Sons of Flame MC - Redemption (16 page)

This was a yearly ritual for my small village, and I’d witnessed the process as an observer many times before.

Just as I thought my painfully pert nipples might burst through the fabric of my nightgown, the last girl joined the line. I breathed a silent sigh of relief as she shuffled into place. Things could finally begin.

An older man stepped out of the crowd of villagers arrayed in front of us, dressed in a formless grey robe, and clutching a walking stick in his gnarled old fingers. He leaned heavily on it as he approached us, and the babble of conversation died away as everyone fell silent, awaiting his words.

He stopped a few paces in front of me and the other girls, and looked at each of us in turn. When his eyes met mine, I met them boldly. His milky blue irises seemed to bore right through me, and I eventually averted my gaze despite my best intentions.

When he finally spoke, his voice rang out strong and true, strangely at odds with his frail appearance.

“You all know why we are gathered here this morning. Winter will soon be upon us - already the days grow shorter, the nights longer. Before long the snows will arrive, and we will be trapped here until the spring melt opens the paths once more.”

He turned to face the forest, the dark trees looming over the village to the east.

“During the winter, we are vulnerable, isolated. And so, we must make our annual offering to those that live beyond. If we do not, we risk their wrath, and their wrath is terrible to see.”

He shuffled back around to face us girls.

“And so, just like every year before, we gather our village’s fairest maidens, and one will be chosen. And we will send her alone into the forest, where she will offer herself. And thus shall we secure our safety for another winter.”

I knew that this was why I was standing there, why we were all standing there. But the gravity of his words suddenly made it all seem so immediate, so real. A shiver involuntarily ran through my body, and it wasn’t just due to the cold. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, attempting to calm myself. There were around twenty other girls lined up alongside me – the odds were that I wouldn’t be chosen. I could think of many girls who were more beautiful than me, more self-assured. One of them would be a better offering

The thought calmed me, and my heart slowed, my breathing steadied.

Elder Cornelius began to speak again, his strong voice ringing out clearly over the silent crowd of villagers.

“It is now time for us to choose this year’s offering.”

His eyes swept across us once again.

“The Others will not accept an unwilling offering. Whoever is chosen, it falls upon her to offer herself willingly and completely. The fate of our community rests upon that girl. I hope that each of you understands this.
If
you are chosen, it is a great honor for you and for your family. Do not forget this. Do your duty and you shall be rewarded. Fail, and you risk bringing disaster upon us all.”

He paused for effect, letting the meaning of his words sink into everybody’s thoughts. I knew that he wanted us to understand how serious this was, so that if we were chosen, we would do our duty properly. After a long moment, the gnarled old man spoke once more.

“Bring me the names.”

Someone emerged from the crowd - I knew every single person in our village by name, but I was so nervous and preoccupied that I didn’t even take note of who it was. I only had eyes for the small velvet bag that they held in their hands. Inside that bag sat my name, scrawled onto a piece of parchment, along with the names of all those girls that stood beside me. Inside that bag, lay my fate.

Elder Cornelius took that bag and clutched it in the fingers of one arthritic hand. He held it high above his head, so that all could see.

“I will now choose one name from this bag. Whoever’s it is, will be this year’s offering.”

He spared one last look at us girls, so nervous and naked and exposed, and then untied the drawstring at the top of the small bag. He reached in, and when he removed his hand there was a small fragment of parchment clutched between two of his fingers.

He unrolled it, but his arthritis meant that he struggled a little with the fiddly task. Nobody offered to help him, just watched in silence. Nobody wanted to associate themselves with this decision. Finally, Elder Cornelius managed to get the parchment unrolled. He glanced at it, and looked up to where we stood. Every eye was fixed on the old man.

He opened his mouth, and said a single word. A name.

“Eliza.”

My name.

Every head swiveled to face me; every eye was suddenly fixed upon me. I could scarcely believe my ears. Surely there was some mistake. Someone else’s name had been called. It couldn’t be me.

