Under His Rule (His 1)

The door opens. Light breaks into the hut. My breathing practically stops while my heart practically pounds out of my chest. The door closes again. I’m tempted to look up and see if they’re gone, but then I’d give myself away.

A few steps follow … and a voice. “I know you’re there.”

It’s him; Noah.

“You can come out now,” he says. I hesitate and wait a few more seconds. “No one is going to punish you, I promise.”

He probably won’t go away if I just stay here. After all, he found me here. How did he know? He must’ve asked people if they saw me, or maybe he followed me here. Dammit. I should’ve been more careful.

I slowly rise to my feet and stare at him. He sits down in a chair near the fireplace and taps his fingers against one another, almost as if he was expecting me to come here.

He beckons me to come closer. “C’mon. I won’t bite.”

I swallow away the lump in my throat and approach him, while also glancing at the door, wondering if I can make an escape. If I try, would the guards notice? Would Noah attempt to get me thrown back in that concrete cell again?

I shiver. Anything but that place.

“How did you …?” I mutter. I don’t even know what I want to ask. All I know is that I’m thoroughly dumbfounded.

“Find you?” he fills in for me. “Let’s just say I happened to be in the neighborhood.”

Why do I get the sense he’s not telling me the truth?

What if that woman noticed I was following her and warned Noah?

“Relax. I’m not a magician. I asked your fellow hut sisters. One of them saw you go in here.”

Well, shit. And here I was thinking my ducking out went unnoticed. I wonder which one of them spilled the beans. Emmy? Holly? Maybe even April? Who knows, they’d all tell if it meant avoiding punishment. That’s what this place does; it turns people against each other.

“What were you doing here?” he asks, his forehead creasing. “Looking for something?”

He knows. Of course he knows. Why wouldn’t he? He knows everything. They all know everything. It’s their place in this community to know, and for everyone else to tell them everything there is to know. Patriarchs serve to keep the rest under their thumb.

He’s just testing me.

“Where is that woman who entered this hut?” I ask.

He smiles. “I asked her to leave through the back door.”

Shit.

“That woman was just doing her job, and it’s none of your concern right now.”

Does that mean she wasn’t my mother? Did I imagine it all? Maybe I followed someone who doesn’t even know me.

“Come,” he says, beckoning me again.

I don’t know what compels me—the fear of what happens when I don’t, or the need to know more about him … and why he seems to know so much about me.

I step forward until I’m right in front of him, and he lifts his hand to make me stop. He inspects me from his chair in a way that makes me think of a buyer examining his purchase.

If he’s trying to intimidate me, it’s working.

He stands up and towers over me. With a single gaze hidden underneath thick lashes, he manages to make me tremble in place.

It’s not only because the power he holds, or because I might get information if I listen to him. It’s the way he presents himself … his rigid posture in that tight-fitting suit and his penetrating gaze that stares almost straight into my soul. All of it captures my attention and never lets it go. He has the kind of eyes that command submission, the kind you lose yourself in. And with a single touch to my cheek, he makes me bend to his will.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, his voice sultry, dark, and full of unspoken desire.

He caresses my cheek in a way that makes me forget about all the pain this community has given me. Like a drug, he poisons me with a craving I’ve never felt before.

He leans in, placing his lips against my ears. “I can’t wait to have you all to myself.”

A spark ignites in my soul. “Like all those other women?”

Our fiery eyes connect, seconds feeling like minutes.

“The ritual, you mean?” he muses. “It’s what the people want.”

“You wanted me to see it,” I say. “You wanted me to know that you patriarchs fuck the girls who just got married by fucking with another man.” Saying it out loud makes it even more fucked up.

A wicked smile spreads on his lips, and he grabs my hand and presses a kiss on top. “Such a smart girl to figure all that out.”

I jerk free. “It’s disgusting.”

He cocks his head, wearing a playful smile on his face. “Do I hear a hint of jealousy?”