Chapter 23
When my cognizance returns, I’m more alert this time. Very alert. I consider playing it off like I’m still asleep, listening to my surroundings to understand my predicament.
Nothing. Silence .
Summoning the courage to face the unknown, I cautiously open my eyes, surprised to realize I’m lying on a bed.
A bed ?
Did I misremember my last encounter? Soren had taken me, right? My eyebrows knit with confusion, my elbows shooting outward in expectation for them to be met with the resistance of rope. I’m shocked when they move with freedom. Even my legs seem completely unrestrained.
I instinctively check for a window to understand the time—black curtains are tightly drawn, streaks of white light visible at the edges. It’s well beyond morning.
For a few, long seconds I try to somehow reason that perhaps the ship is still anchored in the harbor. But I know it’s not, and that skinny, bright streak of sun burns through me as if I’m staring into a mirror that only reflects my ruins; I can’t believe this is my life.
I actually failed.
Survival demands that I accept the ship has sailed, as the longer I rely on hope as my savior, the more I waste precious time to try and escape the clutches of this man again .
Slowly moving my head, I languidly look around the place. Urgency is no longer scratching at my heart as if I know escaping won’t matter. Besides, I don’t even know where I’m at. The chambers have a simplicity that I wouldn’t expect from Soren, only a few candles casting long shadows across unadorned walls.
As much as I’m eager to get to my feet, I lie there. I’m so tired of this. Not just with the shit related to Soren, but for hiding over the last decade—
The door to the room opens with a dramatic creaking of the hinges, my head craning to see Soren standing in the doorframe. I move to my feet, only slightly unsteady from the lingering effects of whatever he gave me. I pad at my bloodied, aching legs, searching for any of my things, but all I feel are layers of ripped clothes.
The bag of coins is also missing. While I did steal it from Soren, my origins in Skull’s Row tell me I have every right to consider it mine now. The rubies mostly definitely are. “ Where are my earrings?”
“That should have had you out for longer.”
A bitter laugh escapes me as I lower my gaze to find where he sliced my skin, my futile resistance blurring the lines of indifference. “Feels exactly like urchin’s kiss. Dad used to give it to me to lessen the effects, since it’s so common,” I say, leaning over to heal and numb the pain. “Now, where are my earrings?”
He stands there, dressed only in a black tunic and leather pants, all of his effects missing. Icy eyes are impossible to read. "All of that effort to free yourself and subdue me, and all you care about are your earrings from Cypress? Ones bought with my money?”
“How did you know where I went?” I ask, wondering if I had ever escaped him at all.
He moves purposely into the room, the heavy door closing behind him with an ominous thud . Dimly lit, his penetrating eyes pierce through, ensnaring me like a web I’ve worked so hard to escape but is impossible to untangle. “My ability to sense my environment manifests differently, much like how you can knock a man out with your magic rather than just heal. I’m more adept than others like me, which is why I have the Zenith tattoo. I will always know where you go, Jane.
“Now, we need to chat, because we aren’t leaving this room until we have both come to an understanding, because I won’t be so kind the next time I have to hunt you down.”
My heart races so fast I nearly choke on my own spit when I swallow, still trying to heal what I can, in case I need to run.
Stop. Talk to him, first. You’re not bound, so maybe he doesn’t plan on beating you senseless. I attempt an appeal at any humanity he may possess while moving my hand to heal my knee. “I want the earrings because I don’t have anything of my mother’s, all right? I wanted the rubies she liked to buy, and Dad got them from Cypress herself, and she was on the way. Please tell me they’re still here.”
Soren remains silent, his inscrutable indifference as annoying as Cypress’s. “Why did you go to her? It’s not just about the earrings, Jane. I can tell.”
Don’t lie. You’re not hiding anything when this exhausted and he can feel it . “My dad visited her often. I thought she could help.”
When I stand, I watch as a depth flashes across his face as if those words mean something. “He trusted her?”
“Does that even matter?”
He looks me over. “You’re not the only one deciphering this situation, Zenith princess.”
I scoff. “What does that mean?”
"It means I’m trying to understand what to do with you… You hit one of my men—Anya—and stole my money. Let alone knocking me out. Tell me... what do you think I should do with you?" His tone is clipped just enough to hint at potentially sinister things as if this room is about to become my torture chamber.
" You tell me why you aren't bashing my skull in,” I reply, my body stiffening when my back hits a wall.
