Semper: A Dark Cult Romance (Stygian Isles Book 2), page 25
His lips pressed against mine with a hunger that sent a shockwave of heat through me as if he had been holding back for too long and couldn’t wait for another second. The force of it left me breathless, and I found myself melting into him, my hands instinctively reaching for his chest, clutching at the fabric of his shirt as I tried to steady myself.
Every part of me responded to him, as though my body had been waiting for this, waiting for him to pull me under, to take me to a place I didn’t fully understand but couldn’t resist. His tongue teased the seam of my lips, and I opened for him, letting him deepen the kiss until it became something more.
His hand slipped to the back of my neck, pulling me closer as his kiss grew even more fervent. I couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on anything but the way his mouth moved against mine, the way he was so thoroughly taking control of me, making it impossible for me to resist.
I didn’t want to.
Alexander pulled away from the kiss slowly, and the intensity between us simmered, a quiet tension settling into the air. The connection we’d just shared left me breathless, but I could sense something shifting in him, something darker, more deliberate.
His eyes grew serious as he looked out toward the lake, his jaw tightening.
“Anya,” he said, the word sharp and cutting through the soft lull of the evening like a blade.
My heart sank at the sound of her name. The bubble we had been in—the closeness, the calm—it all shattered in an instant.
“I promised I’d lay the topic to rest,” he continued, his tone firm, though there was a softness there as well, as if he knew this was something I wasn’t prepared for. He pulled his phone from his pocket, tapping the screen a few times before sliding it across the table toward me. I stared at it, my lips pressing together tightly as I realized what was on the screen—an audio file.
“Hit play,” he said softly, his gaze unwavering.
With trembling hands, I pressed the button, bracing myself for what I was about to hear.
The sound of Anya’s voice filled the air, and it hit me like a punch to the chest. I hadn’t heard her voice in so long, and now it was like she was right here, standing between us, unraveling everything.
"Will you let me out of this cell if I beg? Or should I promise to be good?" Her voice was laced with defiance, but underneath it, I could hear her desperation, an edge of fear she couldn’t hide.
Alexander’s voice followed, cold and unrelenting. “When has begging ever gotten you anywhere with me? It’s not going to work, Anya. You don’t have anything left to offer.”
There was a pause before Anya’s voice came back, shaky but full of determination. “You took Lolita. You could have me instead. Your cousin didn’t have a problem with me. I remember him, you know?”
The words felt like a sharp slap, my heart twisting painfully in my chest.
I stared at the phone as the realization settled in. Anya... with his cousin? Did she mean Bishop? When had that happened? It had to be before we came to the Isle. She never told me, hadn’t mentioned anything. My mind reeled, my emotions crashing into one another—shock, betrayal, anger.
I didn’t even notice that my hands were shaking.
Alexander’s voice came again, unphased by her revelation. “You think that matters to me? I feel nothing but sorrow for his troubles. You don’t even know how far gone you are, do you? You’re nothing, Anya. You were never more than a pawn, a distraction. Lolita is mine, and you can’t do anything to change that.”
Anya’s voice cracked, her desperation creeping in. “You’re making a mistake. Lolita isn’t built for this life. She’ll break, and when she does, you’ll regret choosing her over me. I could have thrived here.”
There was a pause, and then Alexander’s response was final, lethal. “Lolita won’t break. She’s stronger than you’ll ever understand. This was always her world. Here she is a queen. You could never compete where you can’t even begin to compare.”
The recording ended abruptly, and the silence that followed was suffocating. I stared down at the phone, tears welling in my eyes, my throat tight as I tried to make sense of everything I had just heard. Anya had slept with his cousin? She had tried to convince him to replace me with her, that I wasn’t strong enough for this life.
The betrayal hit me hard, a sharp pain stabbing through my chest. My best friend, my family, someone I trusted more than anyone had been desperate enough to throw herself at him even if it meant harming me.
I couldn’t process it all, couldn’t reconcile the Anya I knew with the one in the recording. Maybe it all came from a place of desperation.
I couldn’t relate because I would never in a million years choose her to be my scapegoat, but she could be somewhere terrible enough to make that her only option. That made me realize something else. I couldn’t do anything for her. She was trapped, and I was here, sitting across from the man who had taken everything from her. The helplessness I felt was overwhelming, and the tears that had been building finally spilled over, trailing down my cheeks. Alexander moved swiftly, rising from his chair, and rounding the table to pull me into his arms. His grip was strong, and reassuring, as he cupped the back of my head, pressing me against his chest.
I could feel the steady beat of his heart as he held me close, anchoring me to the present. “It’s over, sweet girl,” he stated, his voice low and soothing. “She’s not a part of your life anymore. She’s nothing to you. You are mine, and I’m not letting anything, or anyone take that from us.”
I wanted to push him away, to scream at him for what he had done, but I couldn’t. I leaned into him, seeking comfort in his presence, in the warmth of his touch. He held me tighter, his lips brushing against my hair.
“I know this hurts, but she made her choices. But I’m here, with you.”
