Page 79 of Bride By Initiation

He opens the door and motions for me to step inside.

I take three steps and freeze.

We're somewhere outside. It's warm, and we're in a huge arena. The sky's clear, dotted with stars and a full moon, but it's unlike anything I've ever seen. It's as if I can reach up and touch it.

Just like at the underground fight, people are everywhere. This time, it's not chaotic, though. The men wear tuxedos and skull masks. The masks are the same design as the brand.

Women wear pink from head to toe. The gem-encrusted eye masks are similar to the one lady at the fight wore. Their strapless evening gowns dip low in the front, have low backs, and slits to their upper thighs. Their stilettos have diamond-encrusted heels.

The crowd stands shoulder to shoulder, like at a sold-out event. The women hold candles. The men hold long wooden torches with flames burning toward the sky. A pink carpet stretches down all the aisles, leading to a huge stage.

Twelve women stand in a row, turned away from the crowd. They wear white, lacy lingerie. There's a long train attached to their "dress," and veils cover their faces.

"It's time to go, son. Whatever you do, don't be the one without a bride," Byrne warns, pointing to the stage.

My heart beats faster, as if in tune with the drums. I move forward, and as I get closer, I realize other men are walking down the other aisles toward the stage.

My pulse skyrockets. I count twelve of them, and Byrne's warning screams in my head. It sets in that one of us will receive a bad consequence, and I don't know what it'll be, but I don't want to find out.

I'm not marrying one of these women.

But I don't want to be at the tail end of their consequence.

Jesus. How do I get out of this?

I'll pick a bride and find a way not to marry her.

Will it even be real?

I'm sure it's not a legal wedding.

What if it is?

My aisle ends. Thirteen pink X's mark the ground at the edge of the stage, facing the crowd. A man directs me to the thirteenth one, and I take my spot, with my back to the women.

When all thirteen of us stand shoulder to shoulder, the music stops. A woman comes forward, in the same dress as the others, but her mask is adorned with diamonds instead of pink gems. I realize she's the same woman from the fight.

The crowd chants, "Valentina! Valentina! Valentina!"

She throws her hand in the air, and the arena turns silent. She roars, "We have thirteen men tonight. One will not have a bride."

Ear-deafening cheers explode around me. Everything about it makes my blood turn cold. Their excitement reminds me of the underground fight and how they cheered when men died.

Byrne's warning plays over and over in my mind.

Valentina silences the crowd and explains, "Here's how it's going to work." She walks down the line of men, running her gaze from the top of our heads to our feet and back up before going on to the next one. When she gets to me, she stops longer than she did with the others.

I hold her gaze, wondering what she's thinking.

She reaches up and puts her hand on my cheek.

A wave of coldness flies down my jaw, through my neck, and into my heart. I clench my jaw.

Her lips twitch. "Ah, you came to take your rightful place, but there's no seat at the table for free. Your dad didn't agree with anyone not earning their spot."

A claw scrapes into my gut. I wish everyone would stop talking about my father. I hate how they all seem to know more about him than I do.

Yet he's the reason I'm here. I might not understand this world, but I'm determined to get to the place where everything makes sense.

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