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)
It was true that my path had been set for me in many ways, but I had still chosen to follow it, hadn’t I? I hesitated before asking, “Are you happy, Aunt Adelita?”
There was a brief pause, a heavy silence that hung between us. The other women busied themselves with their own preparations, pretending not to listen. Aunt Beatrice sent me a warm, encouraging smile.
Hearing the title had Aunt Adelita’s eyes filling with immediate tears, but she didn’t shy away from my question. Instead, she gave me a knowing, bittersweet smile. “It was hard. Some days it still is, but I could never regret my babies. I think the Isle knew I needed them,” She paused, sharing a glance with Esther, who offered a soft, supportive smile. “Or the man I am bound to. Draven is... both my nightmare and my perfect fairytale.”
Her words struck something deep within me. The parallel was undeniable.
Though, unlike her, I couldn’t say Alexander was my nightmare. He was more like a dark, inescapable dream—one I didn’t mind being trapped in. The darkness that surrounded him was familiar now, almost comforting in its own way.
“My sister would be happy to know you’re so full of life, beautiful, safe and you have a family that now,” Aunt Adelita added, her smile warmer now, as if the very thought brought her a sense of peace. She reached out, pulling me into a gentle hug. “We’ll have plenty of time to talk about that later. A lifetime almost to talk about everything.”
Her words settled in my chest like a promise, and I found myself smiling despite the weight of everything. This place had a way of consuming you, of turning every moment into something darkly significant.
In the midst of it all, there was a thread that was tied to these women, and what I had become part of.
Night had begun to fall as the final preparations were completed. The women, dressed in dark, elegant gowns, fitting for the gravity of the occasion, gathered around me. Each one carried a sense of purpose, of knowing what was to come, and it gave me a strange sense of calm.
Together, we left the room, moving in unison through the grand halls of the estate, the sound of our footsteps echoing against the stone floors. My heart raced, but there was a quiet resolve within me. As we made our way toward the Chapel where the Rite would take place, I couldn’t help but think that this moment, this night, was inevitable. It was as if the Isle had known all along that I would end up here,
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The limo rolled to a stop at the back of the Chapel, and the women with me fell into a quiet reverence. The car had been full of chatter on the way here, but now, with the weight of the night pressing down on us, the silence was all-consuming. Esther sat beside me, her hand lightly resting on my knee, a silent gesture of support as I took a deep breath.
We stepped out, the cool evening air biting against my skin, but I barely noticed. The Chapel loomed before me—its grand structure seemed to breathe with the night, an imposing silhouette against the sky.
I was guided through the rear entrance by Esther and a masked disciple, my heels clicking against the stone floor, and there, waiting for me, was Draven.
He had an air of quiet power about him, his presence commanding. His gaze held mine, and for a brief moment, he gave me a nod—approval, understanding and pride. He reached out and took my hand, his grip firm but not unkind.
“You look stunning and ready,” Draven said, his voice a low rumble. There was a warmth in his eyes, despite the chilling formality of his demeanor. “Are you?”
I swallowed, nodding. “I am.” The words felt more like a mantra, something I had to tell myself over and over, but the truth was... I wanted this. I wanted him.
Draven's hand squeezed mine. “You’re becoming one of us now, truly. There’s no going back.”
His words didn’t unsettle me the way they once might have.
I had already made my choice, and tonight was about proving it. The Chapel had been transformed, every inch of the space reflecting the dark beauty of the Isle. Dark roses cascaded from the ceiling, spilling down onto the floor like a river of blood. Candles flickered in tall glass pillars, their light casting eerie shadows that danced along the stained-glass windows. It was like something out of a gothic fairytale—a twisted, beautiful vision. It was both haunting and breathtaking.
“Your gown,” Draven said as he gestured to Esther, who quickly adjusted the long, flowing train behind me. I looked around, unable to help the awe that seeped into my expression. I had known this would be extravagant, but not like this. This felt more like a coronation than a wedding.