Page 109 of Love to Defy You
“Shut your mouth,” I growl. “You never lovedMat’, so you’ll never understand what Willow and I have. In fact, I don’t think you’re capable of it.”
God, it feels so fucking good to get this off my chest. To stand up to him after all those years of abuse and fear.
Grigor shakes his head, his anger thinly veiled. “You’re making a mistake.”
“No. No, I’m not.” I straighten up and step away from him. “I’ll do anything to keep her safe, and if that means ending my life, I will gladly give it.”
Grigor narrows his gaze. “I’ve raised a son with no backbone. Such a disappointment.”
A movement on the opposite end of the courtyard grabs my attention. I glance up and spot one of the candidates walking this way.
I turn back to Grigor to continue our conversation, but the ghost of my father is gone.
Good riddance.
The other candidates begin to arrive in their finest suits, like me, for the final ritual. After tonight, we will either die or become gods among men with the promise of unimaginable wealth and power, but not without a steep price to pay.
At last, we are all assembled, and the clock tower counts down the remaining minutes to midnight. Only seven of us have made it this far. The rest are gone, their bones trapped underground for eternity as nothing more than wall decorations.
These guys have no idea what awaits them down in the chamber. When faced with the choice, how many of them will sacrifice their pythia to ascend to divinity? I imagine all of them will.
We’re about to find out.
When the clock strikes midnight, the cellar door opens with a creak, and a hooded figure appears, just like all the other times, and waits. He doesn’t usher us forward; he stares at us with his face shrouded in shadow like a dark specter in the night.
I am the first to wade through the bushes and reach the entrance. Without waiting for instructions, I push past him and make my way down the stairs, where another hooded figure awaits us with a torch in his hand.
“Walk,” I snarl.
The figure recoils at my harsh command, but he obeys without argument and leads the way into the tunnels. The other candidates have to jog to catch up, but I don’t care. I’m anxious to see Willow as soon as possible.
As we descend farther underground, the familiar, musty odor assaults my nose. I only got out of my cell last night, yet here I am again, even though my survival instincts urge me to escape. My heart rate shoots up, and a cold sweat breaks out on my forehead and palms.
I’m familiar with this feeling. I felt it every time my father called me into his office. Pain leaves an enduring imprint on the body, and it lingers long after the physical scars have faded.
But I forge ahead. Willow needs me.
We arrive at the chamber, and I push past the hooded figure to race inside. At the front of the room, on the raised platform, are seven crosses, each with a woman chained up to it, arms restrained outward like Jesus himself. They wear the same attire the pythias wore at the Trial of Lust, those sheer, white dresses and laurel crowns atop their heads. Each of them is unconscious, heads bowed, eyes closed. Some of the pythia stir, but all they can manage are incoherent, groggy moans.
They’ve been drugged.
I scan the platform for Willow, but none of these women is her. One of the crosses stands empty at the end of the row.
“Where is she?” I race toward the steps to search for her, but the hooded figures form a human wall to block my path. When I try to push through, they grab my arms and drag me away, then shove me to my knees in the center of the room.
The other candidates are made to do the same until all seven of us are lined up in a straight row facing the shackled pythias. I struggle against my captors, who hold my arms behind my back, until a familiar voice speaks in my ear.
“Calm down,” Mikhail whispers behind me. “You’ll only make it worse for yourself if you resist.”
“Where the fuck is Willow?” I hiss.
He’s silent for a long moment. “I… I don’t know.”
My body goes still as cold dread renders me frozen. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”
“It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.”
I have to bite back the vomit rising in my throat.
