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Prologue

PROLOGUE

A week and a half.

It had been a week and a half since I'd eaten properly. I'd been sick with a bad cold and had dozed off at church during my father's sermon. I didn't know if he'd seen me from the pulpit as he preached—the most likely scenario, since we sat in the front pew—or if my mother had caught me from her place at the front of the choir, but the result was the same. I was not to be given meals at home for two weeks. I was allowed lunches at school because they couldn't really stop that, but otherwise, I was to go hungry.

'Hungry' was not the word to describe the gnawing in my guts. I was only twelve, and I'd heard our parishioners say things about me being a growing boy, but didn't growing boys need food? I was always hungry on a typical day, and Mother would feed me less if I complained about it, telling me she would not abide her child reveling in the sin of gluttony.

Father had said the hunger would bring me closer to God. I half-wondered if he meant he hoped it would kill me. That was a horrible thing to think, and I felt guilty when it crossed my mind because my parents were raising me to be a good, godly person.

Weren't they?

The words in my head were spiraling, and I lay in my bed in my tiny room, squeezed my eyes shut, and prayed for sleep. If I slept, I could forget the void in the pit of my stomach.

When the dream finally materialized, I was in a kitchen I had never seen before. It was a medium-sized room with white cabinets, beautiful rectangular tiles in all shades of green on two walls, and wallpaper covered in equally green palm fronds on the other two. The floor was covered in cream-colored tiles topped with a black and white checkered rug.

There were so many patterns in the room that my eyes weren't sure where to go, but they landed on the sole occupant. From behind, all I could tell was that they were probably shorter than me, had long pale hair, and were wearing an apron that was a very loud pink with big black polka dots on it.

I cleared my throat and they swung around, eyes wide.

His eyes were beautiful, a deep yellow gold that drew me in.

"Who...?" He looked me up and down with those beautiful eyes, then gave me a smile that looked sad for some reason. "I was just about to bake a cake," he told me. "Do you want to help?"

I frowned in confusion. I could always control my dreams, but my intuition told me things were out of my hands for some reason. It wasn't something I could put a finger on, exactly, but this didn't feel like a typical dream. "What are you making a cake for?"

"I have a meeting at work tomorrow," the man said. "I want to take the cake with me."

My frown deepened. That made no sense. Maybe the hunger was making my dreams nonsensical, and that was why things felt off. "Why are you taking a cake to a business meeting?"

He grinned widely. Was I imagining it, or were his incisors extra-pointy? "Well, they say that a party without a cake is just a meeting, so I'm hoping I can turn the meeting into a party if I bring cake."

I laughed. "That's a weird kind of logic," I told him.

"Maybe," the man agreed happily, "but it's still an excuse for cake. Who doesn't like cake?"

"I don't know if I like it or not," I admitted in a mumble, looking at the floor in embarrassment. "I'm not allowed to eat it."

"Seriously?" he asked. "You're not allowed to eat cake ?" He let out a huff. "That's just bullshit. I'll tell you what, if you help me make the cake, I'll let you try it."

I looked up, staring at him with eyes wide with surprise. "Really?" I asked hopefully.

"Absolutely," the man confirmed. "Come here and stand next to me; you can hand me things when I ask for them, okay?"

I nodded and stepped closer, standing beside him. He started explaining what he was doing, and I found myself captivated as I watched him. It wasn't just his eyes, either, I realized. He was so pretty. No, it was more than that. I thought he was beautiful , possibly the most beautiful person I'd ever seen.

I wondered what it would be like to kiss him.

Fear immediately started to grip my insides as realization dawned on me. I was a boy. Boys were supposed to like girls or they would go to Hell as sinners, but I'd never been interested in girls. Not like I was interested in the person standing next to me.

As I started to drown in my panic, the beautiful blond man said, "Hey, you okay?"

His voice snapped me out of it, and I forced a smile onto my face. "I'm fine," I said. I'd keep my newfound knowledge locked deep inside my heart. My parents would never know. God... Well, maybe God would forgive me if I stayed obedient to my parents and prayed a lot. I'd be fine. Everything would be fine.

After all, this was just a dream.

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