Her Rebellion (The Rite Trilogy 2)

I try to fight them off. I try to keep them at bay with a large stick, but just like all the other times, I am no match. One by one, they pounce on me and tear at my flesh, eating me alive until there’s nothing left but my frail, beating heart.

“Vivid dreams,” a voice murmurs around me. “Side effect.”

I strain to hear the rest, but suddenly, I’m pulled back into my father’s office as if through a vortex. Back to a time when I decided it would be a good idea to show him I had a backbone. He seems larger than life in his deathly form. Looming over the desk as he leans forward, his face half eviscerated from the explosion, exposing his skull. When his arms move, he hovers closer to the ceiling, and black smoke curls around the room, suffocating the air.

Foolish little girl.His words reverberate through me, chilling me to the bone. And then, just as before, he’s dragging me to the chapel to mete out my punishment all over again.

The marble is so cold against my cheek when he tosses me down. I cry because it has to be real. But it’s the sound of him pulling his belt free that truly douses me in terror.

The leather slices into my skin, and I jolt, only to be slammed back down by his boot. And then he repeats it. Over and over. The violence has no end, and my tears won’t save me, even when my limbs start to fall apart, tearing at the seams.

“Please,” I beg.

“Bad girls go to hell!” he roars as the floor opens up to a fiery pit, and I’m falling, falling down to the depths of the inferno to burn for all of eternity.

“Mercedes, please.” Gentle fingers touch my face, and my eyelashes flutter, pulling me back from the clutches of my mind. “Wake up.”

I want to, but I’m still too afraid. And then I smell him. Warm spices and leather. I tell myself it isn’t safe. I can’t trust anyone. But when I feel his weight dipping against the bed next to me, I wish I could.

“Wake up.” His fingers move over my jaw, stroking my skin like he’s memorizing it. “I know you’re in there.”

My eyes flicker open gradually, and the bright sunlight stings, disorienting me. How long have I been in this bed? I try to move, and Judge’s warm breath blows across my lips as he stills me. He’s so close, lying right beside me, face-to-face. Dark circles color the skin beneath his eyes. Exhaustion hangs heavy in his features, but there’s relief there too.

“It’s okay now,” he murmurs. “I’m here with you.”

I wish I could believe him. When I blink, more tears come, and I’m so tired of crying. But Judge wipes them away with his thumbs, his body moving closer yet. His warmth penetrates me, and I don’t want to like it. I don’t want to be comforted by it. But I can’t bring myself to push him away. Not even when he drags his fingers over my lips like all he wants to do is kiss them, but he knows not to try.

“How long have I been here?” I croak.

“Days,” he answers with a solemn tone.

I don’t understand how that’s possible. I don’t remember sleeping for days. Or drinking. Or going to the bathroom. But I’m clean and in a fresh pair of pajamas when I glance down. And there’s an IV in my hand, the tube leading to a stand next to the bed.

“Have I woken?” I ask.

“At times.” Darkness flashes in his vision like he doesn’t want to recall those moments. “But we’ve been keeping you medicated. You may not remember.”

My eyes drift to his, and I find myself getting lost in them, wondering who he really is. Wondering what he hides from the world. Theron’s words are still fresh in my mind. You don’t know what he’s capable of.

“Why are you here?” I ask.

“Because.” He swallows painfully. “I can’t… leave you.”

I want to understand the emotion behind those words, but I can’t. Exhaustion is weighing me down again, pulling me under fast. Judge senses it, and he moves closer, brushing the hair away from my face before his palm settles on my waist.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, his words a sweet lullaby in my ear. “You can sleep now, little monster. I’ll watch over you. You’re safe with me now.”