I follow Adam down a long hallway. Doors break off to the left and right at intervals, and Spinners stand at a few of them, their hands folded in front of them, eyes down. I don’t need to see their faces to know I’m headed for a dark fate. My instincts scream at me to run. I don’t. I’m here for a reason, and I won’t leave until I get what I came for. I force my fear to take a backseat to my determination.

After what feels like one hundred yards of walking, he turns to the right and pushes through a set of double doors. A Spinner stands inside the new area. She’s young, maybe not even twenty-five, and a scar cuts across her forehead and disappears beneath her blonde hair.

“Which is hers?” Adam asks, impatience slicing the spaces between his words.

She turns and leads us down the hall. I count a dozen doors, each named after a book of the Bible. She motions to the Psalms door, and Adam pushes past her and into the room.

Something cold slithers around my spine, squeezing and cutting off my ability to move. If I go into that room, what will happen? Nothing good. But this is what I signed up for. I have no illusions like some of the other girls. The Cloister isn’t a haven, it’s a prison, and I walked right into it. This is just the iron bars clanging shut behind me.

“You’d best follow,” the Spinner whispers.

I glance at her, but she gives nothing away.

“Delilah.” Adam’s low voice carries more than a hint of menace. “Get in here.”

I steel my nerves and step into the room. Adam sits on the bed, his eyes on me. The room is bigger than what I’m used to. A small bathroom connects on the right, a closet on the left. The furniture is simple and matches the log cabin décor. A white bedspread covers the bed.

“Close the door.” He hasn’t taken his gaze off me.

I do as instructed, pushing it shut. The click of the handle carries a finality that chills me.

“Come.” He points to the floor in front of him.

Swallowing hard, I move to stand in front of him. He looks up at me, his eyes dark and fathomless. So much like his father’s that bile rages in my stomach.

“Down.” He taps his foot on the pale blue rug.

Heat seeps up my neck and into my cheeks.

He must see it, because he smirks. “I’ve never had one who won’t do what she’s told.”

Shit. I can’t stand out. Fitting in with the other Maidens is the only way this can work.

Slowly, I sink to the floor and keep my gaze on the rug.

“Closer.” He reaches out and plucks a lock of my hair, rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger.

I scoot nearer. He spreads his knees wider and yanks on my hair. “Closer.”

I clench my teeth, but I obey, moving until I’m between his legs, my face level with his stomach. I don’t look down.

“What’s your name?”

“Delilah.” I flinch as he yanks my hair again.

“What’s your real name?”

I look up at him. “Delilah.”

His nostrils flare, and his eyes widen. I quickly drop my gaze.

“You’re different.” He uses both hands to stroke down my hair. “I mean, obviously you look different. Albino or something?”

I’d been called that by mean children since the first grade. His use of the term rolls off like water on a duck’s back. My skin and hair are the result of a genetic defect, a close cousin to albinism, but he doesn’t need to know that. I’ve dealt with rude comments on my odd looks my whole life. I could deal with his, too.

“So white.” He studies my hair. “Like a fairy.”

I remain still and silently hope that he will lose interest, that his perusal of my hair will be the end of the evening, and he’ll leave me in peace.

A few more moments pass, then he leans back. “Take your dress off.”

God, it had been so hard to do it the first time in a room full of gawking men. Now, in a quiet room with just one man, it seems infinitely more difficult.

He taps the small buckle at the front of his belt. “You’ll learn that you need to obey me. Every time. Immediately. I’ll give you a pass tonight since it’s our first time together, but from now on, when I tell you to do something, you do it. No hesitation. Now, take your dress off.”

My lip trembles as I reach down and pull the gold fabric from beneath my knees, then ease it over my head. Goosebumps race all over my body as the cool air hits me in secret places, but I won’t cry. I drop the fabric next to me, then resume staring at his stomach, though now my eyes are drawn down to the shiny silver buckle.

“Good lamb.” He presses his index finger under my chin and draws my gaze up to his face. Square jaw, sharp nose, full lips, dark hair, and those unreadable eyes—he is handsome. I assume Satan is, too.

“Whenever I come to visit, I expect you to strip and kneel before me immediately. You don’t ask questions. You don’t hesitate. Do you understand?” His gaze flickers to my lips.

“Yes.”

“Good.” He releases my chin, and I return my gaze to the floor.

He clucks his tongue. “Don’t hide from me. Always look me in the eye when I speak to you.”

