I wanted to find and protect her, but that led right back to the issue of not knowing where she was. I’d always been the more level-headed and practical one, so this sense of responsibility wasn’t new.

  The scenario was, and I didn’t know where to begin figuring it out.

  The price of my defiance might not be mine to pay alone. Alexander was a man of voided depth and unpredictability. He had the power to grant mercy or inflict cruelty with a mere whim. I had witnessed and experienced it firsthand. The only reason I was relatively unharmed was because, in his twisted mind, I belonged to him.

  Anya had no one.

  I wiped away an errant tear and chugged the rest of my water to help settle my stomach. I couldn’t begin to guess where Anya would be being kept. Going in guns blazing wasn’t an option. I barely knew my way around this house, much less the area surrounding it. Finding her and escaping just to wind up lost or hunted down like rabid animals would only leave us worse off.

  Esther and Nicolette entered the room just as I was straightening in my chair, moving with a graceful synchronicity.

  “Did you enjoy the food?” Esther asked with a warm smile.

  “I did,” I replied honestly, leaving out the fact that her brother had ruined it, and right now all I wanted to do was throw everything up onto the table.

  I stared at her pretty face and saw so much of Alexander it was a little disturbing. Her personality seemed to be the exact opposite of his—that, or she was an amazing actress. But kind words and friendly smiles weren’t enough to fool me into trusting her. Nicolette blocked my view of Esther and leaned down slightly, as if about to tell me a secret. Her dark brown eyes locked with mine, holding a hint of mischief and something else.

  “In about an hour or so, the smoothie should begin to work. I imagine that extra boost of energy will do you wonders after the night you had.”

  I blanched and jerked away from her. I couldn’t sense any malicious intent behind the playful goad, but how could she make light of something so personal? I was still struggling to come to terms with what had been done to me. I didn’t want to acknowledge or discuss what had happened, let alone with someone that was even more of a stranger to me than Alexander was.

  “Nicolette!” Esther’s swift reprimand cut through the air.

  She glanced from me to Esther and seemed to realize the impact her words had had. “Oh, I didn’t mean to—”

  “Just stop talking, Nikki.” Esther stepped forward and all but shoved the other girl out of the way. “How about that tour?”

  I nodded, desperate for the distraction and a better idea of the house’s layout.

  Guided by Esther, I left the dining room—and Nicolette—behind. She caught up to us a few minutes later.

  The grandeur of the first floor, with its gothic architecture and luxurious furnishings, was unlike anything I had ever experienced, even working at Millennium. When we reached the formal living room, I was met with the same breathtaking view as before.

  The lake’s calm waters reflected the beaming sunlight. I couldn't help but be captivated by the serene beauty of the landscape, yet my heart ached as I took in the splendor around me. It was like something out of a dark fairytale, a place where secrets whispered in the corridors and shadows played tricks on the mind.

  If things were different and I was here of my own free will, I would’ve loved this place. I wouldn’t have seen it as a gilded prison.

  As I looked out at the water, the question that had been gnawing at the back of my mind slipped out.

  “Where exactly am I?”

  Esther's response was cheerful, as if sharing a delightful secret. "You're on Stygian Isle.”

  “Isle as in…?”

  “It’s an island.” Nicolette confirmed my earlier suspicion and fear.

  My captivity was rapidly becoming more severe than I thought. To escape wasn't a simple matter of slipping past guards or scaling walls. It meant navigating the unknown waters of an expansive lake. I was a decent swimmer thanks to swimming class in junior high, but I couldn’t exactly swim away from here. Not to mention what might be lurking beneath all that pretty water.

  I was practically cut off from the rest of the world right now. But that didn’t mean I was trapped for good.

  Alexander had been off this island and the visiting tourists were coming and going somehow. I doubted it was by plane, which meant it had to be by boat. Before I could dwell too much, Esther whisked me away to continue the tour. She guided me through the upper levels and shared its history, explaining that the home had been built here ages ago.

  It wasn’t until Alexander assumed his role as Diabolus that it had undergone renovations while still retaining its historical charm. We eventually reached a study with a closed door. Esther gestured towards it and explained in a low voice, "That's Alexander's office. He's there now, working as always."

  Knowing he was a mere few feet away, separated only by an embellished door, had me eager to continue. It was Nicolette this time that seemed to understand my silence. With a light touch on my upper arm, she urged me to keep moving.

  The final destination of the tour was a lavish and inviting library. The room’s aesthetic fit perfectly with the rest of the house. Dark wooden bookshelves that took up entire walls, richly upholstered furniture, and a grand fireplace that beckoned with warmth. Esther instructed me to sit in one of the chairs while she and Nicolette went to retrieve something.

  I settled into the padded seat and closed my eyes, attempting to alleviate the dull throbbing in my head. A soft thud cut my break short. I turned and looked at the ornate table beside me, where a thick black book now sat.

  It bore a striking emblem—an intricate, sinister cross centered within a serpent consuming its own tail. A thin but solid chain and a small lock secured it, as if guarding its secrets from prying eyes. The word Impío was carved into the thick leather cover.

  “Is this your…?” I trailed off, trying to remember what Alexander had called it.

