Page 146 of Immortal Bastard (The Order of Vampires)

“Come with me.”

She didn’t speak to the man and appreciated that he made no attempt to touch her. Walking closely, he escorted her down the long hall to the room where The Council meetings were held.

At the far end of the corridor, she spotted Adriel and Dane waiting on a bench and her breath caught. Their familiar faces brought a level of unexpected relief. “You came—”

“No talking.”

She had been reminded by Christian several times that she must obey the rules while in the Safe House. Females were not permitted into Council Hall unless subpoenaed. Her required presence came with an order of silence, which she must abide at all times or they would take her voice away.

Adriel caught her hand and squeezed, sending her a wave of reassurance. Delilah squeezed back, knowing this would be brutal for her as well.

“No touching.”

Their hands pulled apart, and Dane met her stare, something cold and hard in his eyes, but his animosity wasn’t intended for her. His concern for her well-being last night forged a strange, unspoken alliance between them. She felt oddly aligned with him when only days ago she assumed he was her enemy.

The double doors opened, and benches creaked as a hundred immortal men turned to look at her. It didn’t matter that they were all in the prime of their lives and gorgeous. Their meek Amish appearance wouldn’t soften her guard. These men were all lethal immortals, and their power stole the air right from her lungs.

“To the front,” the guard said, leading her down the narrow aisle.

Her gaze found Cain and Adam in the pews. Cain slightly nodded, his eyes somber and his mouth tight.

Council Hall was similar to an ordinary court room. A male clerk sat in the left corner and a justice bench stretched across the front, the eyes of several grave men—including Christian—watching her every move. She assumed that was the Elder’s Council.

When her gaze met Christian’s, she allowed herself to blink. Her eyes burned from staring so long, and if she’d had the ability to make tears in that moment, she would have cried.

Breathe, pintura.

His soft command filled her mind, traveling straight to her lungs as air whooshed into her.

It will all be over soon.

His love surrounded her, and she returned the comfort by sending him a burst of her own. I love you.

“Sit.” David pointed to the simple wooden chair placed in the center of the floor.

She lowered into the seat, her back to the men in the audience and her eyes locked on Christian. David then moved to the marshal’s seat on the far right and waited. The silence stretched for several agonizing seconds until the bishop rose.

“We call Brother Christian Schrock to the floor.”

Christian stood and walked from the bench. When he reached the floor, he faced the elders and the bishop said, “Christian Schrock, you are being sentenced, by proxy, for the crimes of your mate, Sister Delilah Starling, who has violated The Order’s holy laws by exposing our species in the presence of four mortals. For this crime, you will receive one hundred lashings for each mortal witness. What say you?”

Christian stood stoically before the bench and lifted his chin. “I accept my sentence.”

“Kneel.”

He glanced at Delilah. I love you. Be brave.

Her body tensed the moment he severed their mental link and dropped to his knees. Christian? Christian! She hadn’t expected him to remove that connection, which she’d come to rely on in times of worry. Her eyes blinked rapidly as fear sizzled through every nerve.

“Brother Abraham,” the bishop called and another elder stood, this one holding a long leather whip that coiled around his fist.

This was Christian’s uncle, Abigail’s father, yet he looked as young and fiercely beautiful as the rest of them. The golden tan of his skin complimented his wheat-blond hair. But when he spoke in that thick Germanic accent, his sharp blue eyes remained flat and lifeless, his voice shooting a chill up Delilah’s spine.

“Nephew,” he greeted Christian, as the whip unraveled from his fist to drag along the floor. “Remove your shirt.”

He carried himself with an almost Aryan arrogance that chilled her to the bone. His flawless, athletically toned body was underscored by a lethal air that needed no explanation. No wonder Abigail was so obedient and meek. Her father was terrifying.

“Let us begin.”

Delilah swallowed as Christian stripped off his jacket, vest, and shirt folding them neatly and setting them aside.

Abraham loosened his wrists, wagging the whip back and forth, finding the proper hold. Christian, although kneeling on the hard floor, kept his spine straight and his head bowed. Delilah’s hands wrung nervously in her lap.

The first strike came fast. She hadn’t been ready, and she gasped as the leather struck down, leaving an angry stripe across Christian’s flawless skin. The deep red lash darkened, but the flesh remained intact.