If you stare at the moon long enough, it starts to look like an escape hatch.
But no matter how many wishes you fling at it, no one's coming to save you.
The door slammed open before sunrise.
Blythe sat up like a spring-loaded toy. "What's happening?"
I, on the other hand, didn't move. Movement meant interest. Interest meant you were still playing by their rules. I'd long since stopped playing.
Two sisters entered with flashlights. It was Sister Emilienne and the favorite horror of my nightmares, Sister Madeliene. They were dressed in their black habits, that is, their horrible frowns.
"Number Six," Madeliene barked.
Blythe gasped. "Rose…"
"I heard," I snapped quietly, even though I knew this wasn't her fault.
Just couldn't help but take it out on something.
My bones were already stiff from the cold as I sat up. "Didn't even get breakfast first, huh?"
Madeliene ignored the jab. "Come on, dress up. Now."
She threw a bundle onto my bed, which was white… again. Of course. It was always the color of lies.
I slipped out of bed and into the stiff cotton. My hands were shaking a little. Not out of fear but rage. Okay, maybe a little bit of fear too.
I knew the bastard had chosen me. And I knew this meant I was no longer stock. I was merchandise in delivery.
.
.
The hallway was darker than usual. There were no fake roses or other girls. What was present with me was the click of the sisters' shoes echoing like gunfire across the stone floor as they led me on.
"This isn't protocol," I muttered.
"Protocols are for the unchosen," said Sister Emilienne flatly.
Oh, wow.
We passed the prayer hall and turned into a corridor I'd never seen before. There were no statues of saints here. Just stone walls and one long, red rug that looked like a tongue stretching down the corridor and waiting to swallow me whole.
At the end of it was a door.
Sister Madeliene knocked once, paused, and opened it.
Inside was a drawing room. The kind you find in a royal estate. There was a roaring fire, armchairs, and walls lined with old books and weapons in glass cases.
Wait… w-weapons?
Whoever this man was, he was definitely not a priest. He was sitting in one of the chairs like those big bosses commanding billions.
Even though he was backlit by fire, I knew it was him. The man from the selection room.
It wasn't just because he hadn't bothered to look at the sisters or because he was wearing a black suit with a shirt open at the neck like he didn't need collars or manners. But because the second I stepped in, my body screamed.
Run.
My legs didn't listen. His eyes flicked to me. They were the shiniest shades of gold I had ever set my eyes upon.
I didn't know his name and didn't need to. Men like that didn't need names. They needed leashes… something to cut their wings off with.
"Leave us," he said without looking at the nuns.
They obeyed instantaneously. Of course they did.
He gave me a once-over. "You didn't pray this morning."
Holy shit… what?
He heard that? He heard my muttered prayer from behind the glass? How on earth was that possible?
"Y-you heard that?" I couldn't help but to blurt.
He merely met my gaze, causing my knees to wobble, before he broke the trance.
"You're not what I expected."
"You're not what I wanted."
He smirked and stood slowly.
Gods, he was tall. Everything about him said danger… but not the drunk-stepfather kind. Not that small, pathetic violence. This was cold and calculated. A man who could kill you politely and leave no fingerprints.
He walked toward me with the kind of control you only see in apex predators.
"Do you know what I am, Rose?"
'What' he was? Did he mean 'Who'?
I scoffed. "I've got a pretty good guess. You're the reason no girl ever comes back from Selection Day."
"Smart girl."
And then, his hand came up slowly as if he was testing a slab of meat at a butchery.
I didn't flinch because I had already anticipated this. I knew this day would come. A day when I'd be selected, but God help me, I never knew my fate would be this terrible.
A breeder.
He brushed my jaw with two fingers. "Sharp edges, bleeding soul… yes. You'll do."
"For what?"
"Breeding," he said simply.
I stared him down. "Then you're going to need a better pitch."
He stepped closer, so close I could smell him. Man smelled like leather, spice, and fur. Again, if that made sense.
Nothing currently did, frankly.
"My kind doesn't ask," he said softly.
"Then you picked the wrong girl."
He tilted his head. "I don't think so. Your file says you're a fighter."
I smiled. "That file also say I can bite?"
His grin turned savage. "Try it."
I raised a brow. "Don't tempt me."
There was a moment of silence. Tension licked up my spine like static. Then he reached into his coat and pulled out a necklace.
It was silver and had a strange symbol on the pendant: a half-moon and a fang. He dropped it into my palm.
"What is this?"
"A token. You'll wear it."
"Or what?"
He bent toward me until his lips were a breath from my ear. I shuddered at the proximity. What the heck was wrong with me?
"Wear it or I'll come get it back. Personally. I mean, unless you don't mind seeing me again."
He pulled away just as I nearly punched him. Was that a threat? 'Wear the necklace if you don't want to see me again'?
I watched him turn to the fireplace, hands intertwined behind him, and said, "She leaves tonight."
I gasped. "Wait. What…?"
"You're not staying in the convent," he provided. "You're coming with me."
"No. That wasn't the deal. I thought I'd be... trained or whatever. Prepped."
"You're already trained. You survived this place. That's enough."
The sisters reentered silently like ghosts. They didn't meet my eyes.
"Pack her things. We leave by nightfall." He commanded.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
He finally looked at me with a little interest. "Home."
Then, just like that, he walked out.
Sister Madeliene didn't even look at me. She just held out her hand. "Come."
Come, like I was a dog.
I ignored her hand and walked past her. My bare feet dragged along the rug as I made my way back into the cold hallway. I didn't even look back. If I had, I was sure I'd see him again.
That shadow. That monster.
***********
Later that night, I was led to a black SUV parked at the edge of the convent's gate. No other girls watched. No one waved me goodbye. I sat in the back seat next to a man who didn't blink, smile, and definitely had this weird, overpowering aura.
He was so grumpy that he didn't speak for the first twenty minutes. But I did.
"I'm not a grumpy ass." I began, but he gave no replies to me.
"I don't care who you are, or how important you think your bloodline is that you need a virgin breeder. You touch me without my consent, and I'll neuter you."
He finally spoke, and when he did, it came with so much audacity. "I don't want your consent."
I swiveled toward him in pure stupefaction.
He added, "I want your loyalty. Consent comes later, or it doesn't. That's up to you."
W-what the hell did he just say? Did he mean he was going to touch me with or without my consent? As in… rape me?
My jaw hung open, and for the first time since the frying pan incident, I felt real fear.
Because he wasn't joking. And worse… A sick part of me wanted to see what he meant. As if I were looking forward to it. To him.