Chaotic (L.O.R.D.S. #7) — Chapter no 4

FOUR

KASH TON INI TI ATION

ONE OF THEM SE NIOR YEAR AT BAR RING TON UNI VER SITY t’s hot. I’m sweating and my skin is blazing from the heat com‐I ing from the nearby fire.

I’ve been tied to this wooden post for quite some time. The slight‐ est move ment feels like splinters in my back.

My arms are se cured behind me. I’ve tried to untie it, but it’s use‐ less. My ankles are tied to the post and so is my neck.

They’re either going to burn me at the stake or brand me.

The hood is yanked from my head, and I blink rapidly to adjust to the sun beating down on me. A quick glance tells me that I’m in the courtyard with my three broth ers. And the firepit before me tells me we’re about to be branded.

“Lords,” a man says. “To day is the day that you take your oath. And with that oath comes great re sponsibility.”

I look up, scanning the bal conies, and see all the Lords gathered to watch. Not a single one in a cloak or mask. They get to be seen to‐ day. To watch the next generation take their spot in the society.

“As a Spade brother, you will be the ones who must punish those who disobey their oath. You will show them that we do not take our life for granted. You are their jury and exe cutioner. Do you under‐

stand?”

“Yes, sir,” the four of us answer.

The Lord nods and steps away from the firepit. The smoke makes my eyes burn, and I hear Adam coughing as he chokes on it.

My father appears in front of me, and he looks just as disappointed as he does angry. He never wanted me to make it this far. “Kashton Landon Pierce, you have completed all your tri als of initiation. Do you wish to pro ceed?”

I want to laugh in his face, but that wouldn’t accomplish anything.

“I do, Father,” I answer through gritted teeth. It’s the closest to ac‐ cep tance he’s going to get from me.

His face tightens when he speaks. “A Lord must be willing to go above and beyond for his title. He must show strength and have what it takes. If you fail your position as a Lord, your brother will take what you earned.”

They’re the only ones I’d allow to kill me.

He turns and walks to the firepit, picking up one of the brands.

When he re turns, he shoves a rag into my mouth, forc ing the back of my head into the wooden post I’m tied to.

“Kashton Landon Pierce,” he begins, “welcome to the Lords. For you shall reap the bene fits of your sacrifice.”

My entire body tenses as he shoves the hot brand into my sweat- covered chest, and I bite down on the rag in my mouth.

If my exis tence makes him angry, then I will vow my life to make him miserable.