Elegant Sins - Stasia Black Page 0,51

hot and so bright it burned my eyes to look directly at it. But I was able to look long enough to see that the burning end was vaguely shaped the same as Montgomery’s new tattoo—in the shape of two crossed sabers.

No.

Fuck no.

I backed away several steps without thinking.

Montgomery moved in front of me, blocking me from the branding iron.

And I suddenly realized that this was about three seconds from all going terribly wrong.

It played out in my mind’s eye. Montgomery standing up to his father. Saying that no, that this was barbaric and twisted. Then we’d both be thrown out of the trials and then what?

I’d go back to Nowhere, Georgia, with no money and no future.

And Montgomery. His father would win. I didn’t know all the stakes, but I did know that Montgomery would get his father’s company if he completed these tests successfully.

But it was a fucking hot iron! They thought they could brand me. It wasn’t fair! It wasn’t what I signed up for.

Ha. So, what else was new?

“She’ll get the tattoo,” Montgomery was saying to his father while my mind was whirling a million miles an hour. “That’s all.”

Montgomery’s father advanced on him, getting right in his face. “You think you can come in here and start dictating the rules of our traditions? This is exactly what’s wrong with your generation and why these trials are more important than ever.”

He looked back to the rest of the Elders. “Do we want these young bucks coming in and thinking they can do better than us? Better than centuries of established practice and respected tradition? We have to protect ourselves”—he looked back at Montgomery—“even from our own blood, if they aren’t willing to participate fully as an equal brother.” To the rest of the Elders, he said, “Brotherhood before all!”

“Brotherhood before all,” the rest of the gathered men echoed back.

Montgomery’s face was red with anger, and I saw him getting ready to argue with his father. It wouldn’t get him anywhere. Right now, his dad had the crowd. He’d appealed to their brotherhood, and it would be nearly impossible for Montgomery to frame disagreement with his father as anything other than betrayal to the rest of the group.

“I’ll do it,” I said, stepping forward before Montgomery could say anything else. And before I could think it all the way through, because that was the only way I would get through this—not thinking. Sometimes your gut told you what was right, and you just had to jump.

Montgomery’s head whipped around to look at me, and I saw the conflict in his eyes.

Dear God, I wasn’t sure what I was doing, but I didn’t back down. I kept my eyes locked with Montgomery’s.

I couldn’t imagine what it would feel like, couldn’t even let myself go there.

But I could look at Montgomery and try to block the rest of the men out to get through this just like I had everything before it.

Montgomery approached me and bent his head. “Say pearl necklace,” he hissed in a low whisper. “Go. Leave this place and don’t look back.”

His eyes burned with angry intensity, and I knew it was for me. He was furious on my behalf.

Over Montgomery’s shoulder, I saw his father smile in satisfaction. He thought this was it. He thought I would walk away.

But he’d never met Grace Morgan. He didn’t know how stubborn I could be.

I met Montgomery’s eyes once again. “I trust you.”

And then I dropped my robe.

It hurt like nothing I could have imagined.

Montgomery’s father tried to wield the branding iron, but Montgomery took it from him, and I was glad. If anyone was going to inflict this wound on me, I knew Montgomery would be the lightest touch.

But it still hurt like the fires of hell when the brand touched the spot on my hip.

I’m not proud, but I screamed. I couldn’t help it.

Montgomery pulled the branding iron away almost as soon as he made contact, but the hiss of skin burning was still audible all around the room.

Not even the loud pounding of canes could drown out my screaming.

Montgomery threw the branding iron back into the fire, sending embers and flames flying, and then he picked me up in a cradle-carry and all but ran back up the stairs.

Burn ointment was already laid out on the nightstand beside the bed.

Tears of humiliation burned, thinking of Mrs. Hawthorne putting it here, knowing before even we did what we’d be facing tonight.

I still had my eyes closed.