John Matthew did as he was told, locking fists on two pegs that were mounted in the wall, his position framed by the lines of names.
Wrath brought up his dagger arm, revealing an ancient weapon that was locked on his entire forearm and hand. Made of silver, the flexible glove had barbs at the knuckles, and inside the curl of his fist was the handle of a black dagger.
Tohr led him over to the altar and positioned the King’s other wrist above the silver cup that was mounted in the top of the skull. With a vicious streak of the blade, Wrath cut himself and let his sacred pure blood flow into the reservoir.
“My flesh,” the King said. Then he licked his wound closed, put the blade down, and approached John.
After Tohr made sure he was in correct alignment, the King grabbed onto the inductee’s jaw, wrenched the male’s head to the side, and bit him in the neck, clearly sparing none of his strength. In response, John’s body spasmed from the pain, but he gritted his teeth and did not so much as exhale, his hands using the pegs to control his response. Like a Brother should.
Wrath stepped back and wiped his mouth, smiling with aggression. “Your flesh.”
Then he curled up a fist within the silver glove, drew back his powerful arm, and pounded the barbs into John’s pec … directly over the scar that was already present there.
As if John had previously been through the ceremony.
What a birthmark, Murhder thought.
Tohrment was next, scoring himself with the black dagger, mingling his blood with the King’s in the sacred skull cup, biting John, and brutally marking the male’s chest in the same place Wrath had.
And now it was Murhder’s turn as the second nominator.
Trading places with Tohrment, he accepted the glove and slipped it onto his own hand. Over at the altar, he picked up the black dagger, the candlelight flashing on the blade. For a moment, his eyes clouded once more with tears.
He thought of Sarah, waiting for him when this was through.
He thought of Nate, with her now.
He thought of what he hoped for the future.
For no particular reason, he glanced over at the angel who was far off to the side. The male was watching him, and the smile that came at Murhder was full of love and acceptance, as if the angel had had a hand in all this.
In everything.
The angel’s hand lifted and swept through the air—and Murhder jumped as he felt a stroke on his cheek, a tear being wiped away. Then the angel made a fist and opened his palm. Something caught the light, sending out a sparkle.
Shaking himself, Murhder refocused and turned back to the skull. “My flesh.”
The pain as he opened his vein was sharp and sweet, and his blood glowed red in the candlelight as it dropped in to join Wrath and Tohr’s. Licking the wound closed, he went up to the inductee. As he approached John, his eyes went to the list of names … and as he found his own, he felt a flush of pride.
“Your flesh.”
He didn’t have to tilt John’s head to the side. The male did it by himself.
The bite marks on John’s throat were bleeding, leaving a trail of blood down his collarbone and his chest, the side of his torso and his hip. The male was unwavering in the pain, his face composed and his body strong, even as his jaw spasmed from the agony he was in and his arms trembled from how hard he was gripping the pegs.
Murhder curled up a fist in the glove and spared none of his strength. To do so would have been disrespectful to John.
John took all of the bites and all of the strikes, adrenaline running through him, keeping him upright even as the pain magnified and threatened his vision and hearing.
When it was Qhuinn’s turn, his best friend seemed to tear up as their eyes met. John did the same.
And then Zsadist was the last one to approach him from the lineup. John stared into the male’s yellow eyes as a pair of massive fangs dug deep into a wrist still marked with a slave band. And then came the impact on John’s chest, all breath knocked out of him, his upper body going limp such that he nearly lost his hold on the grips.
But he remained standing.
His hollow belly pumped in and out as he refused to