Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 137871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 689(@200wpm)___ 551(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 689(@200wpm)___ 551(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
This was not what their music resembled on the farm. Not at all. And Adriel had a hard time categorizing it as better or worse. The panoramic contrasts were too broad for her mind to measure, so rather than judge it one way or another, she simply observed the effect it had on Juniper and laughed.
“You’re possessed.”
“Girl,” she laughed. “I’ve never felt more free! Hold on tight.” Gripping the wheel, the wild witch veered onto a ramp that led to a massive thoroughfare with multiple lanes.
Adriel’s eyes widened as the dials rose with their speed.
“Nothing beats fast cars and the right song!” Juniper yelled, pressing a button to lower the glass.
Wind filled the car, and Juniper’s tangled hair whipped toward Adriel as the witch laughed like a lunatic. The vehicle whizzed beyond the traffic, and they burst onto an open road, zipping past the trees. For a moment, it felt like they were flying.
How? How was the girl so happy when she had been a captive for years, lived in dark squalor, grieved the death of her entire family, and survived the countless inquisitions of the elders?
She recalled the marks she spotted on the witch’s neck, confident whoever bit her did not have her consent. Their laws forbade them from feeding off the unwilling, and the bishop would never have permitted such a crime. Only in extreme emergencies were exceptions made.
Abusing a helpless, shackled witch who had been promised sanctuary in The Council’s care was a moral crime. But was it sanctuary when the poor girl had been placed in bondage, tortured with fire, and held underwater? In the light of day such practices seemed excruciatingly cruel.
Shame filled Adriel as she tried to justify her silence. Females were not permitted to interfere with council business. She would have been disciplined if she tried to interfere or speak on the witch’s behalf.
Juniper had committed crimes of her own, which was why she’d been placed in a cell. The Order justified her treatment by labeling it merciful because they spared her life. As accurate as all those pieces were, looking back on the whole picture provided a different view, one ripe with inhumane offenses and gross abuses of power.
The more removed Adriel became from The Order, the more extreme those events seemed. How had she just sat there? She should have intercepted and done something. But she’d done absolutely nothing, and guilt now clawed at her in a way that marked her partially responsible for those horrific crimes.
The woman was entitled to rage, yet she showed an inexplicable resilience Adriel could only admire. How did she compartmentalize her anger? It was there, but it also made room for other emotions. Was this how she survived the past few years? Most females would have broken, but the witch was solid—slightly cracked, perhaps—but somehow holding it together.
In the presence of Juniper’s strong spirit, it was easy to contrast their differences. Beliefs that females should be gentle and obedient shifted the direction of Adriel’s life long ago.
In exchange for The Order’s protection, she and many other females allowed themselves to become less. The males held all the power.
After centuries of living such a sheltered life, fearful that her mate would one day find her, she became a shadow. Her potential was stunted like a rootbound plant in a small pot with nowhere to grow, and many of her natural disciplines were lost to disuse.
Was she truly only meant to be half of another’s soul? She always sensed she was capable of more, yet without a male, so many saw her as nothing at all. There was even a time when the elders tried to assign her to a husband to keep her on the right path in her mate’s absence. But she refused to be led and paid dearly for the little independence she gained.
Drawing back from such a dangerous thought, she frowned.
Centuries of indoctrination still filled her with nervous energy. Being outside of The Order placed her life in an unflattering light. Ashamed by her lack of independence, knowledge, and confidence, she considered how one might correct such inadequacies while Juniper displayed no such shortcomings.
The witch still wore the physical markings of her bondage, yet Adriel was the one shackled by oppression. The moment Juniper was free, she was free. Could Adriel say the same? Perhaps freedom was so unknown that it was part of her fear, and ignorance was her greatest prison.
Mortified, she wondered what ingrained compliance still limited her now. She was as helpless as a domestic bird forced into the wild—defenseless, useless.
Tightness cinched her lungs as the world rushed by. It suddenly seemed so calculated.
She stayed and obeyed because she knew no other way to live. Her fear of the outside world worked in their favor, spreading like a disease from one generation to the next. The standards for trust and obedience were so ingrained that even the slightest ripple of rebellion could feel like a tsunami of an uprising. All the more reason why The Order demanded conformity.