Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 127933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
"What do you think?" His voice was low, the smooth cadence of his words cutting through the quiet like a blade.
I hesitated. What was I supposed to think?
That this place, this Chapel soaked in ritual and blood, was beautiful? That it was grand and imposing, fitting for a man who ruled over an island like a god? Because the truth was, I did think that. I also saw it for what it truly was—a gilded cage, one that held me as surely as the brand burned into my skin.
"It’s…" I searched for the right words, ones that wouldn’t betray the turmoil raging inside me. "It’s... overwhelming," I finally managed, the understatement almost choking me.
A small smile played on his lips, but his eyes didn’t soften. They gleamed, a mixture of pride and something darker. "Overwhelming can be good.” His hand reached out to gently touch the small of my back. "It reminds you of your place. Your importance."
"My place..." I echoed. "Everyone keeps saying that. Your dad too."
Alexander's expression didn't change, but there was a flicker of acknowledgment in his eyes.
"Ah, yes. He did mention he was going to speak with you. He’s been waiting, patiently, like all of us. We've all been waiting for you." His voice was calm, the smoothness of it almost eerie in the vastness of the Chapel.
I turned toward him, my eyes narrowing. "But I can’t say the same about any of you."
The bitterness in my voice surprised even me, but I didn’t care.
He raised an eyebrow, slightly amused, but there was a glint of warning beneath his calm exterior. "And why is that, Lola?" He asked, the nickname dripping from his lips like honey.
"I had a life, you know?" I shot back, my voice rising with frustration, sharp and raw as it echoed through the vast space of the chapel. "Before all of this—before you and your Isle." I gestured wildly, my hand sweeping across the room, from the cold altar to the towering statue.
Alexander sighed, the faintest hint of amusement still tugging at the corners of his mouth, but his eyes had darkened, the condescension there subtle but unmistakable. "Ah, Delicia, not this again," he murmured, the tone almost dismissive.
His hand slipped from my back as he began to circle me, his movements slow, deliberate, each footstep tapping against the marble floor, filling the silence I’d created. "We’ve discussed this before," he continued, his voice calm and steady, almost soothing in its rhythm. "That life you speak of... it wasn’t truly yours. It was borrowed temporarily, like a disguise. You wore it, but it never really fit, did it?"
I opened my mouth to protest, to tell him he was wrong, but no words came. My memories—of the factory, the hotel, the endless cycle of mundane tasks and doing all I could just to eat and keep a roof over my head—seemed to flicker and dim in the face of his quiet certainty.
"You hated that life," he pressed gently, his voice softening as though he were offering me some hidden truth. "Those people out there looked down on you, every day. You were expendable and unnoticed. Invisible, really. Always beneath them, always judged. But now..." He paused, stepping closer. His eyes held mine, unwavering. "Now, those same people would fall to their knees before you."
My breath caught in my throat. The weight of his words hung in the air between us, impossible to ignore. I hadn't thought of it like that, but there was something undeniable in what he said. Something that made me pause.
"You were chosen, Lolita," his voice weaved around me, pulling me closer. "Not just by me, but by the Isle itself. Stygian, this life—it’s in your blood, something for which you were born. You’ve spent so long being unseen, and overlooked, but here you are revered. You’ll never be cast aside, never be beneath anyone—except me, of course." His hand slid down my arm, fingers grazing my skin like a brand.
"You have power now. Those who once thought themselves above you would be brought to their knees if you wished it. This is your place, where you belong—by my side.”
I swallowed, the ache of something unspoken tightening in my chest. It was as if he were giving me a gift, not just telling me something. There was no malice in his words, no threat—only a kind of certainty, an offer of something more. I wanted to argue, but the words caught, choked by the weight of everything that had happened. The blood. The rituals. The power he held over everyone here. Over me. I wasn’t ready to surrender, but how much longer could I resist the inevitable? We were going in circles, an endless loop where he always had the upper hand. As things stood, I couldn’t win.
"Is the only reason I'm here, the reason you took me, because of two people I've never even met?"