Page 81 of Tell Me Why
“That was—” amistake “—different.”
His body is close, shielding me from the wind that sweeps off the surface of the ocean and cuts through the thick cloak. He lifts my mask and holds the chalice to my lips, tilting it up. “Drink. For me. This is all about building trust.”
“What is it?” I ask, but it’s too late. The liquid is already touching my lips, and when I spoke, I accidentally swallowed a little. I expected wine, but whatever it is, it’s a synthetic orange flavor, sweet with a little tang at the end.
“Don’t worry, it’s harmless,” he says, his hand pushing past my robe to settle on my stomach. Even through the fabric of my dress, his hand is warm. When he pulls his hand and the chalice away, I notice he doesn’t take a sip. Maybe he already has.
Almost immediately, I start feeling dizzy, my vision blurring. I blink up at Christian, his mask weaving in and out of focus. What the fuck did he just give me? I should probably panic, but I can’t seem to drum up the feeling. There’s a warmth spreading throughout my body, actually, and I don’t hate it.
With a deep, calming breath, I glance around. No one else seems to be reacting to their drink. In fact, they’re not doing anything at all. They’re all standing motionless in their dark robes, a forest of masked faces watching my every move with a weird hive-like focus.
“What..?” My mouth is suddenly dry, and I swallow, but that doesn’t help. “...is happening?”
My body feels like it’s been weighted down with a sack of stones, and I sway. Christian catches me, and I rest my heavy head against his warm chest.
“Before the festivities can begin, we have one last item of business…” he calls out, each word a rumble against my cheek. My eyes drift closed, the warmth of his body lulling me into a blissful feeling of contentment. “Tonight, we initiate Eve Savano into The Burning Crown.”
I hear the words, but it takes a second for my scrambled brain to make sense of them.Tonight, we initiate Eve Savano…
What?
My eyes fly open, and I push against Christian’s chest, stumbling back over the uneven sand. Christian is right there to catch me. “What is this?” I ask.
“Don’t worry, baby. I’ve got you,” he whispers.
My head rolls back on my shoulders, and Christian eases me down onto a blanket that’s stretched across the sand. Then I feel his warm hands on my thighs, pushing my skirt up, bunching at my waist.
“Evangeline Savano,” he says. “You come before us with the desire to become a child of the Society of the Burning Crown.”
My mask is uncomfortable, so I pull it all the way off. “No.”
He continues on, like I haven’t said anything, “You come of your own free will.”
“No,” I say, more forceful this time.
Again, no acknowledgement of my denial. “You agree to serve the order, to do whatever it requires of you without question or hesitation,” he says.
“Idon’tagree.” Can he even hear me? Are my words coming out slurred? Does henotunderstand what I’m saying? What the fuck is happening?
“You will now be given the opportunity to show your willingness to submit to the order. You may halt the ceremony at any point, but in doing so, you will be escorted off the premises and forbidden to enter forevermore…”
That sounds great, actually. Twisting on the blanket, I try to sit up, but the weight of my body drags me back down. “I don’t want this…” My voice is weak, faint.
He’s kneeling down beside me, his hand on my face, forcing me to look at him. “You need to affirm,” he says softly.
I try to shake my head again, but he’s holding my face. “No…”
Cold metal touches my lips, followed by the taste of that distinctive orange-flavored drink. “Drink deeply from the chalice of knowledge.”
I cough as more of that awful liquid slides down my throat, and Christian helps me up slightly, elevating my head. But once the coughing subsides, he lays me down again. I suddenly feelsotired, and the world around me bleeds together like neon watercolors on a black canvas.
“This paddle represents the adversity you will endure…” His words fade further and further away, until they’re nothing but an echo at the end of a very dark tunnel.
A flash of pain lashes across my bare thighs, but I’m too out of it to even flinch, my mind registering the pain through a dense fog of numb detachment.
But somewhere in the dark corners of my mind, I know what’s happening, and I wonder—is it my soul or my will that Christian is determined to break tonight? Maybe it’s both…
CHAPTERTHIRTY-FOUR
