“You.”

I stilled, breath held.

“You changed it all. You changed everything.”

“Rider…” I whispered brokenly. My fingers twitched. They wanted to reach for his and feel his warmth. Feel his safe touch.

“It is true. I was sheltered my entire life. I remained pure and fixed my efforts on the first woman that ever paid me attention . . . but it was all bullshit. My need for Mae was as fake as this fucking religion we have dedicated our entire life to.” Rider turned his head away from me. I did not move. He looked at me again, self-hatred in his eyes. “Bella . . . when I ascended, I . . . I liked it.

“I liked the power. I felt like everything I had sacrificed was for something. I had a path, a purpose . . . then it all started going wrong. I didn’t know how to lead the people. The elders began losing faith in me. I didn’t receive any revelations like I thought I would.” He choked on a devastated laugh. “Because no such thing existed. My uncle had made it all up. He was smart. He and his sick friends found that by disguising their perversions under the veil of religion, they could lure people in. Broken, lost people looking for a reason to live. Helplessly searching for a better life. Instead all he brought them was rape and repression.”

“You did not know,” I said. “You were brought up to believe it all. We all were.”

“I should have known,” he replied sternly. “Bella, I lived here with the Hangmen for five years. I saw real life, the real world. I lived it. But all that time I held on to the belief that the entire world was wrong and our small commune was right. How fucking naïve was that?”

“It was not naïve, Rider. That commune was your family. It was all you knew. I know, remember? I lived it too.”

He stared at me for the longest time. So long that I became nervous under his attention. So long that his torn and shamed face frosted into an icy expression. “I let it happen,” he said dully. “All of it.”

I swallowed hard.

“I allowed the Klan’s men to take Lilah. They were meant to take Mae. Then I washed my hands of her and let Judah punish her.”

“You did not know what Judah would do to her, what the other elders would do. Even Lilah believes you were trying to save her.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Every one of my muscles seemed to drain of blood. Had I been wrong about Rider? I feared that all his pain and self-hatred was a ruse. But then his lips trembled, and a single teardrop fell from his eye . . . and I knew he was the man I always knew him to be. “I think . . . I think, deep down, I knew all along that Judah was bad . . . cruel . . . sadistic . . . ”

“Rider,” I cried and began to move closer. He held out his hand, motioning for me to stop. The chains hanging from the cuffs scraped on the floor beside him.

“I . . . I think I knew. But did nothing, because, Bella . . . if I didn’t have Judah . . . ” An anguished noise slipped from his throat and his face contorted in agony. “Then . . . then I didn’t have anybody.”

I could not have stopped my tears if I tried. This time no outstretched hand would have stopped me from reaching my husband. And this time, when I dropped down beside him, Rider let me envelope his large body in my arms. He fell into my chest and let all the pain he harbored in his heart free. The chains dug into my legs where I sat. I did not care in the slightest.

“Rider,” I whispered and smoothed his long hair back from his damp face. “I am here . . . I am here.” My words only forced a louder cry from his mouth. I rocked him back and forth, my tears falling to mix with his on the dirt-ridden floor.

“I’m all alone,” he choked out through his agony. “I’m so fucking alone . . . so fucking confused . . . ”

“No,” I told him and moved my hands to his cheeks. My heart tore at how much pain he was in. I had never seen someone so destroyed. Even in my worst times, I always had the love of my sisters. In recent times, of Brother Stephen and Sister Ruth . . . Rider, he had had no one.

Absolutely no one at all. And worst of all, most of the people he did know hated him. Truly, venomously, hated him.

Rider broke down for many minutes more. When his tears ran dry, he inhaled a ragged breath. “I deserve to die. There is nothing I can do to right everything that I’ve done. I fucking deserve to die.”

“No,” I said curtly. I kneeled in front of him, his face in my hands. I did not like the ominous tone to his voice. “You do not,” I challenged. Rider squeezed his eyes shut and tried to turn his head. I refused to let him go.