"So, we're supposed to be thrilled about popping out babies, being chained to a kitchen, and making ourselves available whenever they demand? For the record, I've never been keen on the idea of having kids. I'm not the kid type," Keres retorted.

  Seraphine's laughter, light and seemingly understanding, did little to ease the discomfort we were feeling. “That way of thinking is common for those not raised among us," she explained with a reassuring smile. "But this is more than just conforming to roles; it's about discovering and embracing your true nature. It's understandable that you're resistant now, given your upbringing. With time, you'll see the freedom in our ways."

  Her eyes then settled on me. There was a depth to her gaze that made me uneasy. "I give you my word. You'll each find your place eventually and become who you were always meant to be."

  Selena glanced at Seraphine before interjecting with a note of understanding. “Change is always sudden and can be unwelcome, but your presence here is no accident; it is destiny."

  Their idea of destiny was an awfully convenient excuse for what was essentially kidnapping. Seraphine continued, unfazed.

  "It’s not all about child rearing and servitude. Outside your natural roles, your responsibilities include upholding the doctrine of our faith, supporting our community, and representing the pinnacle of Impío virtue."

  Thinking about what Nicolette had revealed earlier, I found my voice. "And if we fail in these responsibilities?"

  Seraphine's gaze swiveled to me, as sharp as a whip, her words brooking no room for argument.

  "Failure is not an option, Lolita. You will not have to worry about the outcome of doing so. The Isle does not make mistakes. Diabolus does not make mistakes. There is a reason you are his."

  I felt a surge of anger at her insinuation of ownership, the words echoing in my mind like a sinister mantra. The notion that it was widely accepted that Alexander had some predestined claim over me was revolting. That went for the women beside me as well.

  We’d been branded me like cattle, and I’d had a blade taken to my skin as if it were Alexander’s personal canvas. As I opened my mouth to retort, a subtle nudge from Keres caught me off guard. She shook her head slightly, a silent advisement not to bother. Reluctantly, I swallowed the harsh words that had risen in my throat.

  The remainder of the session blurred into a stream of daunting rules and roles. The mention of our next lesson being about the families we were now bound to only deepened my sense of entrapment.

  Seraphine ended her lecture suggesting we get to know one another better. It felt like a hollow attempt at camaraderie. She retreated to her desk and promptly put pen to paper.

  Keres, sensing the tense atmosphere, broached a light, inconsequential topic. I quickly understood her intent; this was a strategic move to steer our conversation away from anything that might cross a line with the men we’d been paired with. She was being smart—safe. Her wit and charm had become evident as we sat together. I admired her ability to adapt.

  “So, what was everyone’s favorite hobby before we rounded up and dropped here?” she asked, a hint of mischief in her voice.

  It was a nice change of pace, distant from the reality that now enveloped us. Pandora's response came with a gentle, almost wistful smile.

  “I was really into ice skating. Playing the piano, too. They were always...my escape.”

  It was difficult to reconcile the image of a woman who found solace in the delicate dance on ice and tender keys of a piano with the harsh reality of our surroundings.

  I remembered the unsettling sight of her being led by a man in a skulled deer mask, a surreal and jarring contrast to her serene demeanor. I couldn't help but wonder if her blindness shielded her from the full horror of our situation, or if it made her feel even more trapped.

  Keres looked at me, her grey eyes expectant. “What about you, Lolita?”

  I hesitated, then shared a piece of my past, something more recent. “I worked at a resort. I liked exploring the nearby trails on my days off. Nature always felt... freeing.” The irony wasn’t lost on me. I gave a slight shake of my head. “If I wasn’t doing that, I camped out in bed binging a Turkish drama.”

  Keres laughed, a sound that held both warmth and a hint of sorrow. “Freeing, huh? That’s something we could all use a bit more of now.”

  "Yeah," I replied quietly, a tinge of sorrow lining my words. There was a strange comfort in not being alone in this ordeal, yet the thought of Anya somewhere on this Isle, potentially enduring something worse, brought a fresh wave of heartache. I knew without a doubt she didn’t have the same comforts I did.

