Under His Rule (His 1)

My fingers caress her hair and cheeks softly, and I wish I could keep her right here with me. But I need to win her trust first, so this needs to be the final time I touch her … for now.

I murmur into her ear, “I can’t wait for you to become mine.”

She’s breathing so softly that it’s almost as if she’s sleeping. But we both know that isn’t true.

When she wakes up, she’ll learn exactly what it means to be owned.

Chapter 2

Noah

“What do you intend to do with her?” Patriarch Patrick asks me while we oversee the transport of her limp body to the community.

“Let her go through the initiation process,” I reply, watching from my window.

“What? Why?” he asks.

I turn to look at him. “She’s a captured, isn’t she? All captured go through this process.”

“Yes, but … this one was chosen by you. For a reason, right?” He narrows his eyes.

He’s prying for information, but I’m not willing to dish any.

“She’s just someone who caught my eye, that’s all,” I say, waving it away as though it’s no big deal.

But it is. Even though I won’t say that out loud.

She’s the one. The one girl who’s going to change everything.

As long as she makes it through initiation, which I know will be rough on her.

“You normally never pick your own,” Patriarch Patrick adds.

“Well, this time, I did. Does it really matter who chooses, whether it’s a helper or an elder, or even a patriarch? What’s the point in being a patriarch if you can’t have a little fun?” I muse.

He nods, smiling wickedly. “True, true …” He clears his throat. “Maybe one of these days, I should pick one.”

Hmm … He may think that’s an option, but it’s not. Not for me.

“Plenty of willing women already live in the community who would drop at your feet at the chance of getting in your bed, Patrick,” I say.

He raises his glass. “Very much so.” He takes a sip and makes a loud ‘ah’ sound. “But still … I’d like to have some fun for myself too.”

I clutch my glass firmly and look him directly in the eyes. “No.”

He pauses and lowers his brows at me, questioning my authority in the matter.

But I have all the chess pieces in place, and there is no fucking way he is going to ruin this for me.

“This ‘fun’ for me is also an order.”

“From who?”

“The president himself,” I say.

He gulps, visibly shaken. “Oh.”

“Exactly. So don’t go do something against the rules.”

“But why would he let you and not me?” he asks.

I shrug. “You know why.”

He grinds his teeth. “Right.” He sighs, defeated. “It’s about time for prayers anyway. Are you coming?”

I gaze out the window at the girl being dragged toward the concrete hut right now. Even knowing what’s about to happen to her will break her, I’m not doing anything to stop it.

It’s as though I’m thrusting a dagger into my own heart.

That girl will be my undoing, I just know it.

But I’ve already made the choice, and now I must commit.

“Yes,” I reply. Getting up from my chair, I set my glass down and take my eyes off the window. The chess pieces are set in place, exactly as they should be.

Right on schedule … just in time for a real-life, literal checkmate.

Natalie

When I come to again, I feel dizzy and nauseous, and I instantly turn around to puke on the floor below me. I grunt in pain and curl up into a ball as my stomach feels like it did a somersault. My eyes crack open, but there’s no light in sight.

No.

The pure darkness surrounding me fuels the panic inside my veins.

Where am I?

Then I remember the man with the tattoo. His penetrating gaze … and the man who came to get me.

I immediately touch my face, but the bag is gone. My fingers slide across my skin, my lips, my eyes, my hair. Everything’s still intact. Except for my sanity.

My hands slide down farther, but they find no fabric, no clothes to cover my body. I’m naked. Completely naked.

Someone undressed me.

Who did this?

My whole body starts to shiver. Are they still here? “Hello?” I cry out.

My voice is hoarse, either from the drugs or from screaming out for help.

I don’t know how long I’ve been here … or how many times I tried calling out before.

All I know is that my way back to reality was long and hard, and that I might pass out again just from being in this darkness.

Am I alone? “Is anyone else in here?” I ask, but there’s no reply.

Why? Why did they put me here? Why did they pick me?

“Hello? Is anyone there?” I call out, hoping someone from the outside can hear me and will set me free from this dark prison. “Please. Let me out.”