“But the Spinners told us never to—”

“When we are in this room, we do it my way.” He shoots a glance to a vent in the ceiling, then refocuses on me. “I’m your Protector. I would never lead you astray.”

I meet his gaze again, feeling its weight settling all over me, pulling me down to an abyss full of dark shapes and moving shadows.

“Good lamb.” A smirk toys with the edge of his lips. “Now open your mouth.”

I will not cry. I will not cry. I open.

He frowns. “Faster next time. And wider.”

I spread my jaws, pulling my lips back from my teeth.

“Better.” He slides two fingers into my mouth, pressing down on my tongue. “Have you ever taken a man in your mouth before?”

I shake my head slightly.

His smirk blooms. “Liar.”

Panic threatens to constrict my throat. Getting into the Cloister required virginity. I had that in the technical sense, which was supposedly “confirmed” during the exam required for all applicants. A virgin? Yes. A saint? No.

“How many dicks have you sucked, little lamb?” He presses down harder, his fingers sliding closer to the back of my throat.

I gag, but he doesn’t remove his fingers. My gorge rises, more from a memory than anything he’s doing to me.

“How many?”

“One,” I say around his fingers.

“One?” Seemingly satisfied, he pulls back. “Leave your mouth open.”

Spit pools on my tongue, but I can’t swallow.

He gives me a hard look, one devoid of pity. “Do you have any idea what you’re in for? What a year in this place will do to you? What I will do to you?”

I can’t respond. But I want to tell him I’m not afraid. That I will do whatever is necessary.

“You’re a fool for coming here.” He sighed. “Close your mouth.”

“Spinner!” His sudden yell makes me jump.

The door opens, and the scarred blonde enters. “Yes, sir?”

“Begin throat training tomorrow for this one. Her gag reflex needs work.”

She nods. “Yes, sir.”

“Get out.”

“Yes, sir.”

She disappears, and the door clicks shut again.

“Get on the bed, and spread your legs.”

My knees go weak, but I try to stand. He doesn’t help, just watches with cold eyes that seem to miss nothing. Humiliation courses through me as he treats my nudity like a banality, as if nothing is off about this, all of this.

“Delilah, you’re testing me.” His hand strays to his belt buckle again.

I walk to the far side of the bed and sit down, then force myself to lie back. Telling my legs to open is one thing—them actually following the command is another.

Adam rises and stands at the foot of the bed, his face cast in shadow. “Spread them.”

My chin trembles, and for a second, I don’t think I can do this anymore.

He unfastens his belt and slowly pulls it from the loops with a schick noise as a girl starts crying next door. “Last chance.”

I clamp my eyes shut and open my legs.

“More.” His voice seems to drop an octave, taking on a rougher edge.

My heels scoot across the white quilt until cool air caresses the most intimate parts of me.

“More,” he grates.

I open all the way, and a tear slips from my eye and rolls into my ear. He doesn’t say anything else.

The girl next door wails, and another girl screams from down the hall.

The bed dips, his knees between my ankles. I clutch the quilt, fisting the material as he looms over me. I can’t open my eyes.

A scream sounds from down the hall. I jump.

“Shh.” His warm breath fans out along my inner thigh.

“What are you doing?”

“Look and see.”

I open my eyes. He’s between my legs, his mouth hovering along my bare skin, moving up, up, up my thighs. His gaze locks with mine, pupils wide, as he stops only an inch from the part of me that no man has ever seen.

“Do you taste as good as you look, Delilah?” His warm breath tickles along my sensitive skin.

Every rational thought in my mind grinds to a halt.

He breathes in deeply, and I clutch the quilt so hard my fingers ache.

“I think you do.” His tongue darts to his lips. “I think you’ll beg me to taste you. Soon.”

My heart pounds and stumbles as he inhales me, his gaze holding me prisoner. He doesn’t touch me, but he’s staking a claim all the same. I can’t relax, can’t think, can’t look at anything but him. His light breaths ignite little sparks along my skin, and I’m horrified at how I’m reacting to him. Something warm unfurls low in my stomach, a faint longing that shouldn’t be there. Not in this place. Not with this man.

He licks his lips, and I gasp in a breath. With a smirk, he leans back and stands, then grabs his belt from the bed. He strides to the door, then pauses. “Don’t open the door for anyone but a Spinner or me. Understand?”

I can’t even nod.

“Goodnight.” He leaves, and I finally take a breath.