Prologue
Delilah
One Year Ago
Delilah cracked open a dry, crusted eye against the beam of warm, golden light pouring through the window across from her bare cot. The white linen curtains, sheer and thin, fluttered with the gentle breath of winter’s breeze. Around her, large portraits of religious figures and figurines of Jesus were nailed to sickly white wallpaper. It was all in an effort to cleanse her spiritually, but she knew the truth.
She would never be clean. Not when her existence was sin itself.
Outside of the tiny room she was confined in, the sound of hymns floated on the air. Faint but unmistakable voices joined in reverent harmony, praising the ceremony that had broken her.
A bluebird landed on the window sill, the tiny thud of it’s body alerting her. Its tiny form was vibrant against the pale light of morning. It blinked at her with obsidian eyes, its delicate head tipping left, then right, a silent observer of her pain.
“Hello,” she rasped, her voice barely audible. Her lips were cracked and dry, and the single word felt like sandpaper on her throat.
The bird gave a single, cheerful tweet, then flitted away in a flash of blue.
So free, so untouchable. It moved without permission, without judgment. No rituals, no rules. Just sky and wind and instinct.
A tear slid from the corner of her eye, catching in her hair. The hymns outside swelled into pure, jubilant, and victorious shouts. Celebration.
But there was nothing to celebrate.
She shifted slightly, trying to curl into herself, but the motion drew a hiss of pain from between clenched teeth. Her skin felt flayed raw. Her back burned with every shallow breath. She was hot and sticky, damp from fever and sweat.
Her eyes fell closed again and soon the sound of singing was replaced by a buzzing emptiness.
When she opened them again, the sun had long since set. The room was cooler. Moonlight filtered through the open window, casting everything in blue and grey. Shadows danced across the walls, and the silence was broken only by the occasional creak of the old wooden beams below her.
“Delilah.”
The whisper was soft and urgent.
Delilah blinked wearily through the dimness, wishing her body could spare the fluid to produce tears and dampen her dry eyes. Her vision was blurry, but she made out the shape of a woman resting on her knees beside her bed.
“A-anna?” Her voice cracked in disbelief.
She squinted. Was her sister real? Or just another fevered hallucination?
Anna leaned forward, and the pale glow of the moon revealed her familiar face. It was ashen, tense, and her eyes were wide with fear. A few strands of honey-brown hair had slipped free from her white headscarf. She looked untidy, harried.
“You can not be here,” Delilah whispered. “I am still in isolation.”
If Anna was caught, the punishment would be severe. Blood pounded through her head at the thought as nausea rolled through her.
Anna didn’t reply. Her gaze roamed over Delilah’s prone form, her slim throat working as she swallowed. Delilah tried to sit up, tried to offer some comfort, but the sharp pain in her spine nearly blacked out her vision.
Still, the impulse to protect, to soothe, and to serve surged in her chest. It was instinct.
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay,” she murmured, even though her body trembled from the lie.
Delilah couldn’t recall how long she’d been laying there. Every memory since the ritual was nothing but a blur. No one ever laid eyes on her before she recovered and her isolation was deemed over. The Prophet commanded it.
No one disobeyed the Prophet, and yet Anna was there. She struggled to understand.
Anna finally leaned closer. Her voice shaky.
“Delilah… we are leaving.”
The words were strange and alien, like a foreign language spoken in a dream.
“What?”
“We must leave Sanctum,” Anna hissed, eyes darting from her prone from on the bed and the door.
If she had the energy, she would have asked her how she’d gotten entrance when there was a Disciple on guard duty.
She tried to process it, but her brain was sluggish, fogged by pain and heat and confusion. “I… I am not allowed to leave isolation yet.”
Anna’s mouth tightened. “It does not matter.” She held up a metal flask and began to unscrew it.
Delilah nearly recoiled at the sight. “I can not break my fast, Sister. My isolation is not over and the Prophet has not blessed me. How could you think to-”
Without answering her, Anna shoved the flask to her cracked lips and the taste of cool water rushed into her mouth.She couldn’t help but groan at the taste, at the warmth of a lone tear rushing down the side of her face. Her throat struggled to swallow and Anna pulled back.
