Under His Rule (Dark Romance Suspense)

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Under His Rule (Dark Romance Suspense) Page 6

by Clarissa Wild


  “Me too. But we were stuck in a hellhole. Anyone would forget.” I let out a big breath. “At least this place has windows. And we have beds. And a toilet.”

  “A toilet?” Her eyes light up as though she’s been given a gift for Christmas, which is a sad thing to realize.

  “Yeah, there’s one in the back. Well, it’s more like a latrine, but it’s better than a bucket.”

  She laughs. “Oh, man … I can’t believe I’m actually happy about a proper toilet.”

  “Mmmhmm …” I take my scarf off my head and lay it down on the table, letting my hair cascade down. “It’s how they keep us down and force us to submit.”

  She swallows and nods.

  “Maybe that’s why they took me away,” she says. “Because I already grabbed the clothes and put them on. A sign of obedience.”

  “Exactly,” I say, and I sit down on the chair and stare at the empty water carafe standing on the table. “I guess they know exactly what they’re doing. Even though it took me a bit longer, we all eventually break.”

  She lowers her head and looks away. “I was the weak link.”

  “No, every one of us has their own strengths and weaknesses. Yours is survival,” I say, playing it off because I didn’t mean to hurt her.

  “What do you think they’ll do with us? That initiation, when does it end?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think they want to tell us. Information is power.”

  “Right.” She sits down too.

  “Where did they take you? After they took you from the cage, I mean?” I ask.

  “Another hut. But there was no one there. I was all by myself.”

  “What about food? Drinks? Sleep?”

  “Same as here. But they kept bringing me food. I’ve never been to that dining hut.”

  I sigh. That’s too bad because I was hoping she’d provide some information I could use to my advantage.

  “Do you think there are more of us?”

  I grab the carafe and get up. “More like when will there be more of us.”

  I pour in some water and set it down on the table along with two glasses. We both drink in silence. I’m not sure what else I can say as long as I don’t know how to get us out of this situation.

  Suddenly, the door opens. I look up. More women step in, but none of them seem surprised we’re here.

  “Hello,” one of them says.

  “Hi …” I reply, putting down my glass.

  “Hello,” April says, equally unsure.

  It’s two of them in total, and my eyes immediately go to the bunk beds that are lined up on the far side of the wall. Four beds. Four women.

  They immediately close the door behind them and put their bags down on the cabinet. One of them walks to the kitchenette to grab a glass and fills it with water from the carafe I’ve set on the table.

  “Thank you,” she says. “I was so thirsty.”

  “You’re welcome,” I reply, and I clear my throat. “What’s your name?”

  “Emmy,” she replies cheerfully.

  “Holly,” the other one says, holding out her hand. When I grab ahold, she shakes mine vigorously, and I fight hard to release it from her grip.

  “What’s yours?”

  April and I say our names in sync.

  “Such lovely names,” Holly says.

  “Finally, we’re not alone anymore,” Emmy says, taking off the shawl around her head. Glistening, red hair appears from underneath. “It was getting so gloomy with just us two.”

  Holly puts her hands against her side. “That’s no way to talk, Emmy.”

  “Sorry,” she says, giggling. “I just think it’ll be so much fun with these two.”

  “Hmmm …” I hum, trying to make sense of what’s happening here.

  These girls weren’t accompanied by an elder sister. They had a key. And they’re way too happy to be here.

  “You aren’t … captured, are you?” I ask.

  Emmy pauses and stares at me. “We are all loved by God, no matter where we came from. And I am your sister now, Natalie.”

  Sister.

  I shiver.

  Holly tries to kiss April on the cheeks, but she leans back in her chair, visibly shaken.

  “It’s custom here to kiss our sisters hello and goodbye,” Holly says.

  April still denies her.

  “Well, then … suit yourself.” Holly marches toward a bunk bed and climbs up the stairs so she can lie down on the top one and stare at us from above.

  “You’ll get used to us sisters being around you. You’ll learn to love it,” Holly says with a giant smile on her face that creeps me out a little.

  “I doubt that,” I reply.

  I don’t hide the sarcasm in my voice.

  These aren’t the teachers that punished me earlier. These are young girls, like me, and I get the sense they aren’t very high up the proverbial food chain.

  “No, I think you will love it,” she says, a serious tone in her voice. “Everyone does.”

  It almost sounds like a threat. It’s probably not a coincidence these two came to live here with us. They’re probably watching us to make sure we don’t do anything stupid.

  I glance at April, who doesn’t seem amused either as she watches Emmy move around the hut, cleaning up the whole place as though it needs to be spick and span before guests arrive.

  “Who are you then? Elders?”

  Emmy laughs. “No, silly. We’re fellow sisters like Holly said.”

  “So you’re going through initiation too?”

  “All women of age are initiates before they get married,” she says as though it’s common info that we should’ve already learned.

  “So you’re not married then?” I ask.

  “No, silly. Husbands and wives move into their own huts. But we’re still bunked up with you girls for now,” Emmy says.

  “Are you from our world or …?” April asks.

