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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“Are you staying longer?”

“Yes. I’m waiting on a call and need to finish a few things.”

I rose from my seat and began to gather my things. “I’m going to head back to the manor.”

He remained seated, watching me closely. “It’s nice to see you getting what you’ve always deserved.”

“My only regret is that it didn’t happen sooner,” I replied, exiting his office.

CHAPTER SIX

It was a quarter past ten when I finally walked through my front door. All the lights were off except for a few metal sconces that lined the wall. I made my way to the kitchen and sat my bag on the counter, fixing myself another drink before going to the guest room.

Lolita didn’t startle when I opened the door. That was a good sign. I knew from watching the cameras earlier that after exploring as far as her restraint allowed, she simply sat on the bed facing the wall with the covered windows, that forlorn look coming and going.

I wouldn’t be surprised if she were planning an elaborate escape that wouldn’t happen. I’d never let her leave me, not while her heart was still beating. Not even when it stopped. She turned my way with a wariness she tried and failed to hide.

I carried my drink to the small chest across the room, taking note of everything. Her dress was a bit wrinkled, but aside from that, she looked just as beautiful as she had the night before. I felt her eyes on me as I moved. There wasn’t so much fear as there was apprehension. Given the situation, it was a reasonable response. She needn’t feel either, though.

Not tonight.

I had no intentions of making a mess of this beautiful woman until I could pin her beneath me, bending her body to my will. I dreamt of the day she would bleed and scream for me in mindless ecstasy.

Knowing I wouldn’t have to imagine it anymore…

Fuck.

I took a generous sip of liquor and reigned myself in. I would not—could not—have her until after the first Rite was done. I took a seat in the wing-backed armchair angled towards the bed, not bothering with loose words of comfort despite my honorable intentions.

“Did our servitor attend you well?”

“Is that the woman who came in here?”

“More or less.”

She wet her lips and adjusted her position on the bed, a sign she was beginning to feel uncomfortable again. “A few lessons in hospitality couldn’t hurt.”

There was a dry sarcasm in her tone I didn’t expect. I took another sip of my Balvenie to suppress a pleased grin. “What did she say to you?”

“Nothing I understood.”

“Then she said too much.”

“None of it was helpful to me,” she doubled down.

“So unhelpful you couldn’t find the will to eat?”

She glanced at the untouched bowl of soup and then looked away, her expression becoming shuttered. “I wasn’t hungry.”

I sat my drink to the side and stood. Her gaze flew to mine, and apprehension colored her features. I started to walk towards her, and she slowly moved off the bed.

It was mildly amusing that somewhere in that pretty head of hers, she might’ve had the notion she would be able to prevent me from doing whatever I wanted. Even with adrenaline racing through her veins and the kind of power that came with desperation, nothing could save her from me.

I reached into my pocket to retrieve my cellphone and held it up to convey I meant no harm.

I moved past her and resisted the urge to reach out and touch every visible part of her soft skin. I knew once I felt her beneath my fingertips, I wouldn’t want to stop, and tonight wasn’t about that. I’d waited all this time to have her home. Holding out for another twenty-four hours would make it even more worthwhile.

I studied the tray Kennedy had left. The bottle of water was empty, so she’d at least been somewhat hydrated. There was a small tinge of dark red on the end of the spoon. Other than that, it seemed the food was relatively untouched. I sent a text to Isaac and returned to my chair, enjoying the look of confusion on Lolita’s face. I could practically see the cogs turning inside her head as she tried to figure out what I was doing.

Minutes later, a light knock sounded, and I called out for Kennedy to enter.

Isaac opened the door and nudged her forward but didn’t follow. She was in nothing but a thin nightgown that left little to the imagination and her normally plaited hair was down. He had to have snatched her right out of bed.

“Thank you, Isaac.”

He touched the rim of his Breton and walked away to resume patrolling the property. Kennedy stood motionless, a neutral expression on her face.

“Diabolus,” she greeted quietly.

“Do you know why I called for you?”



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