I took it too far this afternoon. It was too close. I was too close to the point of no return. But fuck, I was strung out from two days straight of bullshit, no sleep, and no end in sight.

Noah joins me at the entrance to the Temple. He looks almost as bad as I do, the golden boy glow faded, his clothes rumpled, and his eyes bloodshot. “I really don’t want to sit through this shit right now.” He unbuttons his shirt as we walk.

“Skipping isn’t an option.” I wish it was. Watching my father lord over his crop of Maidens isn’t at the top of my ‘for shits and giggles’ list. Then again, I want to see what he does to Delilah so I can cover over every touch from him with one of my own. If I could have left my seed all over her virgin cunt, I would have. It would be perfect to see the look on my father’s face when he realized what I’d done. But that would have resulted in discipline for both Delilah and me. I can take as many lashes as my father can toss at me, but Delilah doesn’t deserve punishment, especially if it meant she’d be sent to the Rectory.

“Wake the fuck up, asshole.” Noah thumps me on the upper arm.

“Do you need a Snickers?” I unbutton my shirt. “You miss your afternoon snack or something?”

“I’m not hangry.” He shrugs. “Okay, maybe a little. But I’m just tired of this shit.”

“Welcome to the club.”

“But we should, you know, follow what Dad says.” His tone loses some of its edge. “He’s the Prophet and all.”

“Still got that faith, huh?” I don’t like to fault my brother much, but that one thing—his misplaced belief in our father—rankles.

“I have to hold onto something, man. Otherwise…”

Otherwise he’d let himself feel the heat around us, see the fires of hell closing in, and smell the scent of our burning flesh. I couldn’t argue with that.

“Let’s get it over with.” We follow Protector Gunn into the sacred circle, my father already flying high on his throne in the middle of the room. His coke habit is out of control. Good. I hope it kills the bastard.

I take my spot and kneel. The other Protectors are already here and in position. Good little lapdogs, each of them. But why wouldn’t they be? They get treats all the time, fresh young girls in white, a new one each year.

“Why are you looking at me like that, son?” My father glowers at me.

I didn’t realize I’d been looking at him at all. My subconscious probably had me staring daggers. “No offense intended.”

“None intended, huh? Is that right?” Belligerence lives in his voice. “Well, I took offense. What do you have to say about that?”

Noah rocks forward. “Dad—”

“I’m not talking to you, Noah. I’m talking to the son-of-a-bitch you call your brother.”

My fingers curl into fists as he says it, and I know Noah is just as angry as I am. Our mother is the gentlest soul on this godforsaken Compound. And she’s paid dearly for it.

The doors open, and Grace struts in, her gaze glancing off me before landing on my father. “We are here for your blessing, Prophet.” She even does a little curtsey.

“We’ll finish this later.” My father’s icy demeanor melts as he turns toward the doors. “Bring them in, by all means.” Now jovial, he opens his arms in welcome. A spider welcomes the fly with the most perfect of manners.

The girls walk in, already stripped bare. I search through them to find my little lamb. So pale, she’s striking even in the midst of a dozen other beauties. They’re warier this time, but sit in front of my father as instructed.

When the Spinners bring the poisoned food, only one among them reaches for the fruit. Delilah looks at me with wide eyes. She’ll try to resist, but it won’t work. The Spinners starved them today to ensure a good audience with my father. They will eat, because they have no choice.

“My darling Maidens.” My father stands and walks among them. “I welcome you here once again for our weekly congress. How I’ve missed you all.”

He sits next to one with dark hair, bruises darkening the light brown skin on one cheek. “You are blessed among women. What’s your name, child?”

She remains still, her face impassive. “Sarah.” No inflection in her tone, but something in her eyes tells me she’s a bit cagier than the others.

“Lovely Sarah.” He strokes down her arm, then cups her breast. “I’ve been waiting for you. And you are safe here with me. Always.” He rubs his thumb over her nipple, and her expression hardens even more, an impenetrable shell. “Now, eat.”

She finally looks him in the eye, then gives a slight shake of her head.

“Oh, shit,” Noah breathes. “Oh shit.”

“He won’t do it here.” I watch as my father’s mask remains in place. He reaches for a plate of grapes and plucks one, then forces it between her lips and into her mouth.

A single tear rolls down her cheek as my father waits for her to chew and swallow. When it’s done, he releases her and turns to the other Maidens. “Eat and drink. It is my gift to you. I love each and every one of you. Everything about you is holy to me. Your beauty—” He rises and continues to walk among them “—your grace, your perfect obedience.”