  Emmy stops waving the broom around, and there’s a peculiar, judgmental look on her face that I can’t quite place. “Everyone is.”

  Doom and gloom settle on April’s face. Maybe I should’ve warned her. Double-faced people can’t be anything but duplicitous. It’s in their very nature.

  “Were you born here in the Holy Land?” I ask, without looking at either. I feel so ridiculous naming this whole community the Holy Land, but I have to play along in order to fit in.

  “Yes,” Emmy replies.

  The glass I’m holding almost breaks in my hand, so I release it just in time.

  Born here, but they are our age. That means this whole “community” thing has been going on for a long time. How did I not know about this? Does anyone in the outside world know, apart from a few journalists and newspapers?

  “Why do you ask? We’re no different from you,” she says.

  “Right,” I mutter, and I look away.

  “We’re all sisters here, waiting for our ritual to become wives.” She giggles gleefully as if it’s something to be excited about, but the mere prospect gives me the chills.

  Ritual.

  I wonder what it entails. If it’s more than simply putting a ring on a woman’s finger and calling her your wife. Maybe that’s why I never married a guy. The mere prospect of being reduced to nothing more than someone else’s belonging makes me feel like shit.

  I am more than who owns me. I am more than the sum of my belongings or the people who surround me. And I am more than the scars on my body say I am.

  I get up and turn away, sick to my stomach that I have to even think about it, let alone have a whole discussion. These people are nuts.

  I go to the toilet and hold my belly. It aches right around the edge of where they once cut me, as though my skin wants to remind me of what it went through to get here. That I could’ve died …

  I hold my breath for a moment.

  “Are you okay?”

  I’m whisked around by Emmy, whose eyes widen when she spots me touching my own belly
underneath the dress.

  “Oh, my …” she mutters as I quickly lower the dress.

  “You have a scar … there,” she adds.

  Fuck.

  I was hoping she wouldn’t notice, but it’s too late now.

  “Doesn’t matter.” I sigh, pushing past her.

  “It does matter. You’re not untouched?” Her words resonate through the hut, and everyone’s looking at me now.

  Untouched.

  I think I know what that means.

  Running my tongue along my teeth, I contemplate how I’m going to answer this ridiculous question that she has no right to ask. But if I don’t reply, they’ll surely report me to the elder wife … and I’ll be punished. So I say, “No.”

  Both Emmy and Holly suck in the air as if it got knocked out of their lungs.

  “What are you doing here then?” she asks, jaw dropped. “The ritual is only for the untouched.”

  I close my eyes and try not to lose my shit, but I’m so close that I could scream in her face right about now. “I don’t know, Emmy,” I say as I turn around. “You tell me. Because I sure don’t understand any of this. None, whatsoever.”

  I walk toward the door, but she follows me.

  “But the men have never gathered captured without them being untouched. This has never happened before. Why?”

  I shrug. “Some guy took an interest in me, I guess. Don’t ask me. Ask them.”

  “Some guy?” she repeats. “No, that has to be from way up, if it’s ever allowed.”

  I raise my brow at her, and her face completely tightens.

  I don’t have to say another word, so I don’t.

  Instead, I open the door and walk out.

  I’m so glad those two left it unlocked, probably on purpose to test us, but I don’t care. I need the fresh air in my lungs because I can’t fucking breathe in that hut.

  Why am I even here? I’m nothing to these people. I don’t belong here, yet they want me.

  He wants me.

  It’s all because of him; the man who took me from that joint where the Family was holding a speech. This Family. The one I’ve now been forced to become a part of just to please him.

  Why? Why did he choose me? What on earth does he want from me?

  Images of the symbol flash through my mind, and I can’t escape the thoughts circling through my head. Why did I have a cloth with that symbol on it? It can’t be a coincidence. This can’t all be a coincidence. There has to be a reason he took me.

  “Hello, Natalie.”

  The familiar dark, brooding voice instantly makes me turn my head.

  I want to hurl.

  Instead, tears well up in my eyes.

  It’s him.

  He’s here.

  Chapter 7

  Noah

  The moment our eyes met, it felt as though the earth stood still.

  I’ve wondered what this moment would be like. If she’d stop and stare. If she’d look at me with hatred or with fear. If she’d try to kill me.

  Probably all of those things wrapped into one beautiful package.

  Even in those white gowns the women are forced to wear, she still looks as pretty as I remember. Our connection was instant back in that joint where we held that speech to convert people.

  She must know it was me … that I’m the one who took her.

  No doubt she’s been questioning all sorts of things since she came here. But I have no answers that I can give her that will take away her rage. None.

  This is her new reality now.

  There is only take it, no leave it.

  And I can imagine that’s a hard pill to swallow.

  “It’s you …”

  I knew she’d recognize me.

  But her voice sounds shattered. Painful. As though she’s been to hell and back just to stand here and look me in the eyes.

  I deserve every inch of her wrath.

  “Yes,” I reply.

  Every step I take toward her, she takes one back, until she’s pressed against the side of the hut, just out of sight from the guards and her fellow sisters.

  Good.