  Pandora turned her unseeing eyes towards Keres. "What about you?"

  Keres leaned back, a rueful smile playing on her lips. "Horseback riding," she began, her voice holding a note of nostalgia. "And I had a thing for art too, especially painting. It was my way of expressing things I couldn't put into words." She sighed, her gaze drifting off as if she could see her past laid out before her. "Feels like a lifetime ago now."

  The conversation continued in this vein, each of us sharing fragments of our lives, careful to avoid the edges of our current reality. As we talked, I noticed Selena observing me, her expression tinged with something akin to wistful contemplation.

  The door suddenly swung open, abruptly halting our conversation. Alexander entered first, followed by two men whose presence filled the room. Their attire was an embodiment of the hierarchy and style characteristic of the Isle's elite—finely tailored dark suits that accentuated their forms impeccably.

  One of the men went directly to Pandora, greeting her with a gentle touch on her cheek. I remembered another of Nicolette’s warnings and made sure the notice I took of him was fleeting. I was surprised this was the man beneath the deer mask. He didn’t look like I imagined.

  He was the same height as Alexander with a tad bigger build, double the tattoos, and a head of dark, slightly wavy hair. His deep-set eyes were an odd shade of forest green and stood out against tanned skin. A sharp jawline and high cheekbones gave him an intensity that was hard to ignore. Before him, Pandora’s body language remained reserved, her hands resting demurely in her lap, hinting at a cautious awareness.

  The third and final man was the epitome of arrogance. His every step radiated a self-assuredness that bordered on superiority. His features were sharply defined, an air of confidence etched into his very being. His eyes, dark and penetrating, held a hint of amusement as they met Keres' barely concealed scorn. As he drew nearer, her posture stiffened, a subtle but tangible sign of her discomfort.

  Yet, despite her apparent aversion, she managed to maintain her outward composure. The man, seemingly unperturbed by her obvious disdain, leaned in with an almost taunting smirk playing on his lips and whispered something in her ear that even I couldn’t hear, resulting in her outright scowling.

  It was clear he relished the power dynamics at play, thriving on the tension he elicited. It reminded me of a certain someone. The commanding aura surrounding these men mirrored that of Alexander, whose attention had turned towards Seraphine.

  "How did they fare today?" he questioned with an authoritative tone.

  "Exceptionally well, Diabolos," she replied, her voice laced with a deep respect.

  My gaze caught on Selena, observing her as she watched him.

  This went beyond reverence; it hinted at something deeper, more personal. When Alexander acknowledged her with a nod, her response was an almost hesitant whisper.

  Their brief exchange piqued my curiosity. Now that I thought about it, Selena seemed like she would be a suitable match for him. I wasn’t sure if he had a type, but with her light blue eyes fringed by thick lashes, full, rose-painted lips and wavy, chestnut hair that reached the small of her back, she was undeniably pretty.

  Our eyes met for a fleeting moment, revealing a glimpse of fear before she quickly averted her gaze. I couldn’t be reading into that right. She couldn’t possibly have been afraid of me. Alexander followed my line of sight, scrutinizing Selena with a neutral expression. He walked to where I was sitting and reached out, taking my hands in his, coaxing me to stand.

  I rose slowly, acutely aware of every pair of eyes in the room now fixated on us. He loomed over me, his height and the broad expanse of his shoulders enveloping me in an intimate cocoon despite the audience.

  “You’re almost prettier now than you were this morning.” He tilted my head back, his fingers deftly tracing the line of my jaw, his eyes holding mine in a silent conversation, a multitude of unspoken words.

  I took a silent breath, intent on keeping my wits, and instantly wished I hadn’t. His potent cologne was a sensory reminder I didn’t need.

