My plan wasn't working! They weren't going to lock me up, they were going to make me marry this man! He had to be a decade older than Peter Morgan! Worse, I knew he'd had many, many more wives, and not all of them had died giving birth. No, he was not the man I wanted to marry, and this was why women never complained. This was why being obedient was always the better choice!
I shook my head vehemently, looking around for some idea of what to do next. I couldn't let this happen. I had to do something. Anything! My throat just got tighter, until I felt like I couldn't breathe. The blood pumping through my ears was so loud I couldn't even understand what the Council of Elders was saying.
As my eyes scanned the crowd, I saw Callah. She was behind a line of people, barely even visible, but her rose-gold hair stood out. Desperately, I met her eyes, hoping she'd have some words of wisdom. My ears were ringing. I felt like I couldn't pull in a whole breath, but seeing her felt like a lifeline.
Then she mouthed, "Yellow."
No. No, no, no. Oh what had I done? Terrified, I turned and tried to flee, but someone grabbed me. Reynold was smiling deviously and nodding. My world, however, was becoming a selection of pictures. The man's grin, the Counselor's wide eyes, the faces of the compound all looking at me, and the priest pushing slowly through the crowd. He slipped the cloth over his shoulders, his Bible in his hand, and I was shoved closer. They were going to marry me off now? Now!
"Please, no," I begged. "I have two more days."
Reynold shrugged, looking entirely too pleased. "There are consequences for your actions, child. I may have to beat it out of you, but trust me, you will learn."
"I will hit back," I warned him, desperate for some way to keep control.
Those words had worked before, so maybe they would again? If nothing else, it was the best I had. Women were supposed to be meek, but maybe if they thought I was violent then they'd put me in quarantine? Or should I be shouting about the Devil to make that happen? I just didn't know.
Mr. Saunders lifted an eyebrow at my weak taunt, then slapped me. Unlike Peter Morgan, this man hit hard. I gasped, feeling the pain of the impact, then surged towards him, but the people holding my shoulders stopped me. With a scream, I tried to struggle free, but no amount of wrenching or twisting would break their grasp. That was when the priest started intoning the words.
Even as I squirmed, the priest anointed my head, then did the same to Reynold. What he didn't do was ask if I agreed. No, he merely listed my duties to my husband, his duties to me, and paused to ask Mr. Saunders if he agreed to this wedding. When the old man nodded, the priest then declared us wed. The crowd was given my new name: Mrs. Saunders.
Reynold was told he could kiss his bride, and the people around us all laughed like it was some great joke.
I was held by two men, pinned between them like a prisoner - which was all too accurate. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get away, so I slung my head from side to side. I would not kiss him. I would not be dutiful!
My new husband stepped forward, grabbed my jaw in a vise-like grip, and shoved his lips against mine. I froze for a moment in shock, then gave up. It hadn't worked. I was married. I was out of options. There was nothing I could do to end my nightmare, except…
Laughing like all of this was the best joke the men in the compound had ever seen, the man to my right loosened his grip slightly. It was just enough.
Moving as fast as I could, faster than I ever had before, I surged forward. Pulling my arm free, I reached for the only weapon I could see. It was just a fork, nothing exceptionally lethal, but Sun Tzu whispered in my mind: "Invincibility lies in the defense; the possibility of victory in the attack." I just needed to attack to win. I didn't want to kill anyone - I just wanted this nightmare to be over!
One way or another, I would be free of the misery of this life. It was the only hope I had left.
My hand wrapped around the metal handle, and I plunged it deep into my new husband's arm. The tines pierced his aging muscles as easily as it did the meat we ate at every holiday meal.
Reynold Saunders screamed.
ThirteenAyla
Someone grabbed my hair. Someone else gripped my arm. I couldn't even count the number of people who were clinging to me, but my husband wasn't one of them. My eyes wouldn't focus, and it took me a moment to realize the reason: tears. I hadn't let myself cry in years, but it was all I had left. Part of me was relieved, part was terrified, but I'd done it. I'd broken the sixth commandment, or tried to.
"Ayla Ross," Mr. Cassidy was yelling, "you are unfit! The Righteous do not raise their hand against another man. You are no longer welcome here! For your sins, you will be judged by God."
"Thank you, God," I breathed. "Thank you. Thank you!"
"Strip her and chain her out for the Dragons!"
I wasn't sure who said it, but everyone was willing to obey. It was as if some kind of madness descended upon the mass in the compound. The crowd began pulling everything from my body. Someone yanked off my shoes, another went for the laces of my dress. In desperation, I clenched both hands into tight fists, but it didn't stop them. It did, however, let me feel the bite of metal around my smallest finger.
The same piece of metal that had been my mother's talisman was now mine. It was all I had left, and while the Righteous stripped me before the entire compound, I tried to focus on the feel of it. Thankfully, no one attempted to pry my hands open.
Within minutes, I stood in the middle of the dining room in my thin chemise, clutching my arms over my breasts to hide the underthings, which must have shown through. My captors still held me as tightly as ever, making it impossible to maintain dignity. The next thing I knew, two men walked up holding a pair of metal cuffs. Both of them were hunters, and both looked ready to leave the compound. I recognized one a little too well.
The taller man, Jamison, wore a black leather shirt. He was the man I'd considered marrying. The one who was courting another girl. Beside him was a shorter guy, Phineas, who wore a dark, padded vest. When they placed the shackles around my wrists, they weren't gentle. A long chain joined the shackles together, and Phineas grabbed the length of it while Jamison moved behind me. Without another word, they dragged me towards the exit.
"I don't have any shoes," I said, looking between them. "I need shoes."
"You should've thought about that before you assaulted a man," Jamison said.
Phineas chuckled. "Yep, the Dragons are gonna love this. Can't remember the last time they got a sacrifice."
"Been a while," Jamison agreed. "She'll have to last the night, though. They only come out during the day."
I took all of that in. They weren't sending me to quarantine. No, I'd been banished to the surface. I was being cast out to deal with the heathens, wild men, and Dragons. My fate would be to survive amongst the minions of Hell, but his words gave me hope.
I simply needed to be in hiding when the sun came out. That shouldn't be too hard. Well, so long as I made it through the night. Maybe I'd become a wild woman and follow the corruption of the Devil? It couldn't exactly be worse than living with the Righteous in the compound, could it? And if the wild people were, I was sure the wilderness couldn't be too bad. Even death was better than life here.
Jamison chuckled sardonically. "The Wyvern will probably slice her into bits and leave her on our door."
That made my head snap around. "He's here?"
"He sometimes prowls outside the compound," Jamison assured me.
Phineas nodded emphatically. "Hard to miss with the bright blue tail. When you see that one, just give up. He'll kill you. The others? They might just play with you."
Jamison tugged at my arms. "Serves you right, trying to act like a man. Attacking someone!"
"I told them I didn't want to get married."
