Page 39 of Prodigal Son

And now they were even. Eleazar despised that Cain knew the secret location where he buried Larissa’s abusive ex-husband alive. But the bishop now knew that Destiny shot Cain in the heart, thereby endangering the life of Annalise and the baby. Adam would be within his rights to seek justice if he found out, and Cain couldn’t let that happen. If he wanted to protect Destiny, such information must remain a secret. He had no choice but to do as The Elder commanded.

“How long do I have?”

“Until dawn.”

He glanced at Destiny. She stood in a waking coma, no light in her flat brown eyes and no animation to her pretty face. “She’ll be fine after that? Back to normal?” She was annoying, but she had a right to be however she wanted. He worried such overwhelming control of her mind might have lingering effects.

“She’ll be just as she was.”

“She needs clothes.”

Eleazar glanced at his wife. “Larissa, find her something appropriate to wear.” She left the room to find her clothing and the bishop looked at him. “Put your attraction aside for this one, Cain.”

He drew back. “There is no attraction.”

Eleazar cocked a dark brow. “The subconscious is often more honest than our words. Your thoughts are unguarded around her, and that’s dangerous. For the sake of your family, take closer care of yourself.”

CHAPTER 14

A cold tingle raced up Cybil’s neck as her breath clouded in vapor in front of her. All familiar surroundings faded away, replaced with dark, endless shadows.

It was always the same place, but each time was a little different. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to slow her breathing, not wanting him to hear her. A low purr crept closer, and she held her breath. She could sense the dripping saliva on his fangs and feel the weight of his stare. Without ever really looking at him, she knew every detail from the jagged edges of his claws to the silver glint hidden in his blood-red eyes.

When they were here, she recognized him more than she recognized herself. Her body was not her own here. She was older, different, but still a scared little girl inside.

She trembled, huddled on the ground with her arms wrapped protectively around her knees. A potent discomfort filled her belly as he moved closer. She wasn’t sure what held him back when it was clear he wanted to consume her. His hunger beat at her, and she whimpered with fear.

Her life was his decision. She had no power here. But he never touched her. It was as if he recognized something delicate and innocent inside of her that needed to mature, something he craved so deeply she hoped she’d never grow up. He saw her fragility and protected her, even when the enemy she needed protecting from was himself.

She sucked in a breath, and he stilled. She wiped her eyes, silently praying he’d go away. He didn’t intentionally scare her but sensed she feared him. He didn’t like her fear. It angered him, which only made her more afraid. But deep down, no matter how unsafe she felt, she believed he wouldn’t hurt her. He always placed her safety above his own.

He only came to her at night, in the dark, beneath a moonless sky. She looked different here. Her baby-fine hair was fuller and her body thicker. She sometimes caught glimpses of flesh, blood, teeth, entwined limbs, and writhing bodies entangled in ways she didn’t understand. Ugly flashes she didn’t want to see. And those glowing eyes…

Her breath came fast when the images wouldn’t stop. They weren’t spontaneous chaos, they were prophetic visions of a far-off, inevitable future she dreaded.

He hushed her, wanting to come closer, but she cowered further away. She wasn’t ready. Not yet. His impatient growl echoed in her ears, but he backed off all the same.

He never spoke to her, but she heard his voice in her mind. “When you recognize what I am to you, you will say my name...”

Cybil bolted upright, heart pounding as she awoke, tucked safely in her bed. Shoving away the blankets, she looked down at her small hands and knobby knees, finding great comfort in her familiar childish build.

She wanted to scream as recollections bombarded her, even if just to whisper that it was only a dream, but worry kept her silent. She would not utter a sound for fear of accidentally speaking his name.

Curling into her body, she burrowed under the covers and stared at the plain walls. There was no distraction from her thoughts, and she couldn’t stop thinking about her nightmare.

Her labored breath disrupted the silent house as her stare darted to every corner of the dark bedroom, tears slowly gathering along the curve of her nose.

She was alone. It was only a dream. Another nightmare. So why didn’t she feel safe? She felt like he could still reach her.

She shut her eyes and tried to imagine anything else. The farm animals. The barn kittens. The cake she helped Gracie make that evening. Cain’s face filled her mind, and she smiled as she wept, remembering his deep laugh and the way he lifted her through the air the day he returned.

Dane used to play with her like that, but hadn’t since their mom died.

She shoved the thought away. Nothing had been the same since that night in the woods, and she wished she could go back. At the same time, she wanted to forget the past, but it kept haunting her.

Unable to fall back to sleep, she wiped her nose on the sleeve of her nightgown and slipped out of bed. Her bare feet touched the cool floor then she quietly padded into the hall, pausing at Dane’s room. One bony foot poked out from the covers and his mouth was open as he snored.

She went to the kitchen where the wood stove still burned, and she slid her feet into her loose boots, not bothering to tie the laces. Her black cloak hung from a low peg by the door and she wrapped the heavy wool over her shoulders. Silently, she unlatched the front door and raced down the walk.

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