Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
“It’s okay,” Ruth whispered as I rose to take my position in the ritual.
“Please join hands around the holy union.”
I held my mother’s hand on my right and Johannes’ on my left. The ceremony was the only time unbetrothed men and women were allowed to touch, but I’d broken the rules. Perhaps it was the bending of truths I had been taught my whole life that unleashed my need to break the bonds of my society.
Johannes squeezed my hand, and a tremble coursed through me at the memory of his touch on other parts of my body. I couldn’t be sinful if God allowed me to want something more than my limitations. Could I? Would God forgive what we had done if it was for love?
My eyes shoot open at a tap on the window. Squinting, I try to decipher what lies in the darkness outside, but all I discern is the night sky. Perhaps it’s foolish not to wake my stepfather, but a part of me believes that whatever terror lingers in the frigid night air cannot be more horrific than what I will behold in the morning. Maybe I’ll die, and that will be the end of my duties.
My skin bursts into gooseflesh as I remove my duvet and step onto the hardwood floor. With careful steps, I hesitantly walk forward, peering into the night. My heart lurches into my throat, and I stagger back as a face illuminates in the moonlight. I slap my palm over my mouth to keep my startled shriek from waking my parents.
I straighten up and stumble toward the window, raising the paned glass to speak to him. “Why are you sneaking outside the window?”
Johannes gently pushes me aside as he crawls through my window.
My heart hammers, and my palms instantly become clammy with nerves. The last time my stepfather caught us in my room, he almost killed Hans. He called us sinful beings who would damn the entire family to Hell. My father didn’t understand that the bond Hans and I had forged was due to the Mephistophelian environment in which he raised us.
“Hans, what are you doing? If Father catches you in my room, he’ll follow through on his promise.”
Johannes ignores me and storms to my closet, pulls out a satchel, and hands it to me. “Pack a bag. We’re going.”
I stare at him blankly. “Going where?”
He snatches the satchel back, pulling clothing from my closet and stuffing it into the bag. Moving to my dresser, he yanks out socks.
I grab his hand to stop him when he opens my underwear drawer. I don’t know why, but the idea of his hands on my panties has me blushing. “I’ll do that part.”
Hans nods and withdraws, giving me space to open the drawer and remove what I deem essential.
I feel the weight of his gaze on me, sense that he’s watching. “Why am I packing, Hans?”
He grits the words out as if they disgust him. “They want you to marry John Tobias.”
Time stands still, and my body turns to stone. I can’t move. I can’t speak.
John Tobias?
He’s the revered elder. The leader. The anointed one. His Excellence. John Tobias, a man old enough to be my grandfather, is ordained to be my husband.
Strong hands grip my shoulders. “I’m not going to let it happen.”
“There’s nowhere we can hide that they won’t find us. Who in the village will keep us safe? Not one person will betray their covenant with God. Everyone will see it as me abandoning God. I’ll become a heretic. A scarlet. They will see you as a perversion, a man who lusts after his kin.”
“I’m not your brother, Maggie. You aren’t my blood.”
“It doesn’t matter. We were raised together. They’ll burn me and hang you.”
Hans holds firm to my shoulders, his eyes burning with determination while my heart beats with fear. “We aren’t going to let them decide our lives. We’re leaving.”
CHAPTER 2
Hans
We climb through the small window, barely getting out without a scrape or a cut from the rusted nails on the peeling wood frame, and run into the wild unknown of the woods.
I don’t know how long we run before Margarete tugs at my arm, forcing me to turn toward her. “There’s nowhere to go, Hans.”
Her breath hitches as I pull my arm from her touch. “No, Margarete.” I cup her face and touch my forehead to hers. “They didn’t want us to know there was a way out, but there is. I promise it’s not much further.”
She stares into the night, hesitation and regret visible on her face.
“The woods are safer, Margarete.”
She freezes at the thought of entering the demonic lair. Our mothers told us not to go into the woods. They said it was where evil lived—the devil who stole their sisters. From a young age, the females were told about the demon who tempted pious girls and turned them into jezebels of the dark.