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crammed into the glass box. It was a natural reaction when seeing a dangerous creature, self-preservation taking over, and screaming “run.”

But there was no escape.

My father and uncle tightened their grip, yanking my frightened body forward onto the unsteady stage. “Taylor Noble, you’re here today because you’ve questioned the teachings of The Valley. Not only that, but you’ve been spreading the same lies amongst your siblings and other members.”

“We obviously have differing opinions on what constitutes a lie—” A sharp blow to the back of my knees forced them out from underneath me, and I landed with a hard, painful thud.

Gritting my teeth, I refused to let Prophet Andrew see the pain on my face.

I knew it would give him pleasure.

It always did.

He wasn’t the only prophet in The Valley.

There were seven altogether, but Andrew was the one who always dealt out the punishments. Anytime he could order a beating or some kind of sick ritual that I was almost sure he made up—it was like you could see pure joy fill him.

“Say what you will, Taylor Noble,” he continued with a scowl, though the corner of his mouth twitched. “We’ll let the snakes decide whether your heart is with The Valley or whether you’re unsavable.”

He nodded to the tank of deadly serpents, and a man wearing thick gloves stepped up beside it, reaching in and grabbing a snake in each hand, tugging them from the writhing mess.

Don’t struggle.

Don’t fight.

Keep your heart rate low.

This was the test.

If the snake bites kill me, I was a sinner. If I somehow miraculously survived, it was God’s will for me to be here.

Had I ever seen anyone survive?

No.

My father and uncle stepped back, leaving me kneeling at the prophet’s feet while the man with the snakes advanced toward me. My heart wanted to race, run, and scream in fear, but I knew the more I panicked, the faster my veins would force the poison through my body, and the quicker I’d die.

“It’s time.”

It was almost like the snakes heard Prophet Andrew’s words, like they understood because they both lurched from the handler’s gloves, each with their aim focused on my right arm.

Their fangs sunk into my skin, and for a second, I felt nothing.

The shock protecting me for a single moment in time.

But it couldn’t protect me forever.

I wasn’t prepared for the scream that burst from my mouth, the pain so excruciating and overwhelming that I had no power over my body’s response to it. My breathing was short and sharp, and my arm felt like it was on fire. The snakes finally withdrew from my skin, failing to make it feel lighter now it had been pumped full of venom.

Wrapping my fingers around my elbow, I squeezed, trying to keep the poison from pumping into my body, ultimately stopping my heart.

I was so focused, so determined to fight the odds and win, that it took me a moment to notice the state of chaos that had erupted behind me. Booming voices, doors slamming, and screams from the pews had my head spinning.

Hysteria.

Around me.

Inside me.

“Enough!” The deep roar of his voice felt like it could have lifted the ceiling. It was otherworldly, and for a second, I wondered whether the poison had already begun to alter my perception of reality. Though, the second time he spoke was much clearer. It’d been a long time, but I knew his voice. I’d heard it before. “I’m taking the kid.”

“You have no authority here!” Prophet Andrew screamed back, though with a slight shake in his tone.

My consciousness was fading, whether because of the toxic wave infecting my bloodstream or my body simply going into shock because of the pain—I didn’t care. I welcomed the darkness. The end to a life where I’d spent my days praying to a god I didn’t believe in, watching my sisters be forced into marriages with men twice their age, being forced to work hard labor only to hand over every cent we earned to the prophets.

A life where I’d been beaten more days than not.

“I’d like to see you try to stop me,” the godlike voice growled. With the last ounce of strength in me, I looked over my shoulder, catching a glimpse of the wall of bodies filling the open doors of the church, a blur of leather, tattoos, and denim.

One moved toward me, but my vision was struggling to focus, unable to make out anything but the dark shadow advancing.

Everything that represented the devil.

“Come on, kid,” he murmured, scooping my body into his arms and walking out with me as Prophet Andrew screamed something unintelligible.

“Hang in there, don’t give up yet.”

Was this him?

Was this it?

Was I in Hell?

Because if it was really Hell, then why did I feel so at home?

1 HAWK

“You’re late.”

I reached for an empty plate, only to earn a slap on the back of my hand with a bright pink spatula. The sharp sting had me jerking back, crinkling my nose at my baby cousin, Calliope. “I’ve been down at Backroads, helping them finish shit.”

For extra impact, I scuffed my hand through my hair, letting the dust sprinkle out onto the floor. The club’s new sports bar was still very much under construction. I’d spent the last four hours or so sawing, hammering, and sanding, just so it was ready for the painters to come in a couple of days. Most of the boys were down there helping, only due to the fact the place was meant to be opening in just two fucking weeks.

Calli huffed loudly and rolled her eyes at me across the table. “You gonna clean that up?”

“You gonna force your favorite cousin to starve?”

“You’re an asshole.”

“I’ll take that,” I answered, grabbing a clean plate, this time without being assaulted. An asshole was far from the worst thing Calli had ever called me. Though, the way her shoulders sagged and a smile finally formed reminded me that it was all in love. “Now, can I eat? I’m fucking starved.”

She pointed

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