Page 103 of Intolerable Bishop

“I just want you to know that no matter what…no matter what happens, or what they do to you, don’t think that I won’t love you or want you. Please don’t push me away. I know you’ll think you’re protecting me, and… promise me you won’t.”

Gently pushing her hair behind her ear, I cupped her face and ran my thumb over her cheek. “Ya really are as rare and unique as any snowflake that falls like tiny diamonds in the sky.”

She smiled wide and gave me a little laugh, some of the worry fading. “Are you ripping off Rhianna now?”

“A poet never reveals his sources.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not when that saying is to be used,” she said, her eyebrow pulling up into her patented all-sass look. “Now, promise me. I know you won’t break your promises, and I need to hear the words.”

I sighed. “Aye, you know me well.” I held up my pinky, and she locked hers with mine. “I promise to come home and not push ya away again, no matter what. I swear it on me ma’s grave.”

Leaning in, Ren touched her lips to mine. “I love you, Myles McCoy.”

Bang, Bang, Bang.

I jerked back from the noise, grasping at the air in front of me to try and hold onto the image of Ren. And then everything was silent. The deafening quiet was worse than the recording, and my heart pounded for what was next. The click and thud against the box announced the lid opening before the rush of fresh air hit me. I sucked in a gasping breath as multiple hands grabbed me and pulled me out. The sudden brightness was blinding as my feet dragged against the floor, and I was hauled toward something wooden.

With a hard shove, I landed headfirst in ice water, screaming and jerking as my sore, stiff muscles tightened further and shocked my entire system. Every nerve ending burned as hot as fire, scorching my skin while simultaneously freezing in place. Hands yanked my head up, and water spewed from my mouth as I coughed and sucked in a small breath before being shoved back under. As I was pulled up again, my head was tilted back, and I stared at a red mask shrouded by a matching hood. He held a massive book with a skull sitting on top.

Is this real?

“Today, you are reborn. Reborn into a family that is not only tied by blood but something much stronger. Bonds that can’t be broken, loyalties that will never fade. Only in death will your ties to the Ord na Rithe be severed,” he said. I knew I should know the voice, but every word was like a knife to my brain as I shivered uncontrollably. “Get him out.”

More hooded figures appeared, stepping out of the shadows like monsters looming and waiting to pounce. Hands gripped me and hauled my mostly naked body from the wooden tub. Water ran in streams to the floor from my head to the black shorts they’d left on me.

I’d been in this room once before, a long time ago when Da brought me in to show me around. It had been a fun experience then. Now, the black candles, whips, and knives that surrounded the dais with a girl strapped to it held all my fears. I was dropped at the foot of the raised platform. My legs couldn’t hold me up, and I buckled. Laying with my face against the stone, I stared around the room at black boots and red capes that brushed against the floor.

“Get up.” A voice snarled beside my ear. I knew this voice. I’d heard it in my nightmares my whole life. Rolling my eyes up to the mask my da wore, I could feel the anger and hatred without even seeing his face. “I said get up.” Grabbing a fist full of my hair, he yanked my head off the stone.

“Up, up, up,” the room chanted, the sound echoing in the cavernous space.

Da pulled harder, and I winced as I tried to move my arms—which I could hardly feel—to push myself up. It seemed to take forever to get on my feet, and I kept expecting a kick to the gut for taking so long to stand, but it never came, and I wobbled as I pulled myself upright.

The girl lying on the dais was wearing all white, the dress as old-fashioned and archaic as the rest of this. She was gagged, her limbs strapped down with heavy leather, and a black cloth was over her eyes. Even though she couldn’t see, it was easy to tell how terrified she was as her chest rose and fell at a rapid pace.

The chanting stopped, and as it did, a man who I suspected was Lawrence walked toward me with the same book and skull. His other hand held a silver knife with a wickedly twisted blade.

“Make me a promise,” Ren said, sucking in a deep breath.

“Aye, for you, I’d do anything.”

“If it comes down to you or them, and you have the opportunity to kill them…do it. We’ll figure out the repercussions but don’t ever bow down to them. You’re better than they ever could dream of becoming.”

Ren’s words played through my mind, my eyes trained on the blade. Aye, my Snowflake, if it comes to it, I’ll tear my way out of this place to get back to you.

“Hold out your hand.”

I held it out and watched how it shook in the candlelight. Anyone just seeing this would’ve said I was terrified. But I was no longer scared of anything other than something happening to Ren. They could do what they wanted to me, and I would die with her voice in my head and her love in my heart.

Lawrence cut my palm, and the robed man I knew to be my da held out a silver chalice. I put my hand over it, watching my blood drip into the cup. Lawrence pulled a white cloth out from inside his robe like a magician and held it between his fingers for me to take. I wrapped my hand as he dabbed his fingers into the chalice and began to draw symbols on my face. This was not what we were. We were not some secret society. We were mafia and had been for generations. The book Lawrence held had warped his power-hungry nature. Twisting it and this council into something that looked like it belonged in the Dark Ages or at a cult ritual. This was why I didn’t long for things like power. It always turned into something dark that ate at a brain like a worm until there was nothing left but rot.

Once he was finished, the knife was taken away, and Lawrence held his hand out toward the girl. “This is your final task. Take her and then kill her. Once your task is complete, you will officially become a King.”

I was already a king, just not one of theirs, and I never would be. I looked at Lawrence and then around at the others before locking eyes with my father, who would’ve been the one to choose my final task. I hated him. The pieces that he’d killed in me were already too much. I’d never let him carve more from my soul.

“No.”

There was a soft collective gasp, but no one moved.