Muerte (Stygian Isles #1) Read Online Natalie Bennett

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark Tags Authors: Series: Stygian Isles Series by Natalie Bennett
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Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
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Garrett simmered but chose a moment of intelligence and remained silent, his face going cherry red.

“Pull the women away,” I ordered as I lowered the blade. The Disciples moved with silent efficiency, herding them to three different corners. I pushed the decorative coffee table aside, revealing a hidden drain in the floor. Garret’s eyes widened in horror as he pieced together its purpose.

I savored the fear that spread across the man’s face. It was a fear born of realization and finality, the understanding of what was to come. This was a small essence of my rule, a hard, unyielding truth of the Isle.

“Put him on his knees.”

Before Garret could protest, my disciple grabbed a fistful of his copper, graying hair and forced him down to the stone-cold ground.

I turned and held out my hand. Understanding my silent command, the man’s wife was moved into my reach.

“No,” she hissed like a pissed-off cat and tried to pull away. Her strength was no match for mine, and with a shove from my disciple, I had the woman where I wanted her, my chest to her back.

She trembled, sweat soaking through her oversized nightshirt, her dark hair a mess. She’d most likely been sleeping when she was retrieved. I brought the knife up to keep her still, encircling her throat.

“Please don’t!” Her daughter’s desperate pleas reached me and did nothing but make me think of another woman that had said those words to me that night. I couldn’t wait to get back home to her.

“Even if I didn’t want to kill you, unfortunately, I don’t have a choice. I made a promise I can’t break.”

I gripped the woman’s hair and pulled her head back to slit her throat, ensuring Garret’s face served as a siphon. He had begun to shout as I slid the blade in an arc and pulled back, cutting through the woman’s overly tanned flesh as if to sever her head.

He screamed, then gagged as his wife’s blood spurted into his mouth. I took a step back and let her lifeless body drop. She landed with a soft thud. I didn’t give an impassioned speech or explain why this was happening. Garret knew, and that was all that mattered.

This was the price of defiance, the cost of breaking our sacred laws. Their remaining daughter was a mess of hysterics. “Get him to level two and finish this.”

The disciples bowed their heads, one stepping forward to retrieve my blade before I left the room.

As anticlimactic as this tended to be, it was done. The deed was carried out with precision and a finality that left no room for doubt or remorse. I made my way back to the viewing room where my father waited. His presence was that of a stern advisor and a proud parent. He’d observed with a critical yet approving eye.

I joined him and sanitized my hands. While the sight and smell of blood were nothing new, I preferred not to carry its remnants unnecessarily. It was a matter of cleanliness, a small ritual that marked the end of one act and the beginning of another. I smiled to myself as the marks on my hand stung from the solution.

“You handled that efficiently, but with you that’s not surprising,” he remarked with a smile.

His praise was expected, yet it stirred a sense of accomplishment within me. “It’s been a while since we’ve had a breach.”

He clasped his hands behind his back, looking through the one-way glass, amusement sparking in his eyes as the blonde attempted to punch a disciple. “Only two this year. Your brother’s already handling the Oblivio.”

Of course he was. The thorough and meticulous process was something my baby brother took a cold, pragmatic pride in. To infiltrate someone's life and erase it entirely was a power that came with a deep sense of control.

“He was awake?”

“The Pleasure House.”

“Ah.” I canted my head in acknowledgement. At twenty-six, Emilio was four years younger than me and Bishop. He’d yet to make a claim on any single woman—or take a man in to serve him.

He wasn’t as bad as our cousin, though, who’d fucked his way through the entire Pleasure House at least twice.

The new girl wouldn’t be untouched by him for long, if that’s where she wound up.

Our conversation naturally shifted to Lolita.

“How is our girl settling in?”

If anyone beyond my immediate family dared to call Lolita anything less than mine, I’d rip their throats out. She was special to all of them. Promised to the Alistairs. A dark deity to our faith. Everything to me.

“I know she will embrace her role in time. She's everything she was meant to be, and more.”

“But?” he urged me to continue.

It took me a moment to reveal my thoughts. There wasn’t anyone I trusted more than my family, and my father had firsthand experience with his own Electi—my precious mother. With Lolita being home and having an opportunity to observe her so closely, I knew my initial assessment was spot on.


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