"Your little witch said some interesting things. It has me rather curious.” He sucks his bottom lip to his teeth, his nostrils flaring. His gaze devours my face in a familiar tactic to decipher every crevice of my soul.
My mind halts in confusion when I replay his words. More gently than I meant to, I ask, “What did she say?”
Another step closer, the space between us thinning. “Ah, ah. I don’t think you’re the one to be asking questions, Jane.”
“You could have met her years ago, then realized I liked her just now, and decided to tell me a bunch of lies.”
The surrounding darkness adds an eerie depth to his grin as he takes another step, slowly placing a hand on the wall to entrap me even more as if every inch of space between us matters. “I worried the same thing, that perhaps she was telling me half-truths or outright lies. But if her words have any weight… I’ve been thinking them over since I left her. Which means we have to have a conversation about your proclivity to flee.”
My heart and mind are pulled in a dozen directions, torn between accepting the reality of my re-capture and the surprising change of his tone. My gaze inadvertently lowers, fixating on his low-cut black tunic that reveals the top design of the skull tattoo visible on his chest. There’s a faint scar, pale against his skin, just above the gold ink that flickers as if made of liquid metal.
The connection of our fates is murky at best, my obligations no longer clear to me. Melona warned me with a vision I couldn’t ignore, and yet Cypress seemed strangely unconcerned when I begged for help. Soren might be silent while I filter through everything that overwhelms me, but I know he’s absorbing everything I consider. What’s the point in fighting it anymore? He's able to hunt me in ways that make any effort useless. He’s my survival line, whether I like it or not because he’s also my anchor. I confess, "The siren that taught me the sunder told me the Council can never have me.”
When I look up through my lashes, his eyes burn with insight. " That's why you're so panicked?"
"Well, other than the obvious . I’m fond of living at the moment, so that’s a big factor,” I sarcastically reply. “Plus, you know how it goes. A siren gives you a prophecy and you have to heed their words, or else get sucked under if you go near the coasts again. Returning to Skull’s Row means I break her prophecy, so I’m currently trying to avoid that fate.”
“What else did she say?” He gentles his words again. "Tell me the truth. I can't help with half-truths."
I'm at the point where I have to gamble now. Silence isn’t going to yield any respite from death. The nagging suspicion that this is all an elaborate ruse to get me to speak pecks harder at my brain, but I also can’t give up and do nothing . “Fine. She told me that the prophecy would relinquish when a debt is paid, but didn’t tell me what that debt was. So all I had to go by, for years, was that I can’t go back to Skull’s Row. If I do, it’ll start a catalyst of death for many innocents. Let alone the horrible fate for myself if I break it in general,” I begin, trailing off as I stare at the ink on his chest once more.
He articulates very slowly, his rough voice leaving no room for dissent. "Keep. Talking."
I draw in a shaky breath as I add, “There’s honestly not much more to say. I promised her I wouldn’t go back, and in turn, she taught me the sunder, mentioning that once the debt is paid, my life will be free. But again, she didn’t tell me what that debt was, saying something about how I couldn’t know or else I’d seek it prematurely—” I pause, but before deciding to keep going. “We bound it in a blood oath, and then she drowned me so she could revive me, my soul branded with this promise.”
By the craggy gods that must exist, does it feel good to finally confess this to someone. Even the part about being drowned, something I haven’t told anyone .
I’ll never forget my lungs filling with frigid salt water… even if I wish I could. Turns out, I do not like drowning.
A low grumble emanates from his chest as if he’s considering those words like they mean something. “And your witch? What did she say when you visited her?”
I huff, moving my head with my words as I dramatically reply, “She just said what I wanted to hear and then offered me those earrings.”
“There’s more, Jane.”
“ Fine . She told me that I already paid my debt to my siren… but I simply don’t believe her. That’s ridiculous.”
“That’s because you don’t believe anyone .”
My fists clench, ready to hit him right in that tattoo. “It doesn’t matter—going back sounds like a rather terrible idea overall, so, I regret nothing.”
“You do understand I am taking you to Skull’s Row? Not only does it feel like something I must do, but hiding you wouldn’t do any good. They’ll eventually send more than just me.”