But then Elder Cornelius stepped forwards, and began to hobble towards me. All was silent - not a single word was spoken by anybody present. When he reached my side, Elder Cornelius looked into my eyes, and smiled a wan smile. He turned to face the congregation of villagers, and took my hand in his. His skin was hard and leathery, his palm scored by calluses. He raised his arm above his head, bringing mine with it.

“A worthy choice! I call upon all present to recognize this girl, Eliza. She has been chosen. Her actions will benefit us all. Her actions mean we can continue to thrive, and to prosper. This is a great honor for her, and for her family.”

There were no cheers, no exclamations of relief or pride, or anything. Just silence, just those countless staring eyes.

As Elder Cornelius continued to speak, I no longer listened. I looked into all of those eyes, one by one. And in each, I saw the same emotion, again and again.

Not fear, not thankfulness, not anger.

No, the emotion that I saw, replicated on every face, was pity.

Pity for me.

#####

Chapter 2

T
hree days later, I stood on the outskirts of the village. I carried only a small amount of supplies in a satchel at my side. Enough to last me two, maybe three days. I had been assured that whatever was about to happen, would only take as long as that.

Only my immediate family came to see me off, as was usually the case. It was almost as if the other families were just thankful that their daughters had not been chosen this year, and wanted to cast the entire matter from their minds.

My mother was tearful, my father silent, his jaw bunched tight. More than once I saw him glance over at Elder Cornelius’ house with darkness in his eyes, but my mother gripped his arm tight, willing him to remain beside her.

I still didn’t really know what to expect. Everyone had been so tight-lipped since the moment that I had been picked out of the line, but their expressions and the way that they tiptoed around me, or even avoided speaking to me altogether, filled me with apprehension, even fear.

I’d tried to sit down with my parents and ask them to tell me exactly what to expect, but they just shook their heads, anguished expressions written across their faces.

“Truthfully, we do not know my darling. Everyone who has ever been chosen has not spoken about it after they return. The Others swear them to secrecy.”

I’d sat uncomfortably, my mind filled with lurid images, horrible scenarios. They had tried to take my mind off it, but it was all I could think about.

At one point, my mother had reached out to me and wrapped her hands around my own in a sort of protective embrace.

“Try not to think about it too much, Eliza. Just know that everything that happens is for the greater good of this village, and our family. We’ll receive extra food and luxuries this winter. And once you come back, you need never worry about it again.”

And so, with one final kiss from my mother, and a great big warm hug from my father, I set off on that crisp, chilly morning. As I trudged off alone into the woods, I looked back only once. They were both still standing there, framed by the village behind them. Smoke from the morning cooking fires trailed lazily off into the cold blue sky. I felt a lurch of fear in my stomach, but shrugged it off as I turned away from them for the last time, determined not to look back again.

At first I shivered, despite the warm furs that I hugged tightly around my body. However, as the late autumn sun struggled higher into the sky, the air grew warmer. I set a good pace, and by the time midday arrived I was warm enough to slip off my thick outer coat and continue on with it slung over my shoulder.

I’d been told to simply walk east, until such a time as the Others made themselves known to me. A lifetime of growing up in the village had taught me how to navigate using the location of the sun in the sky, and I had no trouble maintaining a relatively straight path. For the first couple of hours, I was in territory that was familiar to me. We often ventured into the woodlands to forage and hunt, but always within set boundaries. From a young age, the importance of not wandering further astray had been drummed into our heads. The woodlands covered a huge area, but only the immediate area was safe for us.

Beyond that, the land belonged to the Others. I was now entering their territory.

#####

I
walked for the entire first day, stopping only briefly to eat some of the dried rations that I’d been given, and occasionally to fill my water skin in the small streams and clear pools that dotted and criss-crossed the woodland floor.