  I don’t enjoy being seen. At least not here, where the helpers live in peace. It’s not our place to meddle, and it’s highly unusual for a patriarch to come out of the temple, let alone all by himself.

  Normally, I’d be escorted if I ever left the building or the property.

  But not right now. Not when I’m doing something completely against protocol.

  I needed to see her … See if she made it out alive … and sane.

  “I see you’ve adjusted,” I say, taking in her dainty figure dressed in all white. “It looks good on you.”

  Her lips part. I wonder what she’ll say to me.

  No words are uttered, except a gasp the moment I stand in front of her.

  “I know you probably assumed we wouldn’t meet again this soon, but I needed to see you for myself.” I grasp a strand of her hair that’s fallen out of the shawl and curl it around my finger, imagining fisting a whole bunch while I fuck her from behind.

  Calm down, Noah.

  Don’t want to get a hard-on in public, especially not with what’s at stake here. I need to take this slow, for both our sakes. She needs a little more training and a few more teachings before I can begin.

  Patience is a virtue I struggle with daily, but Natalie has truly tested me.

  I lean in and place my hand against the wood, whispering into her ear, “It’s been so hard to watch from the sidelines … to see you unravel right in front of me without me there to hold you.”

  “Watch me?” she mutters, her pupils dilating. “The cameras.”

  I nod. Of course, she knows. She’s destroyed one of them, so she must’ve realized I was watching or else she wouldn’t have gotten so enraged.

  “Good girl. But you’re ours now, and we don’t get mad at our own.”

  Her face turns sour, and she balls her fists.

  “Shhh … This’ll all be easier if you only gave in,” I say.

  “Never,” she hisses.

  A wicked smile forms on my lips. “If only you knew the lengths I went through to get you.”

  “Why? Why me?” she asks, her voice cracking again.

  I know it’s hard on her, this place, but she must hold on.

  “Why did you do this to me?” she cries out.

  So I wrap my arms around her and hug her tight.

  She’s frozen in my arms and silent, apart from the ragged breaths coming from her mouth.

  “You’ll understand someday. I can’t explain everything without risking it all too,” I say, still holding her tight. “But know that I never wanted to hurt you.”

  “But … but …” she mutters. “The cell …”

  I lean back and look her directly in the eyes. “Was a necessary evil.”

  She makes a face, shaking her head. “You put me there. On purpose.”

  “No, it’s how the initiation goes,” I explain. “All captured go through the same process. Yours was no different.”

  “I know what you are,” she says, trembling in place. “You could’ve stopped it.”

  “The process is not up to me to decide,” I say. “The women here do what they must do to comply with the rules, as do I.”

  “You had no right,” she says through gritted teeth.

  I tilt her chin with one finger. “I had every right.”

  She licks her lips in anger but doesn’t reply. It’s as if she’s scared she’ll give something away. A vulnerability she refuses to show. A weakness … I could exploit.

  Of course, she’s smart. She knows what I want.

  What she doesn’t realize is that I always get what I want.

  “Just know you’re a part of something important, and nothing, and I mean nothing, will stand in the way of that,” I say, lowering my head. “You’ve survived. And I will be here watching you every step of the way while you flourish in your new role.” I caress her cheek. “An
d then, when the time comes, I’ll come and get you.”

  I wink, and with that, I turn around and leave before anyone finds me here.

  I may be beyond excited to have her in my grasp, but I know the rules … And sooner or later she will too, whether she likes it or not.

  Soon, she will be mine, and mine alone to enjoy.

  She just doesn’t know it yet.

  Natalie

  Even after he’s left, the air is still thick with untold stories and riddles I can’t decipher. My head spins and spins with so many questions that I don’t have the answers to, and he refused to give them.

  Why would he do this to me? Why me specifically? Did he choose me randomly, or am I missing something? The symbol, what did it mean and why did I have it? Why the heck did I not ask him when I had the chance?

  I ponder for so long that I’m still standing there minutes after he’s left.

  And worse … I can still feel his touch, my skin aching for more.

  I can’t ever feel that again. No matter what.

  No matter how deprived of physical contact I get. No matter how this place makes me feel, how it makes me long for someone to understand me, to give me comfort when all else is cruel.

  I can’t give in.

  Not to him.

  Anyone but him.

  He’s the one who took me. This is all his doing. My misery was his choice.

  I can’t ever let a man like that overpower me.

  Even though he managed to subdue me like a meek fawn with a simple whisper and a touch.

  Am I really that weak? Have I lost my ability to fight? Am I that desperate?

  Or does he just know how to worm his way into my presence without me wanting to strike back?

  “That was … a patriarch.”

  I turn my head. Emmy’s standing in the doorway, gaping at me.

  “I just saw him leave,” she adds, looking as though she saw a ghost. “Did he … talk to you?”

  I swallow away the lump in my throat as she marches toward me. I’m still completely fazed about what just happened.

  “A patriarch … favors you,” Emmy says. I don’t like the look in her eyes. It’s not kind or ignorant like she looked at me before … it feels judgmental. Almost as if she’s jealous.

  She narrows her eyes at me. “Aren’t you happy?”

 

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