Page 104 of XXXVII: The Elite

Resisting the urge to cover my body, I keep my hands behind my back and make sure I’m not slouching. I’m past the point where embarrassment could be an issue.

Instead of walking towards a recess, the three figures walk single file up onto the altar in front of me.

That tells me what their purpose is then.

Now they’re in front of me, I’m certain they’re all guys though. They’re all tall, and although one is slimmer than the other two, they don’t feel like the build of a female—at least not one of the members of the Elite.

“On your knees.”

The voice belongs to the guy on the right, and I instantly recognize it: Royal.

Which means the other two are Gemini and… Syn?

Synclair Keyingham?

The guy who hates me?

Atnopoint have I ever considered that Syn would come near me like this.

My surprise seems to wipe my brain, and it takes a moment for me to realize that I’ve been given an instruction. I lower myself down onto my knees and look up at the figures in front of me. From this angle, I can make out Syn’s chin.

“I was wrong when I called you a worm,” the middle figure says, confirming my prediction that it’s Syn. “Worms stay hidden. But begging for attention is what dogs do. The question is, are you an obedient dog, or will you require putting down?”

The way the robes fall over them hides everything from the neck down, but Syn moves forward, lifting his hand. As it frees from the fabric, I see there’s something in his grip, but by then, he’s moved behind me.

My heart is racing with him being behind me, but I don’t turn my head.

There’s a flash of black, and I realize it’s a collar. Before he can wrap it around my neck, I grab my hair, pulling it out of the way. The movement makes him hesitate, and then the collar is around my neck, and he’s buckling it up.

It’s tight, like a choker, but it’s not uncomfortable. Just as I think he’s done, his hands are back on the back of the collar, and I hear the smallest of clicks.

As Syn walks back to join Royal and Gemini, I let go of my hair and grab the collar. There’s a small padlock on the back.

“The collar does not come off unless one of us unlocks it.”

Strangely,thishas heat flooding my cheeks.

“Now, come over here.”

Syn doesn’t need to tell me not to stand. I already know if I try to get up, he’s just going to yell at me or worse. So, I lower my hands to the ground and crawl over on all fours, stopping just in front of him. I sit back onto my heels and stare up at them.

As I look up, the three of them pull back their hoods, revealing their masks. Last time, they were cream and gold. This time, they’re black and silver. Although they cover most of their faces, I can still tell who is behind them, even if I hadn’t heard them speak.

Syn holds out his right hand. From the depths of his robes, Royal pulls out a bottle and hands it to Syn. The bottle is clear and decorative with no label, like the liquid inside. Without taking his eyes off me, Syn unscrews the lid. “Open your mouth.”

Tilting my head back, I do as he asks.

The bottle is raised above my head and then Syn slowly pours it into my mouth, not caring that he’s splashing my face or that it’s running down my cheeks and dripping all over my chest.

Tequila.

Ihatetequila.

But it doesn’t stop me from swallowing.

Three or four healthy shots later, Syn stops and hands the bottle back to Royal. My head is spinning already, but I watch as he holds out his other hand. This time, whatever Gemini gives him, I can’t see.

With a smile that isn’t fully hidden behind his mask, Syn leans forward and grabs my throat, forcing my head back further. He doesn’t grip me hard enough to stop me breathing, and strangely, I’m certain my heart isn’t racing through fear.

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