Page 109 of Thunder's Reckoning
He pulled back, eyes glinting like polished stone. “Did you know Tallis is dead?”
The floor tilted beneath me. My breath caught.
“He was loyal,” Gabrial said softly, savoring the words. “He risked himself to help you. And he died for it. Because of you. Because of your disobedience. His blood stains you.”
Images ripped through me of how he must have suffered at Gabrial’s hands.
My chest burned. I wanted to weep, to scream, to collapse. But I bit down until copper filled my mouth and let my shoulders slump, let sorrow fold me in half.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“Yes,” Gabrial breathed. “You are sorry. You should be. Tallis’s loyalty became his noose, tied by your hands. But fire will cleanse you, as it cleanses all things.”
He straightened, looming over me. His gaze sharpened, carving me into pieces.
“And yet… there is another question. The one that matters most.”
He closed the distance until his shadow swallowed me whole.
“Did he touch you?” His voice dropped to a low, venomous murmur. “If that biker has tainted you—if you allowed yourself to be defiled like something common—then cleansing will no longer be sufficient.”
My heart stopped. My pulse thundered. The truth clawed at my throat. I wanted to spit it in his face—yes, Zeke touched me with kindness, love, with something you’ve never known.
Instead, I lowered my gaze. “No.”
“Look at me.”
I lifted my eyes.
He searched me, dissected me, hunting for the crack, the twitch, the confession. My body screamed, but I held still.
Finally, he smiled. Slow. Triumphant.
“Good. Because purity must be confirmed. Before the ceremony, you will be inspected.”
My skin crawled. My stomach clenched. I bowed my head deeper. “I understand.”
“You belong to me,” he said, his hand cupping my jaw. His thumb brushed the corner of my mouth. Almost tender. My skin burned where he touched me, but I didn’t recoil.
“Yes,” I whispered.
His smile widened, eyes alight with reverence and madness. He released me and turned toward the door. His coat flared, the red fabric whispering like scripture turning on a lectern.
“At the time of my choosing, when I am certain of your purity, you will face the Flame. And you will rise as mine once more.”
He paused at the threshold.
And waited.
The silence stretched, suffocating, until I felt his eyes crawling over me. He was testing me, watching for the slip, the flinch, the crack. My lungs screamed for air. My body trembled, but I stayed still.
Only when the last second passed without movement did he nod, faintly, as though pleased.
The door slammed shut.
My body sagged, trembling so hard my knees nearly gave out. My nails cut crescents into my palms, stinging.
On the outside, I gave him what he wanted—silence, obedience, submission.
