Cover

His Rule

The Rite Trilogy Book 1

About This Book

I live in a world where secrecy reigns.

A Society rooted in power, wealth, and long-held dynasties.

Where men are Kings, and women are pawns.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve dreamt of escaping the shackles of my expectations.

But it can only ever be a dream.

I made a fatal mistake, and those shackles became a cage.

Now I’m trapped in a war with a man who controls my every move.

He’s my brother’s best friend.

My enemy, my tormentor, and my solace.

His words have the power to wound me.

His touch just might break me.

But this is his kingdom, and as long as I’m here I only have one choice.

I’ll play by his rules. 

The Rite Trilogy is set in the world of The Society. It is the story of Mercedes De La Rosa and Judge Montgomery and the trilogy can be read as a standalone series.

If you’re new to The Society and would like to read the first series of books in the world, you can start with The Society Trilogy. You can find more details and store links by clicking here.

1

Mercedes

Blood.

Every time I close my eyes, I see it. That pungent metallic odor still burns my nostrils, and it’s seeped so deep into my flesh, I can’t wash it away. I know because I’ve been trying for well over thirty minutes. My skin burns as the spray from the shower pelts the areas I’ve rubbed raw, but I can’t feel sorry for myself. This is the least of what I deserve.

My eyes are swollen, and it hurts to shed more tears, but I let them fall because this is the only time I have. I can’t allow the world to see me vulnerable. Santiago can’t witness me crumbling any more than he already has. The De La Rosa blood runs through my veins, and we are not weak. So I try again to burn the image of the lifeless corpse from my mind. I blink through my tears, hoping to wash away the memory of her battered and bloodied face.

It doesn’t work.

She’s everywhere. The entire car ride here, she haunted me. As Santiago’s tires crunched over the gravel, all I could hear were the shards of broken glass beneath my blood-streaked heels. Every muscle in my body aches even though I made it out with little more than a gash on my cheek and some bruises that will inevitably fade. Time has a way of dealing with wounds, at least physically. But there is no cure for a broken spirit.