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His short black, wavy hair is still styled to perfection and he’s clean shaven.

He has his priest’s robes on but I spot some blood splattered near the collar, which seems to make the threat of him so much worse.

For something to be out of place with him, it must have been bad.

I look from him to Dray; the differences are crazy.

You can almost feel the power and deadly intent leaking from Dray, and his body is a weapon…

Priest? He’s controlled, small, and perfect.

Yet, I can still feel something out of place with him and those eyes still give me the creeps.

That calculating gleam in his gaze has me standing taller, and when his smooth cultured voice comes again, everyone pays attention. “I see you made it back alive, I am betting we have much to talk about.”

“You could say that,” I grit out, my anger at him for knowing my father returning. A man in a hooded robe steps up behind him. He is easily double Priest’s height and weight, compared to this mountain Priest looks like a child.

“My lord,” his voice is rough and damaged, but Priest holds up his hand to silence him. The man instantly steps back and bows his head, and not for the first time I wonder how he has this much power over his people. They fear him, but they also worship him. Why?

“I can feel your anger, Champion. I did tell you to be careful on the roads, did I not?” he says idly, and when he looks down and spots the blood on his shirt he grimaces.

Holding out a hand to his man, he waits patiently as the man offers over a cloth.

When he dabs at the blood, which is fresh, and smears it, he makes a disgruntled noise and glares at the offending spot.

If I was that drop, I would be running the other way from this crazy train of a man.

Holding up the stained cloth between two fingers with a disgusted look, he waits for the man to take it before looking back at me.

“Now, why don’t you tell me why you have a look in your eyes that says you would very much like to hurt me?” he asks casually, but underneath that is a warning, one that has Dray and my men moving not closer, but further apart. So, we have room to fight if need be.

“The man, the one who saved your wife, the one you tried to warn me about. You knew, you knew he was hiding down there. You knew Paradise was real,” I say quietly, my tone deadly.

It’s not what I really want to say, but I can’t go around declaring he is my father or people would try to use him to get to me, or the other way around.

No, my anger is there but I can’t admit to why without starting another war, one that I won’t have a chance of fighting.

“I see, I also see his men here with you now. It all seemed to work out for the best, did it not?” Priest says, arching a perfectly shaped black brow at me .

Grinding my teeth together, I crack my neck from side to side trying my hardest not to jump at him and try to shake the crazy out of him. The mountain at his back must sense the threat because he steps around Priest to face me.

“No,” Priest declares, holding his hand up to stop the man.

The man hesitates but when my hand drops to my knife, just in case, he roars and throws his hood back. Revealing a mangled and scarred face. I don’t get chance to check him out before he is flying at me, righteous anger twisting his monstrous face and his fist aimed at my head.

I react instantly, my knife flying through the air and imbedding in his stomach. When it only slows him down for an instant, I grab my whip and coil it ready. I sense my men getting ready to join the fray and I hold my hand up, mimicking Priest.

“No, he’s mine,” I shout before ducking under the punch and sliding across the floor until I am behind him.

Kicking off the floor, I jump onto his back and wrap the whip around him.

He tries to buck me off, spinning wildly with me attached.

Using his elbow, he hits back making me grunt, but I stay locked around him as he starts to get winded, his thick neck contorting against the black leather whip until he falls to his knees.

Jumping off his back, I plant my feet firmly and use the floor to hoist the whip harder.

It doesn’t escape my notice that both me and Dray have tried to choke someone out in the last ten minutes.

“Enough. The Summit has been called, peace will be upheld here,” Major’s voice booms as he strides into the corridor and our little impromptu meeting.

When he sees me with a whip wrapped around the no longer hooded man, he throws me an exasperated look.

Twisting the whip, I knock the man out and drop him to the floor, offering Major an innocent look as Priest starts to laugh hysterically.

The laughter cuts out as suddenly as it started and leaves an uncomfortable chill in the air.

“No peace was broken, we were simply airing some unfortunate issues which arose. There is no ill will between me and the Champion, isn’t that right?” Priest asks, and they both look to me waiting for the answer.

Gritting my teeth, I nod, after all if I want him to fight with us, I can’t go around issuing challenges, and it’s not like he knew that was my father even if he did know something was off.

Stepping back, I look around to see Dray cleaning his knife against the wall as if he hadn’t cared who would win.

