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)
Alexander set me down gently, his hands lingering on my waist as he looked at me with a possessiveness that made my pulse quicken. “Welcome to our sanctuary,” he revealed, his voice low and intimate, as if the entire night had led to this moment. "Come.”
I followed him up the winding staircase, slipping off my shoes as the smooth stone steps felt cool beneath my feet. My heart beat steadily, but there was a new tension in the air, something unspoken between us, something heavy.
The stairs twisted higher, and when we reached the top, I paused, my breath catching in my throat. The room was vast and luxurious, bathed in soft flickering light from candles and lanterns. A canopy bed stood at the center, its dark, velvet curtains pulled back, revealing an opulent expanse of pillows and silks. Beyond that, massive windows stretched from floor to ceiling, opening out to a view of the sea far below, the crashing waves echoing faintly against the rocks. We were so high up—it was dizzying. Just a few feet from the bed, a large, round jacuzzi tub sat, decorated with intricate designs that shimmered in the low light.
But what truly captured my attention wasn’t the elegance of the room. No, it was the figures standing around the bed—robed disciples, each holding lanterns, their faces obscured beneath their hoods. The flicker of the lantern light danced across their robes, casting strange shadows. At the edge of the bed was a woman.
My heart sank when I recognized her.
Clarice.
Her body was spread in an X shape, arms and legs bound tightly between two of the thick canopy posts, which had runes etched into the wood. There was something else—something wrapped just barely around her neck. Barbed wire, or something worse, biting into her skin, though it didn’t seem to pierce her fully. Her mouth was covered, muffling any sound she might have made.
Her eyes met mine, wide and pleading.
“What is this?” I asked Alexander, my voice calm, betraying none of the confusion that swirled inside me. I wasn’t afraid. Strangely, I wasn’t even upset. My curiosity gnawed at me more than anything.
Alexander stepped closer, his presence enveloping me as he spoke. “This,” he began, his voice low and reverent, “is Ultima Consecratio—the final blessing. It’s the Isle’s way, a sacred tradition. There are no divorces here, you know that. And this...this is Clarice’s role in our union. A final offering.”
My eyes flicked back to Clarice, her body trembling slightly as she struggled against her bonds. The disciples stood silently, their lanterns casting eerie light across the room. The runes carved into the posts glowed faintly, pulsating in time with my heartbeat.
"It’s punishment," he added softly, tenderly. "She blesses our union, ensuring that nothing of the past remains, only the future—our future."
I felt the weight of his words. Clarice’s presence here, bound and helpless, wasn’t just a punishment. It was a message. A reminder of the Isle's unbreakable rules, of the darkness that bound us all together.
I swallowed hard, my eyes flickering between Clarice and Alexander. "What do we do?" I asked, my voice surprisingly steady despite the chill crawling up my spine. I could feel the weight of what was about to happen, but still, I wasn’t afraid.
He grinned, that dark, knowing smile that had become both familiar and terrifying. "Something we’re quite good at," he replied smoothly, stepping forward to scoop me into his arms.
I couldn’t help the small intake of breath as he lifted me, carrying me effortlessly toward the bed, Clarice’s bound form just behind us. The room was draped in an eerie quiet, broken only by the soft crackle of candle flames and the faint rustling of robes from the surrounding disciples. My heartbeat quickened, but not in fear—rather in anticipation of what came next.
My breath hitched as I lay there, still catching sight of Clarice from the corner of my eye. Her bound form at the edge of the bed, half-obscured by the sheer canopy curtains, was a constant, ominous presence. I could hear the soft shuffle of the robed disciples in the background, but it was faint and insignificant compared to the weight of Alexander’s gaze on me.
"Are they going to watch?" I asked quietly.
"To an extent," Alexander replied smoothly, his tone soothing yet charged with something darker. He brushed his knuckles against my cheek. "All you need to do is focus on us."
I swallowed hard and nodded, the gravity of the situation pressing down on me. The canopy curtains were sheer, offering just enough concealment for the disciples to remain shadowy figures. Only the end of the bed, where Clarice’s body was stretched and exposed, remained open, her presence an eerie backdrop to this moment. Her muffled breaths filled the space as she struggled to stay calm, while my attention remained riveted on Alexander. He was undressing me with such care, his touch lingering on my skin as he removed every last piece of fabric.