This simply won’t do. I need reassurance that they won’t get to do with me as they please. I look into his eyes. “Okay, let’s say I did pay my debt and I can just suddenly go about my day like the prophecy never existed. If the Council tries to stick me in the spiraling tower to freeze, or place me deep in their dungeons to be lost forever, you have to promise to stab me first.”
“No,” he declares.
I tuck my chin into my neck, almost offended. “So, a painful death is my fate, then?” My voice cracks. “You want me to just accept that?”
“You’re not useful to them, so they do not need to imprison you. To which I will keep them at bay. Stop being stubborn.”
The words are what I want to hear, but the offer irritates the part of my heart desperate to trust; so very aware of how easy it would be for Soren to manipulate me. The man remains as still as stone, only his chest rising and falling in front of me. I hardly blink as I ask, “You changed your mind this much because of something Cypress said?”
A few moments pass before he replies, “I became a Zenith because the mask is feared, and I agreed to the rules of the Council because they have a collective network that I need. Your little witch gave me another opportunity, and it involves keeping you alive. So, I’m keeping my options open.”
I crane my whole head to look into his face. He's a scary fucker with little scars becoming more apparent the longer I stare, the man an embodiment of the very world that makes me a hopeless creature to men like him. "And I’m simply supposed to trust you? Trust Cypress? No one is giving me anything . Only Melona gave me something concrete, but it’s not like I can ask her for insight. I don’t even know where I’d find her.”
His tone is gentler as he replies, “We both know there’s nothing I can offer you that would gain your trust, other than to free you. Same goes for Cypress. I suggest you find a way to accept that things have changed, even if you have blatant trust issues.”
Taking in the stubble lining his cheeks, my heart is fascinated with the intimate side of him.
His kinder voice is like sustenance to a starving man, filling the void that’s eating away at itself. Knowing that he can even attempt to be a man worth bargaining with is somehow more painful, like I managed to get just that much closer to the surface.
The fight inside my chest is eaten away by exhaustion. Melona’s warning once guided me like a northern star, and now I can’t spot it in the sky anymore. “Give me my rubies and I’ll cooperate.”
His lips twitch into a stifled laugh, those battle-hardened eyes softening.
I add, “I’m serious. I haven’t touched a piece of home in years .”
An energy changes about the Zenith, reminding me of someone who caves when they know they shouldn’t. Much like I do when he touches me. He sounds almost amused as he says, “Would go nice with your hair…”
My eyes widen as I grind out, “I don’t like you.”
Unphased, he says, “We both know that’s a lie.”
“It’s only because I’ve lived among simple men for too long. Don’t get an ego over it. You’re not special,” I defend, not sure what to do with my hands. The drive to assault him doesn’t exist like it did before, not when I recall how he held me down…
“I wonder if you’d say those words when I’m balls deep inside of you,” he boldly states.
My body’s betrayal is a familiar friend when it comes to Soren, my mind numb to any obligations I may I owe.
His thumb rises to touch my bottom lip. “You came so easily, love.”
Soren’s words melt away at what resistance I had left. Which is a terrifying idea. Maybe I should stamp hard on his foot, and just run for the coast and hope the sirens will help me—
His grip around my throat tightens, nearly hurting me. "Don't even try it."
I wish I could read him the way he can read others. He gets in my face, Soren’s walls fading as a deep craving clouds his gaze; it’s the only warning I have before his lips crash onto mine in an unforgiving kiss. His forceful tongue fills my mouth, and because I'm no better, I kiss him back with a heart that has no idea what to feel.
A carnal passion engages in a battle of tongues, lips, and teeth. There’s a raw intensity that’s different from the other night, as if the enraged behemoth channels his frustration in this aggressive exchange.
His calloused hands run underneath my tunic and across my skin, yanking my shirt off while hair shrouds my vision. My nipples harden as my skin pebbles from the air.
"What are you doing?" I manage to utter, my lips swollen from our fervent exchange. I hope he understands I mean the question in the broader spectrum of our actions, not just this very moment.
“This whole situation has completely fucked everything up,” he complains, throwing my shirt onto the floor before tearing off his own. “So, I’m going to angrily fuck you and hope it helps.”
"Don't make me swoon all at once,” I halfheartedly joke before I take a step near to place my hands on his face and bring him to my level.
And that tongue of his when we kiss again, the way it claims my mouth before he bites my lower lip while his hands untie my leather pants, has me blind to the world. "Take them off," he huskily commands.
