Page 41 of Sweet Surrender
That last sentence was said in even less than a whisper.
Fuck, Knight thought, heart pounding.
“We’re not even allowed to work, at least not regular jobs. Not a place where they don’t have eyes and ears on you. I knew, with the semi-freedom I had while I was at Uni, it would be the only opportunity I had to leave. Behind my parents’ backs, I got a job; I lied that I was spending more time on my schoolwork. Saved up every penny. The moment I graduated, I didn’t go back. I simply disappeared. Then they found me.” Saint’s heart gave a little jolt at the last sentence.
Knight watched him stare at the dog. His hands were clenched on his thighs, though Knight didn’t think he was aware of it. His heart was beating loud and hard, and his scent had gone acrid at the memories.
Saint’s last sentence nagged until Knight realised. Saint had broken free, and now he had members of the church after him.
Like sentries.
“I ran,” Saint continued, “They found me again. The first time, I dismissed it as simply a threat, a “don’t you dare badmouth our community, or else”. The second time, I wasn’t so sure. The third—” Saint shook his head. “I don’t know why they keep chasing me. I don’t know what they want.”
“They want you back,” Knight said simply.
Saint’s throat bobbed with a swallow. Knight reached out, taking one of those clenched hands into his own, holding it until it softened.
“Nicquiris aren’t allowed to leave most sects back in Hell,” he whispered. “When we do, sentries of the sect are sent after us to bring us back. It might not be exactly the same, but I think the reason your church won’t leave you alone is the same reason sentries are sent after runaway nicquiris. We bring them power, and when we leave, we affect their natural order. We make others think they can leave, too.”
Saint inhaled shakily, blinking rapidly. “Right. Fuck. That makes sense. It’s just—it’s beenthreeyears since the last time, you know? I guess I got comfortable. I thought I was safe—I thought I could finally—”
Knight stood before he’d realised he was doing so.
Saint’s head jerked up. “Knight?”
Saint’s eyes were wet, his expression twisted with anguish. But more than his pain, it was the sight and scent of his bone-deep fatigue that made Knight’s fangs and claws itch.
“Where is this church—this ... community?” he growled.
Back in Hell, Knight had felt powerless. There’d been fuck all he could do to fight back against his sect, against fuckingsentries. And even though he’d wanted the freedom to choose how he lived after his escape, he’d been afraid to say anything to Ammon or his fellow nicquiris, not wanting to lose his newfoundcommunity and support. And what had happened? Ammon had ended up banishing him anyway.
He’d been powerless then. Voiceless.
But out here?
“What?” Saint stood as well. He glanced quickly at the dog when it jerked in its sleep. They froze, but the dog didn’t move again. Saint looked at him, whispering harshly, “We’re not going after them.”
“Why sit here, twiddling our thumbs and waiting for their next move instead of going straight for the throat?”
“I don’t want to hurt anybody,” Saint insisted stubbornly.
Knight scoffed. “Want to try that again?”
Saint clenched and unclenched his fists. “Fine. Yes, I dream of making them as afraid and isolated as they’ve made me—I dream of them going through this shit, forcing them to feel everything they’ve made me feel practically my entire life but only because I’m tired and I’m furious, and I would never do that in real life. That would make me just as bad as them.”
“No, them doing this shit to someone innocent is what’s bad. You retaliating will be giving them exactly what they deserve.”
Saint shook his head rapidly. “The dog wasmymistake. They’ve only ever tortured me; I didn’t think they’d notice or care about anything else—I didn’t think they were watching so closely that they’d know how important h-he was to me—”
“Saint.” Knight scooped him back into his arms. At first, he remained stiff, breathing shakily.
Eventually, his breathing steadied, and he relaxed. “I just want to be left alone, Knight. I just want to be leftalone,” he repeated, soft, heart wrenching.
Knightached. He wanted to kill every single person responsible. He wanted to torture them first, make them feel everything Saint had felt since they’d started this psychologicaltorture, then watch them slowly bleed out by his feet. Almighty, he just wanted todosomething.
Saint pulled back, meeting his eyes. “Promise me you won’t hurt any of them,” he said insistently. “If they come again—if you, by some chance, catch them, just—do what you did with the other guy and make them leave me alone. I don’t want you to hurt anyone.”
Knight clenched his jaw.
