Page 76 of Spark of Madness

They were all eager to see their sister perform well in service, to see the flesh of a real-life man rather than just the mannequins built for our practice—all because they’d been taught this was good, that it was wonderful, that it was Godly to kneel and serve the men of our community.

I’d searched the room, hoping my eyes would land on a single girl showing any attitude other than enthusiasm. I’d found no one—only me.

I’d wondered what was wrong with me, whether I was possessed or born from hell. I’d wondered how I could become better and whether I would ever be able to find joy in service. I’d tortured myself, wondering why I couldn’t just be like everyone else.

The man at the front of the room revealed himself, sending a ripple of nervous whispers through the classroom. It had sent a ripple of nausea, stress, and fear through me. Then anger flushed out the anxiety, and it took hold of me. It possessed me, and I shoved to my feet.

“How can you be doing this now?” I’d demanded as the room fell into abrupt silence. “There is no full moon. You’re only meant to purge on a full moon.”

I recall the way the man stared me down with heat and fury, and the way it made me want to shrink away. But it had been the look Cambria gave me that filled me with guilt. Her look was one of annoyance, a pointed reminder that I should be quiet—and I’d known the look well. Truthfully, I wondered almost daily back then why Cambria and Ellary had remained friends with me given all the times I’d gotten myself into trouble.

“Come here,” the man demanded of me, and the silent room held stagnant.

I hadn’t dared a glance at my teachers. I didn’t need further direction—a member of the Control had given me a command, and I had to obey above anyone else. I’d stepped out from behind my desk and slowly walked to the front of the room.

“Kneel.” His hand was around his jutting erection, holding it out in front of Cambria, and I’d felt terrified at the sight of it. “Put your hand at the back of her head,” he said to me, “and hold her in place. She’ll want to pull away when I gag her, but she must learn to stay in place, all in the name of pleasure for the man.” He looked down at Cambria. “You want to learn to do it properly, don’t you?”

Cambria nodded eagerly. “Yes, of course.”

“Good.” He looked to me once again. “You. Do what you’re told or face consequences by my authority in Ember Glen.”

Rebellion had leaked through the odd mixture of fear and anger flowing through my veins. If he’d cut me open just then, I would’ve bled with dissent-tainted blood. I wasn’t going to lay a hand on Cambria to help this man touch her with that monstrous appendage.

“No,” I told him boldly.

And in an instant, I was overcome.

The Control encircled us, lifted me from the floor, and carried me outside. While Cambria was left kneeling in the classroom to demonstrate her knowledge of oral pleasure, five men stood shoulder to shoulder and surrounded me as the sixth took my virginity outside. He fucked me against the outside wall of the school building until I bled.

That was the day I learned to keep my mouth shut.

That was the day I learned it was best to kneel.

That event, and too many others that followed, helped tame the rebellious spirit within me before I officially began service at sixteen. But over the years since then, that rebellious spirit has grown bigger without me realizing it. She grew so big that she burst at the sight of Hyatt Price and his torch chasing after her beneath the full moon, and her return made me run, made me sin.

It’s not a sin.

I’m not a sinner.

Regardless, I want this preparation. I don’t want to go into these trials blindly. I want to know what to expect. I want to know what it’s going to feel like to be bound by Arlo Rainn.

My pulse quickens as he turns toward me, and I step forward, gripping my skirt at my knees and lifting it so I can bend. I kneel at the center of the blanket, and though the fleece fabric is soft against my skin, the hard rock beneath is instantly painful. Arlo steps in front of me, and I cast a sideways glance to observe Delle watching Theo step toward her all the same. Her eyes are downcast, palms pressed to her thighs as she takes in shallow breaths.

“It’s okay, Delle,” I murmur. “I’m right here with you.”

She glances at me, nodding with a weak smile before taking in a steadying breath. I return my attention to Arlo and the aching rhythm of my heart. Stepping closer, he drops the rope beside my knees, then works to roll up his shirt sleeves.

“We’ll start simple,” Arlo says as he exposes his forearms, taut tendons drawing lines to his hands. “You’ll be suspended for the trial, but we’ll work our way up to that.”

I lift my chin to look up at him. “You took off your gloves.”

His head is still dipped as he works on his sleeve, but his eyes raise for a moment, meeting mine from beneath his lashes. The fleeting moment of connection is intense, swarming my insides with a flurry of butterflies’ wings.

He doesn’t offer an explanation for why he took off his gloves, though I can guess it’s because they restrict his dexterity in tying rope. I wish he would speak because the way he holds my gaze without a word as he rolls his sleeve is overwhelming.

I swallow anxiously and blink, dragging my eyes from his stare before taking a deep, steeling breath. I rub my palms over my thighs, looking down at my hands as though they’re interesting enough to steal my attention.

Nothing is interesting enough to steal my attention from Arlo.

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