I remove them as quick as I can—because I also want to angrily fuck Soren. Once both legs are out, I realize I failed to notice that he pulls out a piece of red rope from near his cloak on a dresser; his color.
I fixate on what he holds, but the man is quick like he’s done this more than once. Just as I’m about to move away, the killer is on me with my back to his stomach while his powerful arms hold me in place. He loops my hands through a pre-made knot, pulling it to immobilize my wrists. He ensures it's taught—despite my squirming and stomping on his boots—then releases me.
Naked and exposed, I turn to glare at him as I try to move my wrists through my constraints. The reckless side to my heart revs with hunger, while my remaining sanity tells me to be prepared for anything .
Whatever mercy he has will be my salvation.
Soren's domineering gaze haunts me as he unhooks his belt, the two ends dangling as he closes in the space between us. I jerk my hands away because I still don't know who he truly is and what his intentions are, but he grabs one of my arms to hold me still, sliding his belt from his pants to loop through my bindings. Yanking gets me nowhere, his smile the only tangible response from him.
Soren pulls me toward the bed, the understanding of truly being at his utter mercy slowly sinking in. My mouth hangs open with words I’m eager to speak, and yet I remain completely mute.
I simply didn't picture this when I imagined him coming for me.
The Zenith pushes me on the bed and I fall with no grace. He grabs my bound wrists and lifts them above my head never allowing me a moment to adjust. My restless legs are useless at this angle, my flailing body and grunts only an embarrassment as he runs his belt around one of the metal frames to the bed, buckling me to it. All I can really do is watch the muscles of his stomach move, craning my neck to see his concentrated face.
I give the strongest jerk I have once he drops his hands, but there’s no give at all. My heart races and my jaw trembles, never having been so restrained before, while confusingly liking it.
He dares to lean down over me, gripping my jaw while I'm immobile, some strands of his bound hair in his eyes. I try to jerk my head away, but he holds me still and says, "Being bound is what you get for your last stunt." He releases my face and I jerk it to the side as if to convince myself I’m not completely subjected to his whim. I give him a look similar to how he was looking at me back when he realized I was singing the sunder —I'm angry and horny as hell. He runs his hand over the pink scar on my stomach from where Anya stabbed me.
"Stop behaving like a scrappy fighter, and you won't get more of these," he says, those eyes locking away his true thoughts, and I don’t have any option but to watch how he touches me. "Especially if you knock me unconscious again.”
I'm silent, turned on, and so confused. Soren steps away from the bed to untie his pants, his forearms rippling with the motion as I bareface watch him; his hips become visible. Fuck, what’s wrong with me? I should be thrashing, kicking, or biting the air. Shouting for help. Anything.
Instead, I simply exhale with a heady need at the way his veined, hard cock is revealed, the damned thing large enough to concern me. Primal cravings hypnotize my rationale, realizing he's going to have his way with me, and I'm very confident I will relish in it.
Where did the Jane go that would fight to the death when entangled like this? Who is this silent woman I find myself inhabiting? And why does this work so perfectly? I still feel an obliged confliction in my desires for Soren, and this sets me free of that.
His body is perfection, thick with muscle and healed wounds slashing through his thighs. Neither of us speaks as he mounts the bed, the furniture taking the weight of him as I grip his belt to hold me steady to prevent my arms from stretching too far.
All right, I indulge. I'm enjoying this, even if I worry that he's going to betray me... even if I'm afraid that being intimate with him sabotages any ability for me to have a normal relationship after this.
Closing my legs seems like an interesting option—I'm caught in the wake of whatever power exchange is happening, and I want him to pry them open. He gives a dark glower when my knees tightly sew together, his lips curling into a smile as he can no doubt feel that I want this.
He slides his hands in between my thighs and parts me open, all the while devouring my face to translate the storm inside of me. He lines himself between my legs so the back of my thighs rest on top of his, his cock resting right on my cunt as I shiver from anticipation.
I’m so close to moaning, that dignity seems unable to exist inside my treacherous heart.
"When we get to Skull's Row, are you going to run?" he asks, maintaining this posture of dominance.
"I don't know," I confess.
"I'm a disciplined man, Jane. I can stay here as long as you need before the lesson sinks in that you don't run from me while you're in my charge. The time spent to track you down was a waste ."
I'm so slick at this point, distracted by thoughts of what he's going to say when he finds out how wet he makes me. He slowly rocks his hips, watching me with unblinking eyes as he grazes my clit. I actually moan as my eyelids lower.
