Page 67 of Muerte

"How did they fare today?" he questioned with an authoritative tone.

"Exceptionally well, Diabolos," she replied, her voice laced with a deep respect.

My gaze caught on Selena, observing her as she watched him.

This went beyond reverence; it hinted at something deeper, more personal. When Alexander acknowledged her with a nod, her response was an almost hesitant whisper.

Their brief exchange piqued my curiosity. Now that I thought about it, Selena seemed like she would be a suitable match for him. I wasn’t sure if he had a type, but with her light blue eyes fringed by thick lashes, full, rose-painted lips and wavy, chestnut hair that reached the small of her back, she was undeniably pretty.

Our eyes met for a fleeting moment, revealing a glimpse of fear before she quickly averted her gaze. I couldn’t be reading into that right. She couldn’t possibly have been afraid of me. Alexander followed my line of sight, scrutinizing Selena with a neutral expression. He walked to where I was sitting and reached out, taking my hands in his, coaxing me to stand.

I rose slowly, acutely aware of every pair of eyes in the room now fixated on us. He loomed over me, his height and the broad expanse of his shoulders enveloping me in an intimate cocoon despite the audience.

“You’re almost prettier now than you were this morning.” He tilted my head back, his fingers deftly tracing the line of my jaw, his eyes holding mine in a silent conversation, a multitude of unspoken words.

I took a silent breath, intent on keeping my wits, and instantly wished I hadn’t. His potent cologne was a sensory reminder I didn’t need.

"I missed you, deliciae," he murmured, his voice a soft caress against the charged silence of the room. Why was everyone watching us? His hand shifted, encircling my throat in a gentle but firm hold. Then he leaned down, his lips finding mine in a kiss that was both tender and domineering.

A flurry of emotions fought inside me.

With all eyes on us, I knew better than to push him away. Taking initiative from Keres, I forced away my initial stiffness and reluctantly yielded as I returned the heated kiss, the acute awareness of our audience heightening the intensity of the moment.

His tongue stroked inside my mouth the same way it did when his face was between my legs. I suppressed a moan and focused on anything but the ache he’d effectively created. I knew this kiss was another declaration, a public affirmation of his possession and my place by his side, an act that left no room for doubt or denial.

A light chuckle broke the silence as the others moved away. The sound had me instinctively trying to withdraw. Alexander tightened his grip on my throat, keeping me cemented in place.

After he finally released me from the kiss, he gently rubbed his thumb over my lower lip.

His touch then drifted down, lightly brushing against my hip before he took my hand, interlacing our fingers and letting go of my throat. As he turned to address Seraphine again, I slowly noticed that the room had emptied, save for her, Selena, and us. A flush crept up my cheeks.

I remained silent as Seraphine promised to email a report summarizing the day's session. Her demeanor towards Alexander was a blend of deference and awe, a testament to his esteemed status.

"Thank you, Matron," Alexander responded, his tone carrying that same sense of authority that seemed to fill the room. As we prepared to leave, he acknowledged Selena with a brief, almost imperceptible nod.

Her response was a mix of respect and something else—a flicker of emotion quickly masked.

“What did you think?” he asked, slowing his pace on the stairs so I kept up without falling on my face.

“I’m still trying to figure that out.”

As we made our way back through the Chapel, I felt the weight of Alexander’s influence not just on me but on everyone within his orbit.

The ride back to the estate was quiet—the kind that weighed heavily in the air but wasn’t unnecessarily uncomfortable. I actually appreciated these fleeting moments of silence after days like this. It'd be nice if I had a day to decompress and think, sort through what I knew and what I didn’t.

Alexander was engrossed in his phone, his focus seemingly in another world. It made me wonder about my own phone, wherever it was now. A sardonic thought crossed my mind. Who would I call to help me even if I had it in hand? My mind raced through the futile options.

The police? That idea seemed absurd and hopeless. Even if I managed to contact them, Alexander would know. He always seemed to be a step ahead. I had no family. There were a few people I could call acquaintances, but that was a stretch, and my best friend was here somewhere. I’d already known I was on my own, but the reminder was still a glum one.

I gazed out the window at the passing scenery. A conflicting sense of appreciation and resentment stirred within me. The Isle, with its hauntingly beautiful landscapes, held an allure that I begrudgingly acknowledged.

The lush greenery, the mysterious shadows cast by the towering trees, the serene water—all of it was captivating. I despised the fact that I continued to find beauty in this place that I should detest.

Alexander kept one hand on my knee for the duration of the ride, absentmindedly tracing patterns on my skin.

By the time we reached the estate and he’d instructed me to wash up before we ate, darkness had come calling. I went through the motions, my mind a whirlpool of the day's revelations, the unsettling lessons, and, persistently, Anya. Where was she in all of this?

Dinner was another extravagant affair, but Nicolette and Esther were absent and whoever had set the table had done so before we’d entered the room. The subtle sounds of people moving around the house were impossible to miss. When Alexander took notice of my curiosity, he answered my unspoken question.

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