They all eat and drink, giving in to their hunger and the sheer power that the Prophet wields over them. Even Delilah succumbs, her eyelids growing heavy as the LSD seeps into her bloodstream and clouds her mind. She lies back on the pillows, her gaze focused on the gilded upside down cross above the throne. A symbol of our obedience to the Father of Fire, the emblem glitters in the low light.

Noah leans toward me. “Is he going to pick one this time?”

“He already has.” I watch the dark-haired girl who’d denied my father. Her fate is sealed.

The Prophet stalks among them, then sits again, a Maiden on either side of him.

He pulls them close, then positions them so they face each other. “Nothing is sweeter than the purest fruit.” With my father’s urging, the Maidens kiss. He watches for a while, then takes their hands and places them on each other. Before long, moans rise from their throats and they lay on the pillows, tangled in each other.

“At least we get some entertainment this time.” Noah sits back on his haunches when Dad isn’t looking.

Pleased with his work, my father moves to another set of Maidens and encourages the same behavior, even pushing one onto her back and urging the other to eat her out. I tense when he reaches for Delilah, pulling her into a sitting position. He kisses her forehead, then motions another Maiden over to her.

Everything inside me tenses as Delilah receives a kiss from another Maiden. My father moves along before urging them to baser acts, but Delilah allows the Maiden to lay her down, still kissing her, one of her hands roving across Delilah’s breasts. My cock becomes painfully hard as I imagine it’s me doing the exploring, the touching. I know how heavenly her skin feels, how soft her breasts are, the nipples perfect for biting. The other Maiden runs her hand through Delilah’s hair, and I want to yank the harpy away from my little lamb. But I can’t. Just as with everything else here, I’m forced to stay in line.

I watch them for ten more minutes until the other Maiden is pulled into a threesome and Delilah is left to herself on the pillows. Relief pulses through me, but it’s short-lived. These orgies are a weekly occurrence, and Delilah can’t escape every time. She’ll be drugged and defiled, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

She lies still for a moment, then cranes her neck until we make eye contact. I hold her there, as if my gaze is some sort of force, until her lashes fall and she tumbles into sleep.

The scene continues for another hour, until my father wants their attention back on him. He calls them up to his throne so he can prey on each Maiden individually. I’m relieved when he doesn’t give Delilah any special attention. It just means he hasn’t noticed that this one is different to me. If he ever did … I decide to save those violent thoughts for later.

When each one of the Maidens is looking at my father with dreamy eyes, seeing the Prophet instead of the man, he is satisfied and allows them to return to the Cloister. It’s genius, really. Ensure that the Spinners and the Protectors abuse them every waking moment, then bring them to the Temple where the Prophet offers food, love, and empty promises that sound filled to the brim with hope and solid as a block of granite.

“Grace, I’d like to meet with Sarah alone,” he calls as the women are exiting.

“Yes, Prophet.” A smirking Grace pulls Sarah aside.

The girl is still in the warm bubble of the drug, her limbs heavy as Grace walks her back to my father.

I don’t close my eyes. It would be so easy to do just that. But I don’t. Because I’m here, and I’m not going to do a thing to stop what’s about to happen. I deserve to see it, to hear it, to fucking feel it deep in my gut—the wrongness of it.

My father pushes the girl onto the pillows on her stomach. I can’t see her face, but I watch her anyway. Because it’s what I deserve. Grace stands just in front of her, ready to grab her if need be. He pulls her hips up to him.

When she cries out in pain, I keep watching. Grace grabs her hair and shoves her back, keeping her still while my father ruts on her like a goddamn beast. I keep watching. When he finishes, stands, and then kicks her in the stomach, I keep watching. When he spits on her, I keep watching.

“You are nothing but a filthy whore. All women are. You don’t say no to your Prophet. You do what I say, when I say it. Perfect obedience to me is the only way a bitch like you can get into heaven. You will obey, or you will burn.”

Already in the fetal position, she doesn’t say anything. But she knows what just happened to her. The same way I do.

I am tainted by her violation, and I feel it. Another stain on my soul. Another reason to hate my father.

“And you.” He turns to me, his robe still in disarray. “I’m not done. Your willfulness has guaranteed that I pay your mother a visit this evening.”

“Dad, please—” Noah tries to get to his feet.

“Sit down!” His voice thunders around the room. “I will do what I must to keep this ministry alive. To keep my oaths to God and the Father of Fire. You will obey me, damn you!”

He’s left no room, no way to stop whatever horror he intends to visit on our mother. Noah and I are supposed to accept it as an appropriate punishment for whatever slight my father feels—whether real or imagined. Just as with the women, he expects perfect obedience from his sons. I bow my head and pretend to give it.

What he doesn’t know is that I’ll kill him for this. For all of it.