Anna’s free hand shot out, gripping her wrist. Delilah couldn’t stop the whimper of pain that escaped her lips. Her skin felt scorched, hypersensitive, and Anna’s touch was too much.
“I’m sorry.” Anna pulled back slightly. “ This is our chance. I’ve figured everything out. There’s someone from the Outside who’s going to help us.”
There was no doubt in her mind now that Anna truly was speaking of leaving their home. It was blasphemous to even think of abandoning the purity of The Order for the Outside world.
The punishment if caught…
Delilah could barely think of it. “Anna… no. We will be caught.”
“ We will not. I have planned for a fortnight.”
Delilah closed her eyes, guilt swirling through her over the lingering comfort the water provided for her. “The ceremony is over now. I will recover and we will be okay. Sanctum is our home.”
Quite filled the space for so long that Delilah half believed Anna took her words to heart and left.
“No,” Anna whispered. “It is not.”
Delilah opened her eyes again, her vision swimming. “I don’t understand.”
Anna exhaled shakily. “The Prophet… he announced my marriage during morning service.”
Delilah’s cracked lips pulled into a weak smile. “A wedding?”
Her mind raced with all of the things that would need to be done before the day. She would get to bake, and decorate, and help her sister tailor their mother’s wedding dress. Warmth flooded through her at the thought of a bit of happiness in an otherwise bleak existence.
“You have asked for the Prophet to find a match for you. Why are you upset?”
Without blinking, Anna coldly retorted, “I am to be married. To Disciple Jefferson.”
The words sent a spear of ice into Delilah’s heart.
“No.” She shook her head, pushing past the physical agony. “That can not be right. He is… he is…”
“Eighty,” Anna finished bitterly.
Delilah’s throat constricted. Her stomach rolled.
“I will speak to the Prophet,” she said, grasping at something that felt like logic. “He will change his mind.”
Anna’s expression twisted. “You know he will not. His word is divine. If he says it is the will of God, then it is.”
Delilah flinched.
It was true.
Anna surged forward. “I have to go, Lila. I can not marry him. And I will not leave you behind.”
Delilah’s eyes filled with fresh tears. Her body screamed in protest, every nerve on fire. Her mind was a tangle of fear and doctrine and love.
“I am an Omega,” she murmured. “If I leave… one of the beasts will find me.”
The Alphas. That’s what the Elders of The Order called them. Beasts. Monsters. Unholy things, ruled by lust and violence. Omegas like her were a rare curse, a blight of temptation in a world already drowning in sin.
Alphas were Devils and Omegas were Demons sent to tempt them into evil.
Anna was a Beta. If she left the Order, she wouldn’t immediately catch an Outsiders attention.
Things were different for her. She was only safe inside the borders of the Order, where Alphas were forbidden.
Anna gripped her hand again, gentler this time. “I will protect you.” She rubbed her fingers against Delilah’s knuckles soothingly. “There is someone waiting for us. He is kind and willing to help. You only have to say yes. Just say yes.”
Delilah stared at her sister’s pale, desperate face. Her body throbbed with pain, but a different ache was blooming in her chest; grief, fear, and something unspoken gripped her.
“This is the only place we’re safe,” she said again, weaker this time.
Anna’s eyes filled with tears.
“You promised Mother.”
Delilah gasped softly, the words hitting like a lash. Their mother’s final wish had been for them to stay together. That they look after each other.
For a moment, she could almost feel her mother’s gentle hands, her fading voice, the warmth of her embrace. How could she let her sister go out into the Outside world without her?
She could not. She would not.
She opened her eyes again and saw her sister, not just frightened, but determined.
And beneath the fear, Delilah felt something stir.
The smallest flicker of hope.
“I’m scared,” she whispered.
“I am too,” Anna replied. “But we’ll be scared together.”
Delilah nodded, tears sliding down her cheeks unchecked.
“Okay,” she breathed. “I’ll go with you.”
