Cover

About This Book

This Box Set contains Requiem of the Soul, Reparation of Sin and Resurrection of the Heart.

It is the complete story of Santiago De La Rosa and Ivy Moreno and the first books in the world of The Society.

Requiem of the Soul

A Sovereign Sons Novel

About This Book

I was born with noble blood in my veins.

Heir to a powerful dynasty.

Wealth. Power. Aristocracy.

Temptations too dangerous to resist.

Until someone tried to steal it all.

Scarred and broken, I emerged from the flames.

Now I’ve returned to take what’s mine.

Revenge.

The first item on my agenda?

Make Ivy Moreno my wife.

Second?

Bend her until she breaks.

Prologue

Ivy

The lace of my dress scratches my skin. I shiver. It’s cold, a wet cold as soft mist turns to rain. Rain on your wedding day is good luck, right? Isn’t that what they say?

Candles protected inside glass lanterns line the stairs leading up to the double front doors. I stare up at them, remembering the last time I stood here. It’s been a while.

The doors are opened. Organ music and incense pour out.

I close my eyes, listening to the sound, and take a deep breath. The scent and sound combined are dizzying.

No, it’s not those things that have me swaying on my feet. It’s what’s coming. What’s waiting for me at the end of the aisle.

My brother wraps his hand around my arm. He mutters a curse as he rights me.

I grip my bouquet of blood-red roses. If I’m not careful, I’ll crush them. They’re striking. Beautiful. Like my dress. He has impeccable taste, my fiancé, and he likes things a certain way. He has rules. And he’s used to getting exactly what he wants.

I’m slow as we ascend the stairs toward the entrance. It irritates my brother, I know, but everything irritates him. The toe of his shoe catches my long veil, tugging my head backward momentarily. A few steps more and we stand inside the vestibule, the organ louder, the incense stronger, combining with the smell of melting wax.

The doors close behind us, that final divide between what was and what will be. My past and my present. The voice inside my head urging me to run grows louder, but I don’t run. It’s no use.

Our guests rise to their feet, gazes blank as they turn back to look at me, their sacrificial bride. I don’t see their faces, though. They’re just shapes in my periphery. I only have eyes for one man. The stranger before the altar. The stranger in whose bed I’ll sleep tonight.

I feel numb. Like it’s not real. Like it’s not me.