  "I missed you, deliciae," he murmured, his voice a soft caress against the charged silence of the room. Why was everyone watching us? His hand shifted, encircling my throat in a gentle but firm hold. Then he leaned down, his lips finding mine in a kiss that was both tender and domineering.

  A flurry of emotions fought inside me.

  With all eyes on us, I knew better than to push him away. Taking initiative from Keres, I forced away my initial stiffness and reluctantly yielded as I returned the heated kiss, the acute awareness of our audience heightening the intensity of the moment.

  His tongue stroked inside my mouth the same way it did when his face was between my legs. I suppressed a moan and focused on anything but the ache he’d effectively created. I knew this kiss was another declaration, a public affirmation of his possession and my place by his side, an act that left no room for doubt or denial.

  A light chuckle broke the silence as the others moved away. The sound had me instinctively trying to withdraw. Alexander tightened his grip on my throat, keeping me cemented in place.

  After he finally released me from the kiss, he gently rubbed his thumb over my lower lip.

  His touch then drifted down, lightly brushing against my hip before he took my hand, interlacing our fingers and letting go of my throat. As he turned to address Seraphine again, I slowly noticed that the room had emptied, save for her, Selena, and us. A flush crept up my cheeks.

  I remained silent as Seraphine promised to email a report summarizing the day's session. Her demeanor towards Alexander was a blend of deference and awe, a testament to his esteemed status.

  "Thank you, Matron," Alexander responded, his tone carrying that same sense of authority that seemed to fill the room. As we prepared to leave, he acknowledged Selena with a brief, almost imperceptible nod.

  Her response was a mix of respect and something else—a flicker of emotion quickly masked.

  “What did you think?” he asked, slowing his pace on the stairs so I kept up without falling on my face.

  “I’m still trying to figure that out.”

  As we made our way back through the Chapel, I felt the weight of Alexander’s influence not just on me but on everyone within his orbit.

  The ride back to the estate was quiet—the kind that weighed heavily in the air but wasn’t unnecessarily uncomfortable. I actually appreciated these fleeting moments of silence after days like this. It'd be nice if I had a day to decompress and think, sort through what I knew and what I didn’t.

  Alexander was engrossed in his phone, his focus seemingly in another world. It made me wonder about my own phone, wherever it was now. A sardonic thought crossed my mind. Who would I call to help me even if I had it in hand? My mind raced through the futile options.

  The police? That idea seemed absurd and hopeless. Even if I managed to contact them, Alexander would know. He always seemed to be a step ahead. I had no family. There were a few people I could call acquaintances, but that was a stretch, and my best friend was here somewhere. I’d already known I was on my own, but the reminder was still a glum one.

  I gazed out the window at the passing scenery. A conflicting sense of appreciation and resentment stirred within me. The Isle, with its hauntingly beautiful landscapes, held an allure that I begrudgingly acknowledged.

  The lush greenery, the mysterious shadows cast by the towering trees, the serene water—all of it was captivating. I despised the fact that I continued to find beauty in this place that I should detest.

  Alexander kept one hand on my knee for the duration of the ride, absentmindedly tracing patterns on my skin.

  By the time we reached the estate and he’d instructed me to wash up before we ate, darkness had come calling. I went through the motions, my mind a whirlpool of the day's revelations, the unsettling lessons, and, persistently, Anya. Where was she in all of this?

  Dinner was another extravagant affair, but Nicolette and Esther were absent and whoever had set the table had done so before we’d entered the room. The subtle sounds of people moving around the house were impossible to miss. When Alexander took notice of my curiosity, he answered my unspoken question.

  "The staff are returning. You'll meet them tomorrow.”

  “Do they live here too?”

  He cut into his steak and nodded. “They have their own quarters, beyond a door on this level.”

  I took a bite of sweet potato, not hungry but remembering all too well how he felt about that.

  “Your thoughts are quite loud. Tell me what’s on your mind,” he probed.