Maxen, Thorn, Drax, and Jax are standing close, but not too close, their fists clenched, obviously wanting to kill the man.

“Plus, my man was at fault. I told him no, he did not listen.” That is aimed at the man who is slowly coming to at my feet. The anger in his voice has us all stepping back as he approaches the mountain of a man.

“Michael. Kneel,” he demands, his voice echoing around the corridor.

Dray steps to my side again as I wait, my curiosity piqued with what Priest will do. He leans into me and whispering loudly says, “I like the whip, you can use that on me anytime.”

Rolling my eyes, I tie it back to my waist. “Crazy bastard,” I mutter, and I hear him laugh.

“Then tell me you didn’t just imagine using it on me,” he replies in a whisper, making me shiver. I mean, I should be concentrating on what is happening in front of me, but with Dray whispering dirty thoughts, which yes, I did imagine, it’s hard.

Using the toe of his shoe, Priest raises the man’s head.

I get my first good look at him and he is just as monstrous as I first thought.

Scar after scar crisscrosses his face, some on top of each other until his eyebrows, nose and mouth are all distorted.

It looks like someone took a fence to his face, but I can see the scars are old and whitening, with only a few laid-on top still pink and fresh.

“Michael, you dare defy me?” Priest demands, his eyes flashing dangerously.

“My lord,” he gasps painfully, panic in every word.

“I said no!” Priest screams, his chest heaving with every breath. He reaches up and runs his hand through his hair, shaking it back in to place perfectly. “You know the price for your insolence,” he finishes, his voice deadly.

The man nods, his breaths gasping out still, now in panic and not in his effort to breathe.

I watch––I can’t seem to look away––it feels like I am getting a sneak peek look into the private world of The Worshippers.

Didn’t I just say I wondered how he kept his men in line?

Watching now, I realise it is not just pure unadulterated worship, but fear.

It is the screaming of the man kneeled at his feet.

This small man wields and plays with terror like I play with knives, and that makes him dangerous.

No, not dangerous, deadly. Sands below, I am glad he is on our side.

Priest hands him his knife, one that I didn’t even see him produce and in amusement watches as the man takes the blade. Meeting Priest’s eyes, he holds it to his forehead.

“Priest, forgive me for I have sinned,” he yells as he drags the knife through his skin.

I hear someone behind me gag and someone laugh, but I can’t look away as the red blood splashes on his skin.

Holding the knife back to his temple again as the blood drips to the floor he carries on.

“Priest, forgive me for I am merely a sheep to your wolf.” Screaming raggedly, the sound reverberating around and making a horrifying noise he drags the knife through his skin again.

I hear someone get sick as the smell of copper hits the air and you can taste the blood on your tongue.

“Priest, forgive me. I am not worthy,” he whispers brokenly, as he slashes his own face one more time.

Blood pools around him and he has to close his eyes as it drips everywhere.

With a clatter, the knife drops to the floor, blood covering the blade.

The man yells wordlessly as he holds his own face together.

Priest stands above him, his face calm and empty. Like he sees this daily, and he probably does if the existing scars are anything to go by. “Stand my child, for you are forgiven. What was given, is now received.”

The man at his feet weeps and crawls towards him until he kisses the shoe in front of him. “Thank you, my lord,” he whispers.

“Well fuck,” I hear Drax whisper behind me and I nod. Yep, that pretty much sums this up.

I thought I had seen all the crazy this world had to offer, clearly, I had never met Priest. He makes me look like a kid.

“Err-okay.” Major coughs and offers me a wide-eyed look, as if to say what the fuck. “Shall we go back to the room? The others are getting restless.” I nod and look at Priest who straightens his sleeves and offers us an ‘after you’ wave of his hand.

I don’t let him walk at my back, not now that I know what he can do. Instead, I walk by his side with my men behind me.

“Oh, and Michael?” he calls as we walk away.

“Yes, my lord?” Michael answers.

“Clean up that mess before you join us.” Turning, he walks away and I join him.

Sands below, The Summit has not even started yet, and the blood is flowing.

Major leads us into a different corridor, with only a brown door at the end. No one speaks, but I feel a few hands brush against me, offering me their strength.

Stopping in front of it he throws me a look. “You ready?” he asks.

I nod, and he opens the door wide and utter chaos spills out.