When I had still been in familiar territory, I’d sung and hummed to myself, to alleviate the monotony of my journey and keep myself company. But as I forged ahead, deeper and deeper into the trees, into
their
territory, I fell silent.

The atmosphere here was...different. There was no birdsong, and I saw no other living things, or even signs that they existed here. The trees grew somehow larger in my mind, more imposing. The canopy, way up above my head, became thicker and thicker, until barely any natural sunlight filtered down to the ground where I walked. This part of the forest seemed to be in perpetual gloom, and as hard as I tried, I couldn’t shake off a sense of foreboding and dread.

But every time my resolve started to waver, I thought back to the words of Elder Cornelius. I thought about my family, my fellow villagers. I couldn’t let them down. And besides, of all the other girls who had been on this journey in years past, none had ever returned without completing their duty. I sure as hell wasn’t going to be the first to fail.

I trudged forwards; towards whatever it was that was expected of me, wrapped up in my own thoughts. Every now and then, because I couldn’t even see the sun anymore, I stopped to check the trunk of a nearby tree. There was a certain type of moss that only grew on the north-facing side, and so I was able to continue to navigate even in the perpetual twilight of the forest floor.

At any moment, I expected the Others to burst out from behind the nearest trees and grab me. But they never came, and I never had any indication that they even existed.

I set a makeshift camp that night, laying out my bedroll on the spongy, mossy ground. I was cold, and desperately wanted to make a fire, but something inside me told me not to. It would be seen from a long distance away, and I didn’t want to draw attention to myself. So I simply ate a brief meal and wrapped myself in my furs, squeezing my eyes shut and willing sleep to come.

#####

Submitting to Him – An Extract

Available at:

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B013YVDTP4

––––––––

A lowly accountant in enigmatic billionaire Conrad White's business empire, Annette's life changes forever one day when he chooses her to become his new 'assistant'. 

She agrees to obey him, no matter what he asks - but she soon finds out that this promise will not be easy to keep.... 

Annette is brought into a new world of dark pleasures and unimaginable luxury, betrayal, deceit, and adventure. 

What began as a job soon becomes much, much more...but will Conrad allow her to get as close to him as she so desperately desires?

A
t 7.30 the next morning precisely, Annette Black stepped out of the elevator on the penthouse floor of the White Industries building. She'd chosen a simple form-hugging black skirt and a white blouse for her first day as Conrad White's personal assistant. Her hair was pinned up in a tidy bun. She looked every inch the professional.

Unsurprisingly, the same woman was still sitting in her place behind the desk. She looked up quickly when Annette arrived, and simply waved the younger woman towards a plain wooden door at one side of the room.

"Mr White is probably waiting for you. You may go through."

If the old bat was surprised that Annette had decided to accept the job, she didn't show it. Somehow, Annette found it difficult to be surprised. She'd be amazed if this woman even had the ability to express emotion.

Cautiously, she pushed open the door, and walked into the office. And there, in front of her, sat Conrad White.

He looked up as Annette entered the room, meeting her eyes.

For her part, Annette's breath involuntarily caught in her throat as they locked gazes. His eyes were an extraordinary shade of green, piercing and vibrant. His strong, straight nose sat above a surprisingly full pair of lips. He was clean-shaven, and wore a simple white shirt, unbuttoned at the top. His hair was a light brown, cut short at the sides and swept back a little on top.

She wasn't normally one for swooning, but Annette was taken aback. He was even better-looking than in the innumerable pictures she'd already seen of him, and she temporarily found herself to be speechless, standing in front of him mutely.

He looked amused by her obvious awe, but didn't seem to be in any hurry to put her at ease.

Annette finally forced herself to speak.

"Good morning Mr White. I'm Annette, your new assistant."

She finished lamely, not sure what else to say. She realised that she didn't even know what she was going to be doing in this job, but she couldn't just
ask
him.

He rested his jaw in one hand and leaned forward, still not having broken eye contact with her. When he spoke, his voice was smooth and calm.