Page 105 of Prodigal Son

He reached for her and she shoved him away. “Don’t touch me!”

“You’re upset because it feels like I betrayed you—”

“You did betray me! You lied! About everything.” She swiped away more tears. “I fell for you! I fell for all of it. I actually considered what it might be like to…” She sniffled. “I’m an idiot.” Her head shook as her face crumpled in disbelief. “Here I thought being Amish was the compromise.”

Would she have stayed? It was a cruel realization to learn she might have cared that much. But her intentions were irrelevant. “Even if you wanted to stay, it doesn’t work that way.”

Time passed differently for mortals, as their time was precious and non-renewable. Even if staying had been an option, he would outlive her, and eventually say goodbye. Cybil was but a cruel reminder of what happened when immortals tampered with God’s law.

“Only true mates can transition. If they’re not chosen by God, then it doesn’t work.”

She sniffled and looked up at him. The flash of hope in her eyes gutted him. “Well, maybe we are—”

“Every male only has one mate.” He shook his head. “You’re not mine.”

“How can you be so sure?”

To think her affection was not fully lost—but he would not be able to leave her until every bit was destroyed. For her own protection and his, he needed to see her hope irrevocably ruined until no sense of fondness stood the chance of redemption.

“Because Annalise is my mate.”

“But she’s married to your brother.” The truth struck like a bullet as always. She scoffed and shook her head in disbelief. “The baby…”

“The child is Adam’s. Our situation is complicated, but my life is tied to hers. It’s why I can’t leave the farm and why I needed your blood to heal. The other day, when I was ill, it was her labor pains that struck me down. Just as the arrow you aimed at my heart punctured Anna’s as well. Our souls are linked in agony, while Adam’s soul is tied to her joy. She and I share suffering, I hers and she mine. One of God’s cruel tricks.”

After that confession, she completely detached. He tried to console her, but she screamed at him to leave her alone in her misery. “Just stop! I don’t want to know this or you, anymore. I want to go home. Just stay away! Get away from me!” she screamed.

She wanted Vito and only to leave. Sobbing at the injustice of love, she cursed her tender heart and blamed him for her pain. His deceit was a betrayal she could not process.

The bishop arrived and took over her mind. Destiny settled into a subdued trance, as Gracie fed her enough blood to heal her wounds. Then Cain had to walk away.

He didn’t have the strength to watch her memories disappear.

The bishop took pity on him. “It’s better this way, Cain.”

He placed a gentle hand on his back and Cain scowled. “Nothing about this is better.”

“In time—”

“Don’t talk to me about things you can’t understand, Eleazar.” Despite the bishop’s recent mating to Larissa, Cain had lost too much for any ordinary immortal to comprehend. Fate had taken so much of his soul, only a hollow void remained where his heart once was.

“You should go.” A sense of duty replaced the bishop’s compassion. “Any sight of you could trigger the return of memories, and this goodbye must be final.”

Cain looked back at Destiny one last time, but her gaze was unfocused and her expression flat. Head down, he turned his back on her and walked away. When he returned to the house that evening, all traces of her and her brother were gone. It was for the best.

The days that followed were wrought with accusation and grief. Dane blamed him and had every right to. Cain blamed himself most of all.

Looking at Cybil now, he wondered how he could have been so ignorant. The innocent girl was gone. In her place, a twisted mind and a vacant soul.

The crunch of sand and gravel underfoot had him scanning the long corridor. Oil lamps cast shadows along the stone walls, making it difficult to see. He sniffed the air. Male. Shutting his eyes, his senses identified David, the bishop’s right hand, approaching.

Aged iron bars reinforced with steel bulkheads, sank into the solid earth, buried several feet below the surface. Solid stone and concrete lined the cells to ensure no prisoner could escape.

Cybil’s hearing and sensory had increased to that of an immortal’s and she now snapped to attention when even an insect skittered past. She gained speed and perception, and retained some measure of life, but her humanity was lost.

She shifted to her knees, her eyes alert and agitated and her neck stretched to see down the hall. Each cell contained a straw mattress. Other items were brought in daily for washing, but Cybil didn’t care for such things and had a habit of smashing anything breakable or using it as a projectile weapon.

She despised captivity and showed little more than rage since they locked her away, attacking several powerful immortals when they transported her. Transitioned as she was, she had the strength of a newborn but the explosiveness of gunpowder. Her innocence was gone, replaced with something mercurial and dangerous.

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