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)
He knew who I was talking about without needing more explanation. “That’s not the whole reason, but it definitely played a part in it," he openly admitted. "The blood that flows through your veins is the same that flows through mine."
My heart dropped. "W-what do you mean by that?"
He took a step closer, his chest nearly pressing against mine. "Jamison and Cassandra," he began, his eyes gleaming in the dim light. "Did you notice anything about them?"
I blinked, feigning ignorance, trying to delay as my mind raced. "She's pregnant," I offered lamely.
He smiled, that knowing grin that made my stomach flip.
"You're adorable when you try to be naive," he teased. "What else?"
I felt my chest tighten. There was no way to pretend long term that I didn’t understand what he was hinting at even if I didn’t want to admit it.
"No, no..." I stammered, taking a step away from him. "How old are you?"
He chuckled. "Still in my prime. Close to thirty-one."
"So almost eleven years on me." I stared at him, and he stepped closer, eliminating the space I’d just created. I tilted my head up, forced to look into the eyes that seemed to see through everything.
"You didn't answer me.”
"They...look like siblings," I murmured. "But you said that was his wife."
He grinned. "On the Isle, you'll find that's common."
"But she's pregnant." The words stumbled out of my mouth.
I wasn't even sure why I said it, why that fact stood out to me in the midst of all this. He laughed lightly; his amusement clear as he closed the remaining space between us and wrapped an arm around my waist. "Yes, that generally happens when two people sleep with one another," he teased. "But there's more to it than that."
I exhaled heavily, trying to keep it together, but my mind was racing, searching for a way out of this conversation. I wasn’t ready to face it, I couldn’t.
"We're not brother and sister," he said softly, his tone smooth and deliberate, as if he could sense the direction of my thoughts before I could even voice them.
"But we are something." The words came out of me reflexively, my mind trying to make sense of this twisted reality.
"Indeed, we are," he confirmed.
My heart pounded harder, and I tried to rationalize his words.
He wasn’t talking about actual blood ties.
He couldn’t be.
The Isle had its own ways of connecting people, binding them through lineage, through the beliefs of this place, but that didn’t mean we were actually related by blood, right? My thoughts spun, clinging to that logic. He must’ve meant we were tied together by some ancient tradition or ritual, not by genetics.
It had to be that.
"You could’ve just left me alone," I said suddenly. I needed to deflect, to steer this conversation away from the disturbing implications of what he was saying. "You have others here, right? Other fam—women. Aren't you still mar—?"
Before I could finish, his hand was in my hair, his fingers tightening as he yanked my head back, forcing me to meet his eyes. The suddenness of it made me gasp. His grip was harsh and possessive, his lips hovering dangerously close to mine.
"I will have one wife," he stated calmly, each word dripping with finality, "and that is you."
The intensity in his gaze made my pulse quicken, but not out of fear. It was something else entirely. His words, his touch—they left no room for doubt. He wasn’t just claiming me; he was stating a fact, one that I couldn’t argue. His grip on my hair tightened, pulling me closer until our faces were inches apart.
"You were meant for me in every way that matters."
I suppressed a whimper as his grip tightened further.
"You've been doing so well," he murmured, his lips brushing lightly against mine.
To anyone else, it might have seemed caring, gentle even, but I felt the warning beneath his words, a dangerous undertone that sent a chill through me.
"I'd hate for us to have to start back at square one."
"Let me go," I whispered, my heart racing. The shift in his demeanor was tangible, and every instinct I had screamed for me to put distance between us.
His grip loosened just a fraction but didn’t release me. I was still trapped against him. He enjoyed watching me struggle.
"I can't do that," he replied softly. "We haven’t gotten to the reason I brought you in here yet."
“Why am I here then?”
"Acolyte Selena informed me that you and another Electi thought to interrupt our service earlier."
Selena. Of course, it was her. I was sure Seraphine would’ve done the same, but the other woman beat her to it.
"Careful, Lolita," he murmured, his voice a quiet threat. "It’s not wise to speak ill of those who serve me, especially not in a place as sacred as this."
I hadn’t realized I’d said her name aloud. “I wasn’t speaking ill of her,” I countered evenly.