It is up to me to carry on our family's lineage now, and that is where Ivy will prove her worth. The mere thought of impregnating her both sickens and fascinates me. She is my enemy’s daughter, and therefore, she can only ever repulse me, just as I will certainly repulse her. It is not the ideal situation, but given the circumstances, if anyone must bear my sons, I should think it would be torturous for her to do so. And God as my witness, she will.

The only remaining question is how long will she survive under my rule? How long can she bear the punishments of her father’s sins before it becomes too much? And will she decide to put herself out of her misery, or will it be me?

Tomorrow, she will be mine to touch. Mine to take. Mine to do with as I please. She will know what it feels like to be well and truly owned. My brand on her skin. Her virgin blood on my cock. The first of a thousand tears she will shed drying on her cheeks by the time I’m through with her.

When I close my eyes, I can imagine it so vividly. But the vision wavers between rough and soft against my will. I have not been with a woman since before the explosion. Though many would do my bidding should I request it, I have not desired to expose them to the horrors of my scarred flesh. Ivy will have no choice but to subject herself to me, should I want her to. She will bear it every time she looks at me. I want her to feel what I feel inside. The Moreno blood running through her veins has destroyed me, and it should destroy her too.

Perhaps one day, I will let her see the landscape of terror her father left behind on my body. For now, I should use her only as a vessel. Her affection is not required to do what’s necessary. To open her body to mine and accept my cock until her belly is round and swollen with my child.

My fingers move over the ornate gothic mask on my desk. It is not difficult to imagine her kneeling before me, naked with my fresh mark etched into her skin. The mask blinding her vision as she sucks in a breath, waiting for me to draw near. What a beautiful, terrifying sight it will be.

The clock on the mantel ticks down the seconds, the hours dwindling away and sealing her fate. Tonight, at the stroke of midnight, Ivy Moreno will be my wife.

9

Ivy

I’m in my room sitting on my bed, and no matter how many blankets I wrap around my body, I can’t seem to get warm.