His words washed over me, and despite the tears, despite the betrayal, there was a part of me that clung to him, that needed him in this moment. I hated that I felt this way, hated that I needed his reassurance, but I couldn’t stop it.
“I won’t let you break,” he murmured, his hands stroking my hair gently. “You belong with me. Always.”
He drew back slightly, but I couldn’t let him go. My hands clung tighter around his waist, my voice trembling as the fear and confusion I felt spilled out in shaky words.
“What will happen to her now?” I pleaded, my voice cracking. “I know—I know she isn’t like the women here, but please don’t—don’t…”
He silenced me softly, his thumb brushing over my lips in a soothing, commanding gesture. “Hush, deliciae.” His tone was calm, but there was a firm edge underneath it. “Even now, you want to save a woman who didn’t hesitate to tear you down. That kind heart of yours... it’s beautiful, but don’t waste it on someone like her.”
The words stung with truth, and though a part of me wanted to fight him, the rest of me knew he was right. His lips grazed my cheek, and I felt his tongue sweep across my skin, licking away the tears that had fallen. The intimacy of the gesture, so possessive and raw, sent a wave of electricity through me, making my breath catch. He leaned closer, his lips just inches from mine, his voice wrapping around me like velvet.
“How about this, you let her go. Put all of this behind you. Stay by my side—willingly—and I’ll make sure the waste of space finds a place. She won’t be anywhere near us--you, but she’ll live.”
I froze, my chest tightening as the weight of his offer settled over me. His voice was soft, but the choice he presented felt impossibly heavy. My mind was spinning. I still felt the ache for Anya, for the person she had been before everything fell apart. I could never, ever forget the girl who was by my side through everything. It didn’t matter if she wanted to sacrifice me to save herself, I could do the same, but to save both of us. Deep down, I knew there was nothing else other than this that would accomplish that. Her fate had been sealed long before this conversation. Tears welled up in my eyes again.
“You promise?” I asked, my voice trembling. “Can you promise you won’t hurt her? That she’ll live?”
He held my gaze, his expression dark and unwavering.
His thumbs brushed lightly over my cheeks, wiping away another trail of tears. “I give you my word,” he said slowly, his voice steady and commanding. “As Diabolus, as your man. She’ll live. You have my word on that.”
I searched his eyes, my heart pounding in my chest. I believed him—needed to believe him. His word, especially given as Diabolus, felt like a bond, something unbreakable. I let out a shaky breath, nodding, even though my heart was still cracking apart. “Okay,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I’ll stay. But only if you promise—no harm comes to her.”
His lips curved into a small, dark smile, satisfied with my response. “I promise,” he said again, and then leaned in, pressing his lips to mine in a soft, lingering kiss. His hands slid to the back of my neck, pulling me closer, his warmth seeping into me.
As he held me, I knew I had made a choice I couldn’t undo, not without driving the final nail into Anya’s coffin.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
We left the restaurant not long after the conversation that still clung to the edges of my mind. The car was silent, save for the hum of the engine and the occasional rush of wind outside. My head leaned back against the seat, my eyes tracing the darkened scenery of the Isle as it passed by, the shadows of trees and the distant gleam of the moon on the lake. My hand was resting in Alexander’s, his thumb absentmindedly brushing over my knuckles as he drove with his other hand.
It took a while for me to realize that the path we were on wasn’t heading back to the estate.
The familiar curves and winding roads were missing, replaced by unfamiliar streets that led along the coastline. It was hard to tell in the dark, but my instincts told me something was different.
“Where are we going?” I asked, turning my head slightly toward him, my curiosity piqued.
His eyes flicked toward me briefly, a mischievous smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “For dessert,” he said, his voice casual, “and a surprise.”
The thought of something more after the conversation about Anya was unsettling. But I didn’t push him. I kept my eyes on the road, watching the moonlight dance across the water beside us. The night felt darker, the air around us more secretive, as though the Isle itself was shrouded in mystery. After a while, we reached two sprawling estates, each one mirroring the other in size and grandeur, standing like sentinels along the coast.
Their presence alone was intimidating, a testament to the wealth and power that came with being part of the Impío faith. Even in the dark, they loomed above us, steeped in an old, almost ancestral importance. We turned into the driveway of the slightly larger estate, parking behind another flashy car that was already there. The house towered over us; its sharp architecture softened only by the subtle lighting coming from inside.
It reminded me of our own home, secluded and wrapped in luxury, but there was something different here, more personal. I knew instinctively that this place held history for Alexander. The air was heavy with it. He cut the engine and stepped out, coming around to my side and opening my door, as always. I blinked, taking in the massive house, feeling the cool night air rush over my skin as I stepped out.
The smell of the lake was stronger here, mingling with the earthy scent of the trees that surrounded us.
“Where are we?” I asked again, my voice quieter this time, uncertain.
He smirked down at me, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “My parents’,” he said with a knowing smile, clearly anticipating my reaction.
I froze, my breath catching in my throat. His parents? My mind raced. I had already met his father—the man gave new meaning to the word intense. He had a presence that filled the room, a cold, calculating authority that left no room for doubt. His mother, however, was like a ghost. Always mentioned and never seen. A figure I had imagined but hadn’t met, a woman whose influence was undeniable, yet whose face had remained hidden from me.