  “This our Codex,” Nicolette confirmed for me. “Otherwise known as our doctrine.”

  “Why is there a lock and chain?”

  Esther ran a hand over the book, as if revering it. “It’s an original work, a sacred text that has been passed down through generations.”

  With the way she was feeling up the thing, maybe I should have asked if she wanted some alone time with it.

  “Only a select few are allowed to read this particular edition. Anytime you feel the need to study or learn on your own outside of the Chapel, this will be at your disposal.”

  With an exceedingly gentle motion, she unlocked the chain, her actions careful and deliberate. Once the book was placed into my hands, a strange sensation coursed through me, as if the tome itself pulsed with a dark, forbidden power.

  It was massive and, judging by the worn leather, close to ancient. I had to force myself to open it, hating the instant intrigue I felt as I held the substantial weight of it in my hands. As I opened the cover, the pages revealed arcane symbols and cryptic wording. I tentatively flipped through the first few, scanning the text.

  Some of the sections had been mercifully transcribed, but the unfamiliar and strange language left me perplexed. The more I attempted to decipher the words, the more my unease grew. The images on the pages seemed to shift and writhe beneath my gaze. An unsettling sensation settled in the pit of my stomach.

  With a quick movement, I shut the book, the pages falling together with a soft thud. That small glimpse was enough for me. I didn’t want to learn or understand what these passages meant.

  I wanted to forget I ever saw them and continue feigning heavy disinterest. I tried to shove it back into Esther’s hands, but she wouldn’t accept, her expression unreadable.

  “I know it is a lot to take in.”

  “That’s a bit of an understatement,” I replied dryly.

  “This is a book of extensive knowledge. It will help you understand our beliefs and the path we follow. It holds wisdom of our faith and our history.”

  “Has it occurred to you that I’m not doing any of this because I want to? Honestly, you can keep your secrets. I can’t decipher them anyways.”

  Ignoring my objection, she and Nicolette took a seat on either side of me and gently reopened the book. "Let’s start with the basics, our guiding principles and the teachings that shape our lives,” Esther began. “The name of our religion is Impío, which translates to ungodly.”

  “And unholy,” Nicolette added, earning an admonishing look from her friend.

  “It signifies our departure from traditional beliefs and our embrace of a different path."

  “Are you like…Satanists?” I asked, the images on the pages flashing through my mind.

  “We are most certainly not,” Esther replied with a giggle. “Our reverence transcends typical notions of devil worship. While Impío has symbolisms that can be associated with satanism, our beliefs and practices are drawn from unique traditions, beliefs, and rituals. To merely label us as satanists would be a gross oversimplification and misunderstanding of our deeply rooted faith in the Lord of the Flesh.”

  My brows slammed together. “Lord of the Flesh?”

  Nicolette chimed in, her tone holding a touch of impishness.

  "We worship a different kind of entity, one that isn't bound by notions of mercy or empathy and exists in the flesh.”

  “Can you explain that in a way I would understand?”

  “Diabolus is our Carnalis Dominus. He embodies a darkness that empowers him to lead without hesitation or restraint.”

  That was more confusing than the last explanation. All I understood was that they worshipped a man with a skewed moral compass. Of course, that’s who kidnapped me, of all people.

  They continued to explain portions of the doctrine and I listened intently, their words painting a vivid picture of a belief system that greatly diverged from the conventional. It was a world where power and dominance reigned supreme. Men were deemed superior in many aspects, but there was an inherent acknowledgment that they couldn’t thrive, or even exist, without their cherished women.

  The duality showcased a balance between dominance and reverence. Their religion was one where the most depraved of sins were celebrated and the pursuit of carnal pleasure was paramount. It was overwhelming to comprehend, yet disturbingly fascinating.

  As they continued turning the pages, the text revealed convoluted rituals, complex ceremonies, and stories that showcased the triumphs and struggles of their faith. It was all such a stark contrast to everything I had ever known, challenging the very foundation of my beliefs and morality. I wanted to rebuke and object to what they were teaching, but a part of me was deeply intrigued by all of this.

  "And the Rite I experienced?" I questioned, remembering the intense night before and the brand now on my shoulder.

  "That was a transitional ceremony," Esther explained gently. “It marks the journey from being an initiate to becoming a more integral part of our community.”

  “Is everyone branded?”

  “No,” Nicolette answered, shaking her head. “That only happens to women who have been chosen as a man’s Electi.”

  “Have you gone through it?”

  Her expression immediately shuttered. She was quick to cover it with a light laugh and slight smile.

  “I have a brand, but it’s not quite the same. Mine marks me as a member of the Ilse and Impío, whereas yours is considered an honor, since you’re wearing the emblem of your family on your body. I won’t receive one of that degree until I’ve taken the vows that bind me to my master.”

  That sounded so hollow and rehearsed, the word master still grating on my nerves. I felt a pang of sympathy for her.

  Esther cleared her throat softly and continued with her explanation. “The ceremony cemented your place as Diabolus' mistress. The final ceremony will occur when he makes you his Sponsa Diaboli. His bride.”

