Page 66 of Be My Sinner

She fixes her gaze on me, and when I subtly shake my head to signal a negative response, she shoots Esther a withering glare, her golden eyes ablaze with fury. “You are her new Sacred Mother, Esther. You must do your duty. It really is quite distressing to see that you have not. Regardless, she needs to be prepared for what is to come.”

Esther rolls her eyes and moves away from us, her shoulders raised up to her ears and her back stiff. “My duty is to my son, who I have raised in the honor and glory of the Brotherhood. If she is unprepared, that is through no fault of my own.”

“Leave, Esther. I will handle the remainder of the tasks, including preparing her mind and soul for what is to happen to her. Anyone who claims to be in the light, but hates a brother or sister, is still in the darkness.”

Sarah walks to the bedroom door and opens it wide, waiting for Esther to walk through it with her golden eyes narrowed and a deep scowl on her face. “Esther, you should reflect on your words, and the coldness in your heart. The Lord would require penance before you attend this holy day.”

Sarah closes the door firmly behind her, her body leaning heavily against the thick ornate wood. She presses her hands to her cheeks and releases a deep sigh. “She wasn’t always like this. She…life has been hard on all of us. Being a…a Sacred Wife can have its…difficulties.”

Sarah moves away from the doorway, her shoulder lifting with a half-shrug, and motions towards the seating area, “Sit, Dinah. We don’t have much time, but I refuse to allow you to go through today blind. Had I been blessed with a daughter, I would want the same for her.”

I move to the chair opposite of hers, truly curious about what she’s going to tell me. It’s not like I don’t know what sex is. Shit, I may not know about orgies and gangbangs personally, but I sincerely doubt that’s what she will discuss with me. She believes I am this sheltered young woman, imprisoned all these years by the Brotherhood. I have no intention of changing her perception if I don’t have to.

“Dinah, during the vows, you will be blessed by the Holy Father, and then you will participate in the blood ritual.” A grimace crosses her face. “Ezekiel will slice his palm open, and then yours and you will join hands. That is the worst part of the ceremony. Everything else requires very little of your participation; just sit there demure and silent, under the veil and mask.”

She shifts restlessly in the chair, her body tensing and her hands fisting in her lap before she rubs them together, as uncomfortable silence fills the room. “She should have told you, wicked woman,” she utters so low that I almost don’t catch the words.

A large sigh leaves her lips. “Regardless, it will be done; may the good Lord grant me strength. Dinah, you will be taken to a back chamber in the cathedral after the ceremony. It will have a bed, a sheer curtained-off area, and…twelve chairs.”

I observe as she bites down on her lower lip, grappling with the effort it takes to form her words. “Dinah, the chairs…are for…twelve high-ranking members of the Brotherhood. They will all wear their masks; you will not be able to tell who is who.” Her fingers fidget in her lap, and she grinds her teeth. “You…you will disrobe…from your wedding gown, and dress in a sheer white slip with no undergarments, then lay on the bed facing those twelve chairs.”

A flush creeps up the side of her face, and her eyes refuse to meet mine, looking somewhere over my shoulder. “Ezekiel will take your purity in front of them. He will insert himself inside of your...sacred area. There…will be discomfort…and some pain. You will bleed afterward. That is what the men are there to see, Dinah. You are an offering of purity and light to the Brotherhood.”

I already knew a ritual existed, having questioned Ezekiel and Samuel about it hours before. Those two fuckers didn’t divulge these details, though. Hearing the minute details from Sarah, and seeing how uncomfortable the mere memory of participating in one is for her, makes my anxiety rise. My chest constricts painfully at the thought of being a vulgar display for those fuckers to get their rocks off on. Sick, demented assholes, wanting to watch a young woman be defiled for the first time.

“Ezekiel has the option of being gentle with you, Dinah, if he chooses to. I hope for your sake that he is. That is not always the case.” Her lips tremble, and a tear slips down her cheek. “That was not my case, nor your mother’s.”

She scrunches up her face and wipes away the tear, determined to continue. “Once he has blessed you with his release, the ritual is done, and the men will leave the room, including Ezekiel. Esther and I will return to dress you once again, and then you can return here for the celebration of the nuptials.”

“No! Ah…no, not Esther. I…she doesn’t like me. I would…I’d rather…it just be you. Please.” I lower my head and stare at my hands. I’ll be at my most vulnerable lying there, used by Ezekiel and on display to the men of the Order. I can’t even begin to fathom what my mental state will be like, but I know it won’t be great. I can see me lashing out at Esther and strangling her. Then everything will have been for nothing.

Fuck, I am going to need some help. Zeke didn’t think this through completely; how very male of him to assume it would all work itself out.Asshole.How will I not only hide all the tattoos while wearing a sheer nightgown, before twelve male leering members of the Brotherhood, but also pretend that I am a virgin? I know he said he had that covered, but can I trust him?

My eyes meet Sarah’s, and I see nothing but compassion in hers. She truly is sorry that I have to experience this. She was always so kind to me when I was little. She used to call me her shared daughter. Can I trust her now to help me get through this? To help me survive this fate without ratting me out to the Order?

Only one way to find out.Either she rats me out now, and I die before having to marry Ezekiel, or I don’t tell her, and I don’t manage to pull off hiding what I need from the Order, and I die anyway as a condemned woman.

I stand up from my chair, loosening the belt of my thick blue robe, and let it fall around me to my feet. A gasp sounds in the air around us as she stumbles from her chair, her hand over her mouth, and her eyes wide with horror in their depths.

“Dinah, what have you done?” She steps closer to me, her eyes roaming over my flesh and making goosebumps appear. I turn around on the spot so she can see clearly the gravity of the situation I find myself in.

“I lived, Sarah. I loved. Even as a prisoner, I loved.” The words leave my lips with a wince.

Sadness and awe cross her face at my words. She lifts her eyes from my tattooed skin and meets my gaze. I can see recognition dawn on her features. “The guard.”

I don’t bother to deny it; there could be no one else but him. All these years, locked up in captivity, it was only him and me, with the occasional visitor from the capital checking up on my welfare and mental state.

“Did he abuse you, Dinah? Did he take advantage of your mental state?” She questions, her hands tightening at her sides and her eyes practically glowing with amber fire. I wonder if she would attempt to harm Sammy if I said yes?

“No. He and I love each other. We have loved each other all these years. He was only ever there for me after… he has never hurt me, never forced me to do anything. He let me decide when and if I was ready. He is my home, my safe harbor, and I am his.”

Her eyes close tightly as she considers my words. “I am truly sorry, child. I wish they had left you alone in captivity for the remainder of your life. Left you in peace. Does Ezekiel know?”

She moves forward and lets her fingers trail gently over the leaves tattooed on my shoulder. At my nod in confirmation, she removes her touch and steps back, her forefinger coming up below my chin and raising my face to stare up into hers. “These are stunning; he has some talent, Dinah. It’s a shame we will have to cover them with thick makeup. We need to keep you alive, child.”

She drags her hands over her face, the strain of what I have just shown her clearly evident on her features. “Blessed be the Father, may he grant us strength to pull this off, and forgiveness for the deceit. Get naked; I’ll get the makeup started.”

Chapter 33

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