Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 121153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Then it did.
“You have to be fuckin’ kiddin’ me!”
Harmony flinched. I looked up to see Ky shaking his head, combing back his long hair in frustration. He pointed at his wife. “You wanna know why Li’s face is scarred? Ask the sadistic cunt that brought you here.” Harmony’s face paled. “You wanna know why me and my wife—your sister—might not be able to have kids? Why Li can hardly walk because of surgery to try and fix that shit? Ask that fuckin’ rapist bastard that fuckin’ brought you here.” Harmony’s gaze fell to Lilah, whose head was bowed in embarrassment. “Ask your fucked-up cunt of a man about how he kidnapped Mae and tried to force her to marry him. Ask him about how he captured Li and allowed her to be burned and gang raped by his prick of a twin and his pencil-dicked friends. Ask him about his fuckin’ insane obsession with Mae, only to fuckin’ turn up with you, her fuckin’ mirror image! And how—”
“Ky! Enough!” Lilah shouted and struggled to get up off the floor. She winced and hissed through her teeth as she straightened. But she swallowed her pain when she saw that all eyes were on her. She turned to her husband. “Stop. We have just got our sister back. A miracle.” She shook her head. “So just . . . stop.” She seemed exhausted.
I felt like the piece of shit Ky thought I was.
Harmony stepped slowly toward me. Her bottom lip was trembling and her watery eyes were searching mine. “Rider?” she whispered. I ducked my head. I was ashamed. So fucking ashamed.
Taking a long inhale, I looked back into her beautiful ice-blue eyes and said, “It’s all true. Everything they said . . . I did. I did it all.”
Harmony’s face contorted in agony and she shook her head. Tears spilled from her eyes. “No, I do not believe it. You would never do all those evil things. The man I have grown to know, he would never do it. He has a kind and pure heart . . . he brought me back to my sisters. He saved me from an unwanted marriage. Turned on his own flesh and blood for the greater good . . . for the sake of my happiness, a woman he has not known long at all.”
Her words were a punch to the stomach. Because I wanted so badly to be the man she believed me to be. I wanted to explain everything in great detail, to tell her why it all happened, how it all happened. But I knew there was never an excuse for what had been done to not just the sisters here, but too many more to count. Including the Hangmen themselves. I had let it all happen. I was the prophet, but allowed things to transpire in my name without my knowledge. I had been a fucking sorry excuse for a leader, burying my head in the sand when shit got hard.
I had left the rulings to a delusional wannabe-God. That fault lied with me. I was as guilty as all sin. Maybe not directly, but in my eyes, that only made it worse.
“Rider,” Harmony pushed me to answer, her hands clutched together in desperation, in a prayer position at her chest.
“I did it,” I blurted again, more forcefully this time. I heard the conviction loud and clear in my voice. There would be no mistaking my truth.
“No,” Harmony argued, shaking her head again. A sob left her throat and she stepped forward. Her hand landed on my chest, and I had to turn my head away when I saw the wedding band on her finger, the symbol of my vow to her, shining up at me in the harsh security lights. This was worse than anything Ky could do to me. That ring mocked me, taunted me with what I wished I could have gained—a love without shame or consequence. And a wife that I could love without guilt. “You did marry an evil man, Harmony—”
“Bella,” she interrupted, her voice raw. I closed my eyes for a brief second, unable to stand the growing hint of pain and betrayal in her tone. “My true name is Bella.”
My heart tore. “Bella,” I rasped. I opened my eyes. “You did marry the prophet, the true prophet. One that was just as guilty and fucked up as the alternative you feared most.”
“Rider—”
“Cain.” That name felt like vinegar on my tongue, but I forced myself to finish what I wanted to say. “I am Cain, no matter how much we’ve pretended I wasn’t. I’ve done fucked-up things, unforgiveable things . . . We have talked of Judah like he was the only guilty party in The Order. Like I am nothing like him . . . but I am. We are cut from the same cloth, made of the same blood and soul. The evil that lives within him crawls in me too. We just pretended otherwise.”