother’s blood. She’s the picture of calm acceptance with her head bowed and her body still. I notice she changed from her usual church dress to one dipping low on her back. One Father would say is only for fundraisers.
“Tonight, you witness a second act of repentance. For my son to be born in sin, his mother must have bathed in it while carrying him. Isn’t that right, wife?”
“I beg the Lord’s forgiveness for the sins of my womb,” Mother recites lightly. Her mouth barely moves as she speaks the words, but they carry through the church regardless.
“You will carry the weight of His forgiveness,” my father demands.
Horror steals my breath as my Uncle reappears, carrying a branding iron in his hand. The tip is bright red when he passes it to my father, who immediately presses the burning metal into the skin of Mother’s back. The stench of smoke and burned flesh fills the air, making me choke on a gag. My eyes water as I fight back the tears threatening to spill from them.
“Only through the elimination of the evil designations have brought to our world shall we earn entry into heaven. Through blood and pain, we shall find absolution. Let us pray.”
The rest of his sermon is a blur in my mind. The appalling acts I was forced to watch shattered my ability to think coherently.
When the moon is high in the sky and the house is still with sleep, I slip from my bed and pad silently to my mother’s bedroom. The door creaks slightly as I nudge it open. I may be punished for sneaking in here, but I need to check on her.
“Mother?” I whisper her name when I reach the edge of her bed. She sighs and sits up to turn on the bedside lamp.
“What reason do you have for this late-night disturbance, child?”
“A-are you alright?” I wince when she sneers, but I trudge on. “Your back… They hurt you, momma.” My head is knocked to the side when her palm connects with my cheek. A reprimand for addressing her so comfortably.
“Stupid child. The memory of the pain I felt today will always be carried with me. A reminder of the consequences of our sins. I chose this punishment as penance for the evil I allowed to plague my soul during my pregnancy with your brother. Let what you witnessed this evening be a lesson and move toward the peace your father is going to bring to this world once more.”
“Omen, look at me.” Donovan’s bark forces me out of the memory and back to the present. The room is silent, filled with the sour scent of my distress.
Shelby moves quickly to open a few windows and gets the group concentrated back on their own conversations. I’m thankful for the reprieve from their attention. I can’t handle the looks of concern and pity I always see reflected in their eyes when I start to spiral.
Forcing out a gasping breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, I clench the edge of our couch between my fingers to try to steady myself in the depths of my panic.
“As far as we are aware, neither your parents nor their associates have discovered your identity or location. I’m guessing you haven’t been watching the news?” Donovan asks cautiously.
I shake my head. Following the news outlets made it too easy for me to spiral over the past several years. Too many times I would flip on the television and see my birth father, or one of hisfriends, spreading hatred. It was triggering to hear his venomous messages, even in their voices.
Donovan pulls his cell phone from his pocket and opens up a web browser. Several moments later, he passes the device to me. On the screen is a video of my birth father standing beside Senator Adam Pierson. I can’t hold back a shudder as I press play to start the clip.
I only make it a few words before I have to mute the sound. My hands shake from the anxiety still coursing through my body. “Can you…” I start to ask.
Donovan purrs lightly, the general purr of an alpha soothing any omega. “There’s an article below the video.”
Feeling silly for not realizing reading was an option, I quickly scroll down. The words float through my mind, not fully processing them. None of the information revealed is surprising, yet it still changes everything. Senator Pierson has announced his intention to run for President in the upcoming election using my father’s ideology as backing for his entire campaign.
I swallow down the bile rising in my throat at the prospect. If Pierson were to make it into office… omegas and alphas across the country would be in danger. Even if the Senators from safe states opposed Pierson’s proposed changes, he would use his position to enforce the illegal actions he currently takes behind the scenes. Forcing alphas and omegas to allow men like the vile Doctor Harrison to use them for his experiments on destroying pack bonds and eliminating designation-related biological reactions.
“We have a candidate of our own in the running, and we have high hopes Pierson won’t succeed. However, they plan to start a campaign tour across the East Coast this week. Some of their stops coincide with the locations of the Primordial Covenant tour. Which is why you need a bodyguard. The protests againstthe band close to anti-designation group territories could easily turn volatile with the rising publicity of Pierson’s campaign.”
I nod slowly. Still trying to digest this revelation and what it means for me over the next several weeks.
Raising his voice, Donovan adds, “Bea will also be assigned a bodyguard for the duration of the tour.”
I can hear my best friend's protests and her parents' demands for compliance, but they barely filter through the growing lamentation in my soul. I’m so tired of having my dreams within reach only for Fate to place another obstacle to make them unreachable.
All I want is to be free to live my life as I see fit. Without worrying about my birth family finding me, or men like Doctor Harrison taking my choices from me.