I stared at him. “Your parents?”
His smirk deepened, enjoying my surprise. “Yes, deliciae. My parents.”
I had never really thought about what meeting them would be like. His father’s intensity had been daunting enough, but the thought of meeting the woman who had shaped Alexander into the man he was now...
My mind raced with questions—what was she like? Did she know everything? Would she approve of me? Alexander sensed my rising anxiety because he stepped closer, his hand brushing gently down my arm before resting at the small of my back. The warmth of his touch steadied me, grounding me in the moment.
“Relax,” he murmured, his voice low and reassuring. “I was meant to bring you here weeks ago for brunch. They’ve been waiting to meet you.”
The idea that they had been waiting for me didn’t help.
He kissed my temple lightly, his lips warm against the cool night air. “Come on, you’ll be fine.”
I swallowed hard, trying to steady my nerves as we began walking toward the grand entrance The massive double doors swung open before we could even reach them, revealing a figure I recognized instantly—Bishop. He greeted us with a wide, charming smile that threw me off guard, as if we’d known each other for years, despite our few brief encounters. He held up a large glass, clearly already a few drinks deep.
"Finally!" Bishop exclaimed, his grin growing wider. "I'm on my third glass already."
I blinked, momentarily surprised by how at ease he seemed. He had always behaved as though we were old friends whenever we crossed paths. The charm and the raw magnetism he carried was undeniable—dark chestnut-hued hair styled as though he'd just run his hands through it, and those deep hazel eyes, glinting with a playful mischief that could be dangerous if you didn’t know better.
From behind him came Esther’s voice, breaking the moment. “No one told you to start getting tipsy,” she said, shoving him aside with a playful push, making him laugh. The sound was deep and contagious. He stepped back easily, giving her the floor.
"Lo," Esther greeted me warmly, her happiness at seeing me radiating off her.
Alexander raised an eyebrow, looking mock offended. “Do I not exist?”
Esther grinned up at him, giving him a one-sided hug. “Alex,” she said in a teasing tone, clearly in a good mood. He pulled her in for a proper hug as we stepped inside the grand foyer of the estate, the atmosphere immediately warmer than I had expected.
As we walked in, I took a second to glance at Bishop. There was something about his easygoing demeanor, the lopsided smile that always seemed to linger on his lips, which made him approachable—even in this intimidating setting.
His sharp cheekbones and squared jaw gave him a striking, almost dangerous look, but the sparkle in his eyes and that ever-present stubble softened the effect, giving him a roguish, playful air. We stepped further inside, and the grandeur of the home unfolded before me. Dark, rich wood adorned the walls, with intricate carvings that added to the overall opulence. It was a space filled with history and power, but there was a warmth there too, something familial that made me feel like I was stepping into more than just a house—it was their sanctuary.
As Alexander and Esther continued talking, I couldn’t help but observe how easily they fit together, how their interactions flowed with a natural, effortless grace. The bond between them was undeniable, a deep-rooted connection that hinted at years of shared experiences and trust. It left me feeling as if I were slowly being woven into something beyond my understanding.
Bishop caught my eye again, his lopsided grin still firmly in place, like he was already in on some private joke. “You ready for the madness?” he teased, raising his glass in my direction.
I wasn’t sure if he was referring to the evening ahead or something more sinister. The glint in his eyes told me it didn’t matter—whatever it was, I was already in it. The game, whatever it was, had already begun, and I was just starting to understand the rules. Before I could respond, Emilio appeared from around a corner, his smile just as friendly and disarming as always.
Without warning, he pulled me into a hug, catching me completely off guard. I stood there stiff as a board, unsure how to respond. His laugh echoed through the room. “The Devil, Alex,” he teased, “did you tell her she couldn’t even hug her family?”
Alexander chuckled, pulling me back to his side, his arm wrapping possessively around my waist.
“I didn’t tell her anything of the sort. She’s just a good girl,” he said, his voice low, filled with that familiar, dangerous edge.
My face flamed, the heat rising up my neck and into my cheeks. I could feel every pair of eyes in the room on me. Bishop grinned wider, clearly enjoying my embarrassment. “Good girl, huh? Well, she’s learning fast. Or maybe it’s just Alex’s training that’s working,” he joked, his tone dripping with innuendo.
Esther rolled her eyes, reaching out to lightly slap Bishop’s chest. “Don’t make it worse,” she said with a playful smile, though even she couldn’t hold back her amusement.
Despite my flushed cheeks, there was something strangely comforting about their banter, the way they all teased and laughed together. It felt almost normal.
I had never seen any of them this at ease, behaving like actual people and not the satanic royalty they usually projected. There was a softness to them in this moment, an ease that didn’t match the darkness I’d come to associate with their world. It was jarring, in a way—seeing Alexander, Bishop, and Emilio laugh and joke like they were just a group of friends or family. Not powerful men who ruled over something twisted and secret. As the laughter continued to ripple between them, a feminine, bell-like voice suddenly called out, cutting through the conversation.
