Page 32

By the time we arrive at the church, the other warriors are pacing.

They look relieved when we return and dump my father’s unconscious body on the stone altar.

Wrath looks around. “I need some rope,” he says, and Abe points to a curtain covering the doorway.

There’s a thick tie back on each side, and I rush to grab them.

I find four in total and take them to Wrath, who picks my father up and carries him to the cross looming over the altar.

Abe and the others help him hold my father against the cross, and Jaycee and Anna tie his limbs to it.

When they all step back, I stare up at the man I’ve spent my entire life being terrified of.

He doesn’t look so big and scary anymore.

“Remove his clothes,” I mutter, and Wrath looks back at me.

“He should be as humiliated as we have all been.”

Martha grabs the dagger which has been displayed on the church wall for as long as I can remember, and she hands it to Zeus, who makes quick work of removing my father’s clothes. I scoff, rolling my eyes. I always knew he’d have a small dick.

The doors open and Alex enters, followed quickly by the forefathers.

Silas pushes past him, his eyes searching frantically until they land on me.

They soften immediately, and I almost feel bad for what’s about to happen.

He heads towards me, seemingly unaware of everything going on around him.

Wrath blocks his path, and Silas gasps, finally looking around the room to see everyone staring back.

“What’s going on?” he demands, and I detect a waver in his usually confident voice.

Alex closes the church doors with a bang, and all three forefathers spin around in fright. “What the hell are you doing?” snaps Adrian.

“Sorry we had to get you out of bed,” says Abe, smirking. “We’d like to present your leader,” he adds, flinging his arm in the direction of the cross. The men stare wide-eyed. “You should take a seat.”

Max moves towards them, and they scuttle into the nearest pew and sit down. “Wynter, what’s going on?” Silas asks.

“Don’t speak to her,” Wrath bellows, and Silas shrinks back.

Groaning comes from my father, and he begins to stir, slowly lifting his head. He blinks a few times before frowning then tugging on his restraints. He glances down, seeing his naked body, and realisation crosses his expression. “Nice of you to join us,” says Wrath.

He goes to the nearest stained window, the one where Jesus is spread on the cross, and he smashes it with his fist. He picks up a large shard and takes it back to where my father is hanging.

“I never believed in the bullshit you forced us to learn,” he tells him.

“Do you remember me, Anthony?” My father doesn’t answer, instead taking a large gulping breath.

Wrath places the shard to my father’s groin.

“All those days spent in your office,” he adds, and I frown, glancing at the other warriors to see if they know what he’s talking about.

None of them look surprised as Wrath adds, “The days spent bent over your desk while you fucked the devil out of me?” I gasp, slamming my hand over my mouth.

“Newsflash,” he whispers, “It didn’t work.

” He slides the glass into my father’s abdomen, and he screams in agony.

“I lost my voice after everything you did. How ironic that it was your daughter who brought it back.”

Wrath

I shake with adrenaline as I grab hold of Anthony’s flaccid cock and pull it towards me.

“All the times you whispered prayers in my ear while you got yourself off.” I drag the glass down one side and feel the skin break away.

I inhale the heady scent of his blood and smile.

“And every time you came in my ass, I pictured this moment,” I whisper, slicing through the delicate skin and detaching his penis.

His screams suddenly stop and his head slumps again.

I shake my head in annoyance and slap him across the face until he wakes.

His eyes are wide with fear, and when he opens his mouth to scream again, I ram his member between his lips and hold my hand over it until he chokes.

I feel a gentle hand on my back and glance to my left to find Wynter.

My chest heaves as I stare into her innocent eyes and realise what I’ve just done.

But instead of horror, I see love, and she smiles.

She produces a rag and taps my arm so I remove my hand, and then she shoves the rag into his mouth, making sure he chokes some more.

“Why was I so scared of you?” she asks him, tipping her head to one side as she stares at her father.

His eyes are wide and panicked as he tries to breathe calmly through his nose.

“I warned you, didn’t I,” she asks, smirking, “that the people would rebel.” She laughs.

“Bet you didn’t think I’d be leading it. ”

She turns back to the other forefathers. “Who’s next?”

“Wynter, we can work this out,” Silas pleads desperately.

“Looks like we have a volunteer,” says Zeus, grabbing him by the collar and dragging him from the pew to kneel at the altar.

“This isn’t you,” Silas whispers, his eyes begging Wynter to listen.

Wynter takes the glass from me and circles Silas. I can’t deny she looks more beautiful than ever holding all the power for once. I take a seat, watching as she stops in front of him. “I almost fell for it,” she tells him. “That act you put on.”

“It wasn’t an act,” he argues. “I’m in love with you.” I clench my jaw, resisting the urge to end this fucker.

“You were so nice to me,” she adds thoughtfully.

“The clothes, the dinners on the terrace, the dancing under the stars . . . you even promised to take me out of this hell to see what’s beyond the walls you’ve imprisoned me in.

” Her words cause an ache in my heart at the thought of him doing all those things with her, things I should have been doing.

“We can still do that,” he rushes to tell her. “I can take you anywhere you want to go.”

“I want my freedom,” she snaps.

“Done,” he tells her, nodding. “We can leave together and forget about this place.”

I stand, anger burning through me, but her next words still me. “You ruined it all,” she whispers, her voice breaking with emotion, “when you made me . . . touch you.”

My fists tighten into balls of fury, and I step closer. The thought of him putting her through any more trauma is killing me. “It’s what married couples do,” he argues.

“No,” she screams, shaking with anger. “I told you I didn’t want to, just like I didn’t want to go to the ceremonies, just like I didn’t want to share your bed or your marriage.”

“I only want you, Wynter,” he tells her, holding out his hands like he’s trying to reason with her. “It’s always been you.”

“No,” she whispers, shaking her head. “That’s not love,” she adds.

“Please,” he begs. “Don’t do this.”

She steps closer, until she’s within reaching distance, and he pulls her to him, pressing his forehead against her stomach. My heart twists as she begins to cry, running her fingers through his already dishevelled hair. “Please,” he sobs.

I hold my hand out to Martha, and she gives me the bleach. I remove the cap, but before I can use it, Wynter raises her hand, slamming it down and piercing his neck with the shard of glass. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, “but you can’t live in this world with me.”

His hands release her, and he clasps his neck.

Confusion plays out on his face as he tries to hold the wound closed.

Wynter takes a few steps back, staring at her bloodied hands, and I move in, gripping his hair and tipping his head back so he’s staring up at me.

“You saw her naked one too many times,” I tell him, squeezing the bottle and pouring bleach into his eyes.

He cries out, trying to wipe them clean but smearing it over his face.

The second it touches his open wound, he screams, and I cover his mouth so all he can do is inhale the strong chemical into his nose.

Satisfaction brings a calm feeling that settles into my bones.

I never thought this would be possible, and yet here we are, winning the war.