Page 3 of Semper

He paused, his hand lingering against my skin. His eyes darkened, a slow smile spreading across his face as if my question amused him. He pulled away just enough to study me, the weight of his attention making my heart pound.

“You’re so innocent,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction, as though he reveled in the very idea. His grip tightened slightly, just enough to remind me of his dominance. "The fact that I was your first... you have no idea how much I love that."

A mixture of revulsion and arousal churned in my stomach, the heat of his words twisting my insides. He moved closer again, his lips hovering over mine, teasing but not yet touching. “I marked you, Lolita. No one else will ever have what I took from you. No one will ever get close.”

My breath hitched at his words, and he smirked, reading me too easily. “I love that I was your first. I love that you were untouched before me. Because now, everything that happens toyou, every kiss, every ache, every pleasure... it's mine. You’ll never forget it, and I’ll never let you.”

He let the silence hang between us, his presence overpowering, suffocating.

I tried to find words, but nothing came. He leaned in again, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered, “Does that scare you?” I swallowed hard. “It should," he added the dark promise.

His lips pressed firmly to my forehead before he released me with a devilish smirk. "Unfortunately, I have a meeting this morning," he sighed, his eyes still fixed on me possessively. "Otherwise, I would already have you bent over and begging." His eyes swept over me again. "I'll be waiting for you downstairs," he said with a more refined grin. "Come down when you're ready." With one last touch of my cheek, he turned and walked away.

I stood there, staring at the door long after he'd left.

CHAPTER TWO

I flung my damp towel into an ornate hamper, memories flooding back of one of my last conversations with Anya on the day we were taken. We laughed and joked that the guests had no idea what they actually were. It seemed like a distant memory now, as if it belonged to another life. All I wanted was to see her again, to talk to her and make sure she was safe.

Alexander would never allow it --I knew that. Still, I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that I needed to find a way to reach out to her. If I did nothing, the guilt would consume me forever.

I inhaled deeply, feeling the sting of tears behind my eyes. With a few quick blinks, I willed them away. As the saying goes, "laugh now, cry later." But for me, it was more like "survive now, feel later." I reached out and grabbed a matching bra to go with my cotton underwear, and then made my way towards the spiral staircase that led to the upper level. The cool metal railing felt reassuring as I ascended. I emerged onto the top floor and paused, taking in the overwhelming sight before me.

Rows upon rows of clothing, everything sorted by color and organized, stretched out in front of me, all garments thatperfectly reflected the unique aesthetic of the Isle. Not wanting to dwell on my troubled thoughts, I navigated through the bustling racks and shelves, searching for something that would bring me comfort. My eyes landed on a dress in a section I had chosen at random.

The fabric was a delicate shade of muted blue, its lightweight texture practically begging for a gentle caress.

The simple yet elegant design boasted a fitted bodice while the skirt flowed effortlessly from the waist in billowy waves. It seemed like the perfect choice, one that would hug my body without suffocating it. Once I was dressed, my hair was hastily done followed by a quick affair of brushing my teeth.

The brand on my thigh had me lingering in front of the mirror. I hadn’t paid much attention to the pentagram of his family crest on my back, but I found it harder to ignore the actual name carved into my flesh. It felt like a chain, invisible yet sentient, linking me to Alexander directly. I wasn’t just his possession. I was his obsession, his mark branded on my skin as if I’d always belonged to him.I closed my eyes, drawing in another deep breath to gather my scattered thoughts and strength.

I would need both to face another day on the Isle. As I emerged from the bathroom, my eyes were immediately drawn to the vibrant bouquet of flowers that now adorned the bedroom. Their sweet fragrance filled the air and momentarily arrested me in my tracks. They were the same flowers as before, but the fact that Alexander had taken the time to replace them spoke volumes about his thoughtfulness and diligence. It was a reminder of all the trivial things he did for me, even when I was struggling to come to terms with our relationship.

Leaving the fragrant flowers behind, I made my way out of the opulent bedroom. The grand hallway stretched endlessly before me, leading towards the large staircase. Each step Itook felt weighted, a physical manifestation of the gravity of my circumstances. As I descended the stairs, the sheer scale of Alexander's estate enveloped me.

I paused for a moment, captivated by the tranquil lake visible through the large windows. The water's surface glistened under the sunlight, its stillness a direct contrast to the turmoil within me. The serenity of the lake felt deceptive, masking the sinister reality of Stygian Isle and the twisted lives it harbored. I tore my gaze away from the peaceful scene outside and continued my descent.

When I reached the bottom of the staircase, Alexander's attention shifted instantly from his phone to my person. He slipped it into his pocket and closed the distance between us with a few strides. Leaning down, he placed a tender kiss on my lips. "Just as I said, you look beautiful in anything," he murmured, taking my hand in his. His grip was strong and reassuring as he led me deeper into the foyer, the soaring ceilings and opulent decor almost overwhelming in their extravagance.

The shift from intimacy to the formality of meeting the staff was abrupt.

A small line of people stood awaiting us. Their heads dipped in unison upon our arrival, a gesture that seemed almost reverential. I noticed a woman guard among them, her stance confident and alert. Alexander immediately began the introductions, and I felt ridiculously out of place, like an actor in a role I hadn't rehearsed.

I did my best to remember names and roles for the sheer fact their obedience and respect were so apparent and focused. "Benedicte," Alexander gestured towards a seasoned-looking man with a stern expression, "our culinary maestro, skilled in all the traditional Impío dishes." Benedicte nodded respectfully, his gaze sharp and experienced. "And this lovely woman is ChefElodie. She brings a modern flair to our cuisine." he continued, indicating an older woman with an innovative spark in her grey eyes.

"Over there is Horticulturist Caius," Alexander pointed to a man whose hands bore the telltale signs of a life spent tending the earth. "He knows every inch of our gardens and grounds.” He then introduced the guards who patrolled the perimeter during the day. "Guardian Lucius and Guardian Drusilla.” He indicated a tall, imposing man and a quieter, observant woman with long blonde hair.

"They will ensure your safety with unwavering dedication. And there, our servitors, Tasia, Verity, and Henrietta," he continued, nodding towards three women who varied in demeanor from quiet efficiency to ghost-like, one of whom was wearing a black partial veil. "And lastly, Steward Ambrose," Alexander concluded, gesturing towards an older gentleman with graying hair, his presence exuding a calming wisdom. "He's been with me for years. Occasionally he also serves as my driver, but I’ve substituted him with Isaac so he can assist in you getting settled in here at home."

There was that word again.

Home.

The realization that these people were now part of my daily life was both overwhelming and strangely grounding. Alexander's hand found mine again, giving it a reassuring squeeze as if to silently remind me of my place beside him. Each introduction had been met with a brief lifting of bowed heads, their eyes meeting mine with a mix of curiosity and something akin to awe.

As I tried to avoid fixating on the servitor with the black veil covering her face, Alexander called for Ambrose and the man stepped out of the line-up. He was dressed in a tailored uniform, exuding an air of dignified grace.

It was dark, midnight blue. Crisp and well-fitted, enhancing his tall, lean figure. The silver hair at his temples added a distinguished touch to his appearance. His eyes, a warm brown, crinkled at the corners as he offered me a smile that felt genuine and kind.

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