Chapter 1

The screams of the "Proving" ceremony were the first thing I heard when I woke up.

It was a sound I never thought I' d hear again, a brutal mix of male grunts and the sharp crack of leather belts against flesh. My eyes shot open, and the scent of pine, sweat, and something metallic filled my lungs.

I was back. Back in this godforsaken survivalist compound in the middle of the Appalachian Mountains.

A hand grabbed my arm, and I flinched.

"Molly, help me! Please! They're going to hurt me!"

It was Gabrielle Chadwick, or Gabby, as she was known here. Her big, terrified eyes were fixed on me, tears already streaming down her beautiful face. She was a master of the damsel in distress act, a performance I had fallen for in our previous life.

I remembered it all. The first time we arrived here, mysteriously transported from our office jobs in the city. The shock, the fear, and the horrifying "Gauntlet" ceremony.

It was a ritual for the community's young men to claim partners. They would strike the unmarried women with leather belts, and the woman who endured the most strikes was deemed the "most desired."

In my first life, I shielded Gabby. I took the blows meant for her, believing I was protecting a friend. My body was covered in welts, but my sacrifice made me the most "honored" woman. It gave me the first choice of a partner.

I chose Caleb Scott, the strong, ambitious son of the compound's leader, the Elder. He was the alpha, the one every woman wanted. Gabby, with fewer strikes to her name, was paired with the quiet carpenter, Andrew Wright.

My life with Caleb was a private hell. His "traditional values" were a cover for a controlling, brutish nature. Gabby, meanwhile, pretended to be my friend while seething with resentment. She believed I had stolen her rightful place.

She eventually got her revenge. During a foraging trip, she pushed me off a cliff.

Now, reborn at the start of that same horrifying ceremony, Gabby was playing the same part, her hand clutching my arm, her voice a desperate plea.

"Molly, please, you have to stand in front of me!"

I looked at her, at the calculated fear in her eyes. I remembered the feeling of falling, the sharp, final impact.

This time, there would be no sacrifice.