Chapter 8

Cyrus

“If we lived in one of the more religious parts of this country, you’d be hanged for what you’re doing, you know?” Brock said.

He raised his hands when he caught my sour facial expression. “I don’t mean any harm; I’m just stating a fact here.”

“There’s no truth in that. She’s my mate, and she belongs here with me.”

Brock scoffed. “She’s a priestess, and you’re keeping her here against her will.”

“She’s not here against her will,” I argued. “She can leave whenever she wants.”

“Sure. You’ll just burn the chapel down again if she does.”

“Correct.”

My uncle shook his head at me. “Bastard. I don’t know why you ended up such a scoundrel. My brother raised you well, you know.”

The mention of my father made me sad, the way it usually did, so I changed the subject abruptly. “I can’t send her back. You wouldn’t either.”

“I know she’s your mate, and that being around her feels magical or whatever, but you’ve got to respect her choice in this. What you’re doing is wrong.”

I exhaled sharpl