Rejection (The Mate Games 2)

ChapterForty-Six

CALEB

The uneven stone floor cut into the bare skin of my knees as I knelt in front of the cross in my purification room. I hadn’t even started, and already my weakness was getting the better of me.

Usually the ritual of entering this chamber was enough to quiet my mind so I could focus on my punishment, but not tonight. Tonight my thoughts raced with Sunday. Whether that was because I’d been negligent in my absolution or because of what I’d just learned, I wasn’t sure. Only that it was true. This time, punishment wasn’t a choice. It was a requirement. Ineededto purge the sin from my veins.

“Pregnant,” I whispered. “You fool of a sinner. How could you do this to her?”

As a man, I knew better than to be so stupid. I was supposed to take measures to ensure my woman was cared for. Protected in all things. Yet when it mattered most, I’d managed to forget the most basic way of doing it...

But she wasn’t my woman. She couldn’t be. Somehow, my heart and mind were at odds. I’d succumbed to the moment and lost myself. Lost hold of the convictions and vows that made me who I was—who I thought I was destined to be.

A small voice in the back of my mind offered up a tiny piece of hope.What if your destiny is not what you thought? What ifsheis your destiny?

I snuffed it out before it could catch fire within me. I couldn’t afford to entertain the idea even for a second. I’d seen countless priests fall in love, leave the priesthood, marry and go on to live their days out with the woman they found. But I wasn’t a priest any longer. I hadn’t been for decades. The simple truth was, I wasn’t even a man. I was a monster. One of the damned. I didn’t deserve her. But even still, I’d managed to taint her with my seed. Leave my abomination growing inside her.

Even now, just the memory of her heat around the crown of my cock, milking me, begging me to sink deeper, had that familiar ache building between my legs.

“No,” I snarled, flicking my hand and sending the weighted ends—silver-tipped this time—of the flogger flying into my back. I hissed in pain, the burn offering no edge of pleasure.

Over and over, I rained lashes across my skin until blood ran between the grooves of the stones in the floor and the only scent in the room was my shame.

I was ruthless, striking not only my back and shoulders but my thighs and calves as well, going far longer than usual until I couldn’t maintain my grip on the blood-slick leather handle. It fell to the ground as I drew in ragged breath after ragged breath. Unfortunately, my mind was nowhere near closer to calm or repentant. Her lips, plump and parted, flashed across my vision every time I closed my eyes. The wanton sound of her voice calling out my name rang out in my ears, the melody of a favorite song. Lilacs, freshly picked and dipped in rich honey, filled my nose, overtaking the tang of my own blood.

I was consumed by her, the method of my destruction, the beautiful instrument of damnation, the sin I couldn’t help but commit.

And now... the mother of my unborn child.

I pushed myself to my feet, leaving my flogger forgotten in the rapidly cooling pool of my blood. I stumbled over to the stool by the base of the stairs, moaning as I slid my trousers over my ravaged skin.

I should leave Ravenscroft. For my own sanity. For her safety. For my soul. But now, there was more at stake. They couldn’t find out about the babe. Not until I knew more. I needed to talk to the Seer, find out if she had any information about what this meant for the prophecy.

As soon as the intention crystallized, a now all-too-familiar burn seared into my chest, ringing out a cry from my lips as I fell to my knees on the staircase I’d been limping up.

No.

No. No. No. No. No.

Four. Four fecking seals were open while I’d done nothing to stop them. That was more than half, and they were breaking faster with each one.

A scream of pure rage tore from my throat as I got to my feet and headed for the cool night outside in search of the only person who could’ve opened another seal.

Ignoring the pain surging through my body and the agony tearing through me with each step, I raced off into the night. It was as if my heart knew exactly where to find her because I ran without thought, not slowing or stopping my steps until I approached the clearing. The heart hammering in my chest was an unsettling sensation, but the feel of it grew stronger the closer I drew to her.

“Alek!” Her cry of the Viking’s name had me moving faster, breaking through the treeline and stepping into utter carnage.

It only took a quick scan to put together what was happening. Alek’s eyes were bottomless pits of black, his already massive form rippling with the infused strength of his heritage. But even if I hadn’t recognized it, the pile of desecrated bodies scattered at his feet was testament to the truth.

Berserker.

It should have been an impossibility. The legendary warriors had died out. His existence could only mean one thing.

He was the fourth seal.

A blond man who matched Alek in stature stepped out of a portal, the same flickers of lightning flashing in his own inky gaze.

“Aleksandr.” His rich, accented voice held pure authority and heartache as he uttered the name.