The Church (The Cloister Trilogy 3)

My heart sinks into an acid vat, bubbling and blistering as he tries to warn me away from a destiny that’s already written in stone. “I have to be there.”

“Why?”

I clutch him closer to me, afraid of losing him, afraid of so much. But I can’t lie. Not now. “Because I’m supposed to marry the senator at the service that day.”

He pulls me away from him, his dark eyes burning into me. “You can’t marry him.”

I shake my head, my eyes watering again. “I have to.”

“No.” He grips my arms. “No way.”

“I don’t have any other choice. The Prophet has my mom. I can’t fight this place from within. I have to do it from outside. Maybe if I can convince Evan—”

“Convince him of what?” His voice is tight, and he’s straining to keep it down. “He’s not someone that can be reasoned with.”

“I have to try. It’s my only chance to stop the Prophet. I’m going to use Evan, to turn him against Heavenly.”

“How do you intend to sway him, Emily?” Fire rages in his eyes, his body tense. “What are you going to use to do that?”

Shame flames in my cheeks, but I tell him the truth. “I’ll have to give him what he wants.”

He presses his forehead to mine, his hands clutching me close. “He wants you, Emily. He wants to break you in half and suck out your fucking marrow. That’s the kind of man he is.”

“I know.” My voice shakes. “But it’s the only way.”

“No.”

“It’s already decided. It’s over, Adam.” I press my palm to his cheek. “I’m marrying him on Sunday. And I’ll do what I have to do to turn him to our side.”

“I’ll die before I let you go to him.” He grits his teeth.

“I want you alive.” Tears slide across the bridge of my nose. “Away from here. You deserve so much more than this life. You deserve love, a family, a place to call your own.”

“I only want those things with you.” He puts his hand over mine. “I love you.”

Everything inside me tears apart at his solemn words. I want him so badly, and I want the life I described. The two of us, free from the Prophet’s web. But it can’t happen. We were doomed from the moment we saw each other. Nothing can flourish under the Prophet’s harsh sun.

“I love you, too.” I let the words spill out. Freeing, yet somehow a prison.

Those words tie us to each other, even when we’re about to be ripped apart. He pulls me into his arms, crushing me to him. I feel his brand on my heart, scorching my soul. Letting him go is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But I have to. It’s the only chance I have to save him.

“I won’t let this happen,” he whispers in my ear. “I love you too much. It won’t happen.”

It’s already done. I hold onto him, wishing our love could stop the inevitable.

A faint knock at the bathroom door shatters the quiet.

“Fuck.” He kisses my forehead, down my nose, and to my lips. “It’s time.”

I kiss him with all the heart I have left, and I hope he feels my seal on his heart, my promise that I will always love him, no matter what happens. It’s all I can give. And I offer myself to him freely. His little lamb. I will gladly sacrifice myself to save him, to give him a future, and to watch Heavenly burn.

Chapter 20

Grace

Night cloaks me as I creep into the main house and hurry to the metal door in the basement. Castro waits inside, the tip of his cigarette glowing orange in the dark.

“What?” He leans against the wall, nonchalant even though his greatest enemy is just above us. If we were caught down here, the Prophet would kill us both.

I stand next to him, so close I can smell the stale cigar smoke in his dark hair. “Noah took Adam. He’s no longer at the Chapel.”

He glances at me. “How do you know?”

“Noah told me.”

“Why?”

“He needed a favor.” My blood boils at what I had to give up just to get this information. That whore Delilah spending time at Noah’s house. I have no doubt she warmed Adam’s bed, spread her legs and gave him whatever he wanted. That’s all she has to offer anyone—her freak pussy.

“Anything else?”

I nod. “The Chapel traitors are planning something for Sunday. I don’t know what, but it could interfere with our plans.”

“We’re moving forward no matter what. The time has come. The Father of Fire has told her—” he glances at the ceiling, as if he can see Rachel through the timbers. “The time is now, and it must happen on a holy day. This Sunday. What have you heard about the Chapel whores?”

“Nothing specific, but Chastity has been visiting more frequently.” I shake my head. “She thinks I don’t know. What a twit. Of course I know. She even chanced a visit to the Cathedral two days ago to speak with Ruth. It’s something big. I can feel it.”