  I wanted to ask about the men that had taken Keres and Pandora away. About Anya. Selena too, because I knew I hadn’t imagined the way she looked at him. But Nicolette’s warning was still ringing in my head, nearly drowning out everything else. It was the reason I hadn’t broached the topic of his wives yet, either.

  “The other women…the ones that were in the room with me. Where do they go?” I questioned, edging around mentioning the men.

  “They belong to two of my Magistri Tenebrarum. Do you remember what that is?”

  “Yeah, I remember.” They were essentially two of his right-hand men, which meant they lived on one corner of the Isle I needed to stay away from.

  “You’ll be spending quite a lot of time with them going forward. We decided it would be good for you all to establish healthy, platonic relationships.”

  If I hadn’t already swallowed my water, I would’ve choked on it. Did he really have the audacity to mention healthy relationships? Him? And I didn’t have an issue being around Keres or Pandora, but I couldn’t help seeing this as yet another means to entrap me. If I grew close to them—which seemed highly likely—I would definitely struggle to leave them behind.

  He changed the subject before I could comment on it, and the next one was so unexpected I simply sat there for a moment.

  "Selena and I had an arrangement once," he began, his voice devoid of emotion. "It's long over. Our relationship is purely professional now. Loosely at that."

  Did this man miss anything? I rubbed the back of my neck, unsure how to feel now that he’d confirmed what I’d suspected earlier. There’d been a longing in her eyes, a quick shift of her gaze when she looked at him. I wasn’t going to acknowledge the pang of possessiveness that slithered through my chest. I’d ignored it then, and I intended to keep doing just that. It was wiser for me to focus on the bit of kinship I’d felt than wanting to rip her eyes out.

  "So, there's nothing between you two anymore?" I found myself asking, damn curiosity getting the better of me.

  “Nothing of importance. Selena understands her place. Or she will.”

  “Why did it end?”

  His gaze fixed on me, intense and unnerving as ever. "I used Selena at the Pleasure House because I couldn't tolerate my wife," he replied, his voice void of remorse. “I used her in every sense of the word. I enjoyed it to an extent, and then she was discarded in a generous manner.”

  I struggled to process his words, something akin to disgust and that same slippery feeling from earlier churning in my gut. The thought of him selecting Selena, as if she were an object and because he was unhappily married, didn’t sit right with me. And now, here I was, another woman under his roof.

  “I’m not sure what to say to that. I thought...or more like assumed you wouldn’t be unfaithful,” I ventured, instantly regretting my choice of words.

  He tilted his head, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. I quickly tried to correct my blunder. “I mean, not to me specifically—I was talking about your wife. Or wives?”

  His answering grin made him as pretty as the devil. Just as quickly as it appeared, it shifted into something more serious—darker. “I’ve told you, you’re all I want. There will never be another woman. You’re far more than enough. I’ve no reason to build you up just to watch you fall because I mishandled your heart.”

  “How can you say that to me?" I asked quietly. "How can you even mean it when we've just met?"

  “Lolita, if you're under the impression that I hadn't known you before now, then you haven't been listening to me at all," he said, his tone holding a hint of ice. "I didn't need to speak to you to learn who you were. I've watched you, observed you from a distance. I did everything and anything to know the tiniest details about you. You’ve always been more to me than a mere stranger, and now that you’re here with me, you’re beyond what I thought I wanted."

  He almost made stalking sound romantic. If I were to be fully honest with myself, I’d admit that Alexander didn’t feel like a complete stranger. It was as if he had woven a part of himself into the tapestry of my life without my knowledge, waiting for the moment to claim what he believed was his.

  “So long as I get down and worship you, right?”

  “Lola.” He reached over and placed his hand over mine. “The only time I want to see you on your knees is in your adoration of me, be it with those pretty lips wrapped around my dick or as I fuck you from behind.”

  My cheeks burned and I barely withheld a scoff.

  I wasn’t a prude by any means, but I hadn’t ever been subjected to someone making vulgarity sound poetic. And Lola? No one called me that. I removed his hand from mine and reached for my glass of water.