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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"I heard strawberry is your favorite.”

I accepted it and tried not to grimace. One guess where that small detail had to have come from. Jesus. How much did he know about me? What part of my life hadn't he dissected and laid bare for his perusal? I wasn’t sure I’d ever have that answer. It was unsettling. He had spent so much time gathering the smallest pieces of me, just so he could hold them close and claim them as his own.

I sipped the drink distractedly, its taste unsurprisingly perfect. Nicolette's voice pulled me back to them. "Is there any other store that caught your eye?" she inquired, her tone casual. “We could pop into one before heading to Chapel.”

Esther chimed in then, her voice light and encouraging. "Don't worry about the funds. Whatever you desire can be delivered to the estate. Just say the word."

"Just how wealthy is your brother?"

Esther smiled and took a bite of a lemony treat before answering. "If he didn’t already own the Isle and you asked for it, he would buy it for you. And if you wanted a second one, he'd make that happen too."

"Whatever you want, Lolita. If it can be bought by monetary means or taken with power, consider it yours,” Nicolette agreed.

If I wasn’t imagining things. She sounded slightly bitter. It surprised me for the simple fact that I didn’t get the impression Alexander’s people did anything less than revere him. I already knew he had money, and power, but in my head, it was to a certain extent. Their explanations shed new light on that assumption.

His money and influence weren’t the largest of my concerns, though.

The reason I was here and why he had chosen me was far more pressing.

Had he branded his other wives like he had me? And where were they? I sipped my drink and glanced around, noting some of the women from the back table were darting looks at me and then quickly looking away…blushing? What the hell was that about? My face heated in response to the not-so-subtle attention. I pretended I didn’t notice and looked out the shop windows.

I locked eyes with a familiar figure across the street and immediately stopped drinking. My heart skipped a beat as I continued to stare.

I knew him.

I’d seen him the night everything happened. His intense gaze held mine, unblinking. There were only two reasons he’d be at this place. He’d either been taken too—or he’d belonged here all along.

The latter was more likely, given his attire was similar to the few male servitors we had passed while out and about.

Nicolette's abrupt grip on my arm interrupted our stare-down. Her fingers pressed into my skin with a warning that bore pain. She leaned in, her voice a low hiss. "Don't look at other men. It's the fastest way to get yourself killed."

Her words sent a chill down my spine. Before I could ask, Esther interjected in an equally hushed tone. "Nicolette, not here," she cautioned, her eyes darting around the room. Her warning was clear: this was neither the time nor the place for such a conversation.

I resumed sipping my drink, barely tasting it anymore. The man's gaze still lingered in my mind, a haunting reminder of the world I had been torn from and the perilous situation I now found myself in.

“Don't look at other men. It's the fastest way to get yourself killed.”

Was Alexander that twisted? Another question I didn’t have the answer to. A question I wouldn’t be trying to find one for, either. While I couldn’t say for certain, my gut told me that the man whose name was carved into my thigh wouldn’t hesitate to take my life if he decided I deserved to die.

As we made our way back to the designated pick-up point, our steps echoing lightly on the cobblestone path, Nicolette's voice broke the stilted silence. Her tone was low, a hint of apology threading through her words. "I'm sorry about earlier," she murmured, her eyes scanning our surroundings with practiced vigilance.

"But please, always be aware of where you are and who's around you. Diabolus sees everything."

I glanced around, suddenly conscious of every shadow and every face we passed. Nicolette continued, her voice still a soft whisper. "The Isle…it's a citadel of surveillance and secrecy. Everywhere you look, there are eyes and ears. Cameras are embedded in the most obvious and most trivial places, capturing every movement."

I felt a knot form in my stomach as she elaborated, and she wasn’t done.

"Custodes Tenebrarum blend in with the crowd. And the tourists..." she paused, her gaze meeting mine, "they're monitored even more closely. Special devices, like mobiles or digital trackers, are given to them. It's all under the guise of convenience, but in reality, it's to keep track of their every step, especially if they wander too close to places they shouldn't."



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