Requiem of the Soul (The Society Trilogy #1) - Natasha Knight Page 0,58

room, and I do not visit her. Instead, I ask Antonia for reports, a detail she finds rather curious. She provides me updates as I request, informing me of Ivy's eating and sleeping habits. She tells me that my wife has requested access to the pool, and I return my order to deny her.

I know she will have to come out soon. Certain things will be expected of her. She is to attend events with me. There will be meetings with other wives regarding their endeavors and contributions within The Society. They take turns planning events, luncheons, dinners, and ensuring the businesses run smoothly by keeping them adequately staffed. Ivy will be expected to participate at some level, although not as much as the others. She married a Sovereign Son, so many expectations are cast upon her. The way she dresses, speaks, and carries herself will all be scrutinized. But because she bears my mark, nobody will ever dare whisper their judgments in a space where she or I might hear them. It is her duty to sew herself into the fabric of our organization and truly become one of the upper echelon.

My wife will need rules. A schedule. Something to occupy her time until she is round with my child. I should be working on that now. Night and day, until I have made her mine in every sense of the word. But the longer she remains in the house, the more difficult it becomes to remember my control.

I don't know what I'm trying to prove by my absence. Is it for her benefit or mine?

I drown myself in my work, staring at the wall of monitors in my office, picking apart the data and scrutinizing it to death. Mercedes comes to me often, trying to wear me down with her questions.

Sleep doesn't come for me. Instead, I wander the halls of The Manor at night, pausing outside Ivy's door. More than once, I have stood there with my palm on the wood, considering our last conversation. I showed her my hand, and now she understands what I want.

Will she run the moment my back is turned? Will she stay and fight?

I truly don't know.

Tonight, finally, I give in and curve my fingers over the knob on her door. When I open it, I find her sitting in the chair by the fireplace, curled up into herself as she flips through the pages of a book. Upon hearing me enter, she glances up, her eyebrows pinching together when she sees me on the threshold. She’s pale, dark shadows cast beneath the fringe of her lower lashes. In place of her normally smooth hair, there is an unruliness that screams of her desperation. She is already unraveling in her captivity.

It feels as though it has been an eternity since our eyes last met. Does she feel it too?

She studies me, folding the book into her lap and waiting for me to announce my purpose.

"Starting tomorrow, you have my permission to access The Manor. Everywhere except the staff quarters, my office, and my bedroom."

She sits up slightly, the strap of her black nightgown falling down over the curve of her shoulder. "And what about the pool?"

"The pool is off-limits until your tattoo is healed. Two weeks at least."

She frowns at this but nods anyway.

"You'll need to get settled in here. Soon, we will be required to attend events together. Mercedes will be here to teach you what is expected of you. She will go over your schedule with you and show you around The Manor.”

Her eyes narrow. "And if I say no?"

"You know what happens if you say no." My fingers itch to reach out and grab her, and my cock is already hardening at the mere suggestion of her defiance.

She seems to consider my words carefully before shaking her head in frustration. "And what about school?"

"That part of your life is in the past. You're my wife now. You’ll spend your time doing something productive for The Society."

"Such as?"

"Such as bearing my children. Offering your assistance where it's required. And most importantly, pleasing me."

An expression of horror flashes across her face as she echoes those words. "Children?"

"Don't tell me you haven't even considered it," I mock her.

"But you said you wanted me dead."

Those words sound bitter repeated back to me. "Well, there is time for both."

She falls quiet, and I don't like it. I need her words, her thoughts.

"When can I see my sister?" she asks. "My father? When will