  “Wait, wait. Do you mean bride as in white dress with church bells ringing?”

  They shared a look, and I could tell they were holding back laughter for my benefit.

  “Well. You’ll wear a dress, but it won’t be white,” Nicolette mused.

  “And the bells that ring will be from a chapel,” Esther added playfully. “Ah, I’m so excited! I can’t believe you’re finally here.”

  I loathed I couldn’t despise her for being so joyful. Esther radiated a kind of happiness that was hard to hate or ignore, but it couldn’t overshadow how insane this all was. My place in their society had been decided for me against my will, long before I had ever met any of them or knew of their existence. It was a narrative I hadn’t chosen and seemed to be unfolding with dizzying speed.

  I’d never been anyone’s mistress. I’d barely dated. Yet I was expected to marry my captor, a man I barely knew and who was esteemed as the devil. And I couldn’t forget the part where I carried his tiny Diabolus heirs.

  Nicolette picked up where Esther had left off before I interrupted, her tone gentle and not at all mocking. "His previous bride gives her blessing during your transition from mistress to wife.”

  That summoned my full attention. It was the first time her existence had been fully acknowledged. It left me feeling strangely unsettled. Alexander had never mentioned any specifics about the woman he’d married. There was no hint or trace of her anywhere in the house.

  I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being kept in the dark about something significant.

  "Where is she?" I blurted out before I could stop myself, my curiosity getting the best of me.

  Esther looked at me and for a second, I didn’t think she was going to answer. “She is being housed until your wedding. Her presence is a testament to the honor and legacy of Diabolus, a final bridge between his past and present.”

  I frowned, my mind whirling with questions. What was her story? Why was she no longer his wife? Something must have happened for her to lose her place in his life. I didn’t get the impression he was a promiscuous man that would randomly wed just anyone. Myself a case in point.

  “What about the other branded women?” I questioned, wondering what their fates were to be.

  “Oh, they’re fine and with their masters. Their roles within our community are unique, just as yours will be.”

  I exhaled, relieved to hear that they were safe—at least, as much as they could be, given the circumstances. Slowly processing everything I had learned, a new question formed in my mind. “How are women selected to be here? Is it a common occurrence to bring people to the Isle?”

  Esther's expression turned thoughtful.

  “It’s rare for unknown bloodlines to be considered Electi. Our community values tradition and heritage. That is why your presence, as well as Pandora's and Keres’, is so special. You carry within you the potential to continue the legacy of Diabolus, and they, Impío.”

  “Wait," I interrupted again, my mind grappling with those implications. “So, we weren't chosen at random?”

  Esther's brows furrowed in confusion, as if my question was unexpected. “Of course not. You are far too special to be mere chance.”

  Alexander had alluded to this, but I didn’t believe him. I also hadn't considered the possibility that there was a method to the selection process, that we were all chosen for a reason. Thinking about it, that made so much more sense. I felt like an idiot for not realizing it sooner.

  I was a far cry from ugly, but so breathtaking an elusive millionaire with a twisted degree of power took one look at me and decided I would be his? That was highly unlikely.

  “What do you mean by bloodlines exactly?" I inquired further, curiosity driving me to dig deeper.

  Esther's gaze flickered, and she hesitated for a moment.

  I could tell she was deciding how much she would tell me before responding. “Bloodlines are crucial to our community. They ensure that power remains consolidated within a few leading families. Diabolus would never sully his legacy by giving himself to another unless he had no choice.”

  Diabolus. Alexander. Mr. Hawthorne. Whatever his true identity, he was so much more than I imagined from the first time I saw him. A small part of me couldn’t help but want to piece together the puzzle of the man that had brought me into such a clandestine world.

  “How do you manage to keep all of this hidden from the tourists who visit the Isle?” I’d seen with my own eyes that this place wasn’t as private as I’d imagined, given the extremes of such an unorthodox society.

  “Each visitor is vetted, given a non-disclosure to sign, and provided with an identification card that restricts their movement to certain areas. Anyone caught breaking the agreed-upon terms is swiftly and discreetly dealt with,” Nicolette explained.

  My brow furrowed slightly. “Dealt with how?”

  “As you would expect when dealing with those who threaten our secrets and way of life.”

  “We should discuss other aspects of the doctrine.” Esther attempted to change the subject, her voice carrying a subtle urgency.

  I couldn't be deterred that easily. “No, I want to know. How do you make sure outsiders never reveal your secrets if they somehow find them out?”

  “They don’t find out. That’s the point, Lolita. If by some small chance they do, no one can save them.”

  Her eyes held a hint of darkness as they met mine. "Our methods are efficient. We value our way of life and will do whatever is necessary to protect it, especially from outsiders that would never be able to understand us.”

  Esther's gaze shifted to Nicolette, her expression a mixture of reproach and irritation. With practiced grace, she redirected the conversation back to the Codex. Each word and illustration held an unspoken promise of hidden truths.

  As Esther continued to speak, my thoughts drifted, distracted by the lingering tension between the two women and everything I had learned since this morning. I was wise enough to know that Nicolette's words were meant for me. What I didn’t know was if they were a warning or a threat. Or why that bothered me so much.