Heart Thief - Ker Dukey Page 0,2

his nose, getting to my feet, and darting from the sand into the tree line.

“Brat,” he calls, giving chase.

My laughter sends birds flying from the treetops, my feet crunching leaves and branches beneath them as I run. I hear his approach and screech when he collides with me, taking me off my feet and spinning me. He deposits me against a large tree trunk, pushing my back against the bark.

He’s too close. Fire fills his eyes. “You know I can’t kiss you,” he says, but his body tells me something else.

“It’s my birthday,” I remind him. Reaching up, I pull his lips down on mine, and he doesn’t fight it.

The touch is sloppy, uncoordinated. Teeth clank against teeth, our inexperience apparent.

The earth doesn’t move, and my belly doesn’t dip. My life isn’t altered.

Disappointment sprouts roots inside me…and they slowly begin to grow.

Three

Mona

The house is quiet when I return. A sense of dread fills my belly every time I step over the threshold. Our house is on the border of our island, so close to the harbor, I can see it from my bedroom window. Many nights, I’ve thought about running, hiding on one of the food supply boats that go to the city to collect stock for the market we have here, but fear holds me hostage.

What if I were caught? Would father imprison me? Cleanse me of my sins? What if I wasn’t caught and made it to the city? Would the monsters father speaks of find me before Clara did?

Sadness blossoms in my chest as I creep within the house. I’m halfway through the living space when my father’s voice startles me. “You missed scripture reading this morning.” His words are as sharp as the edge of a knife. My heart kicks against my ribcage. I expected him to be at the church.

“I’m sorry, Father. I wanted to see the sunrise. It reminds me of Clara,” I murmur. Her name always evokes the same darkening of his features, a storm threatening in warning of its unpredictability. She’s his own flesh and blood, yet the pure disdain he had toward her, you’d think I was talking about a sinner from the outside world

Boom. Boom. Boom.

“Your sister broke our law. By leaving us, she invited sin into her heart.” His tone remains remarkably calm and controlled, sending a scurrying of goosebumps over my flesh. He’s the most dangerous when he tricks you with his serene demeanor. It’s so you let your guard down and don’t see the devil within.

“Your law, Father,” I say boldly, defiant. Heat rises to my cheeks. I hate his laws. His hit knocks me off my feet, pain exploding across the apple of my cheek, stealing my breath.

“Do I not provide a pleasing life for you both?” He advances a step toward me, and the need to cower beneath him causes my arms shake. “You will take over my position one day and lead our people. It will be the same law you pass down to your children. It’s safer this way. The only way to keep your souls pure.”

I die a little inside at his words. I don’t want to stay here, lead anyone…and children? I’m still a child myself. I don’t believe we should marry and birth as many children as possible. This is hell.

“If you say so, Father.” I nod. Because I have to. Provoking his wrath further isn’t worth it. I get to my feet, willing the tears not to fall.

“I do.” He pivots on his heel and I breathe a sigh of relief. I’m just about to take a step toward my room when he turns back. “And, Mona…no more morning visits to the watch the sunrise.” His words are more a warning than a request. The acid burn of sickness bursts over my tongue.

And just like a flower without the sun, I wilt inside.

“Okay.” I attempt to walk past him, but he steps in my way, his finger pinching and raising my chin.

“She’s been gone for a month. If she returns, she returns tainted by the outside world. It’s like a disease, Mona, and will need to be cleansed from her. Go to your room and pray for her soul.” A lump lodges in my throat, preventing me from saying anything else.

Would he really cleanse her? Yes.

I hope she never returns.

Hunger pangs squeeze my stomach, forcing me to leave my room in search of food. Usually, Father would have insisted I join them for dinner, but he’s punishing me for