When I can’t find any words, Soren deftly adjusts his alignment as I feel the tip of his cock find its place before sliding inside of me with a singular motion, his gaze glued to mine like he's enjoying the thrill of me losing myself to him.
" Ah !" I gasp, which rolls into a loud moan.
My pussy burns from the sudden stretching, but the way he deeply penetrates has my legs going limp.
His laugh fills the quiet room. "You're so fucking wet."
I moan so loud I'm ashamed of myself. Soren leans over, every bit of his powerful stomach and shoulders moving as he pushes further into my slick heat, and I'm so full of this mercenary that I swear I can’t fit any more of him.
The dying fight inside of me manages to speak through my debauched haze, "For all I know, this is a part of the plan. They sent a Zenith that's—well, that looks like you, to lure me in..."
He smiles, slowly moving, and never pulling out far. It's like he wants to bury himself into me over and over, and the sensation of being filled by this mercenary legend takes me to another level. "You're going to have to complete that thought."
"No, I don't," I grind out, but the shake of my arms reminds the both of us that I'm in no position to negotiate.
"You're the one bound, love, and you can't touch me with your magic, either. If you sing your little song, I'll just shove my cock between those pretty lips."
My eyes roll while I look away, groaning, especially when his thighs are flush with the back of mine. My legs willingly spread more, helping him.
I've neglected this side of me for far too long, and Soren is playing me like a rusted instrument, cleaning me for his use.
"Say it," he commands, one hand gripping the back of my thigh as the other touches all over my ribs, breasts, and tattoo. "I'm a Zenith that's... finish the thought."
"You're fucking attractive, okay?" I grind out, not looking at him.
He moves a hand to grab my face, and it's not like I can stop him. His piercing eyes are raw with captivation. Soren thrusts in as my body shudders, leaning over to crush my lips with his. Just as annoyed, he says into my mouth, "And you're such a pretty thing that I can't focus."
I hate this man.
His laughter taunts me. “You are so fond of lying to yourself.”
Soren changes tempo, moving in and out so when I look down, I can see his slick shaft disappearing into me, over and over. His pants turn into groans when I squeeze his cock, sounds of pleasure flowing out of me unconstrained; I even rise to kiss him, and he happily leans down to greet my lips, sliding the hand that's on my jaw underneath my head to fist my hair, his tongue smoothly gliding against mine. The bed moves with his rhythm, the wooden floor creaking, my hands still firmly bound.
The hand behind my thigh slides down further, his stomach now touching mine. Our matching inscriptions of ink nearly graze at times.
Soren parts from the kiss, watching my face as he growls when my eyes nearly roll. I stare at the handsome, scarred face, those lips perfectly plump but still masculine. "Why don't you just hurt me?"
He pushes harder into me, pleasure spreading across his face when I gasp. "We're in the same boat, love. Annoyingly attracted to the other." He shoves in hard once more, the bed creaking. "But don't fucking take off again," he gets rougher, more unforgiving, and I just pant with an unholy bliss. "Or I’ll fuck your needy cunt right in front of my men.”
“ Gods , I loathe you,” I moan out. My eyes beseech me as I glance down to watch his hips move as he fucks me, whimpering when I feel an orgasm rising.
"Come for me again, Zenith princess." Soren’s voice is raw and needy, fucking me purely for his own gratification.
His name escapes my lips, his groan sharpening with possession. I chase that feeling, knowing my release is close. Screw it, I need this. He angles just right, a sexual whine crooning in my throat.
I close my eyes when my clit rubs against him, trying to imagine he’s someone else—
His body stiffens as he rasps, “No, you look at me and come on my cock knowing exactly who’s fucking you.”
I hold my breath, staring into those pale eyes... Soren Latham. The Zenith sent to capture me is who I’m coming for. Euphoria rushes over me and there’s a moment of clarity where I realize I’m actually going to come for him and there’s nothing I can do. I can’t stop his perfect rhythm or shift my body, and the way ecstasy consumes me as I scream out—the mercenary swiftly fucks to his own rhythm before pushing deep into me one last time, his stolid face contorting with a lack of control when he reaches his climax nearly at the same time as me.
We both pant, our bodies so thoroughly interlocked I can feel him pulsating as he continues to spill into me. My body is blissfully spent, the weight of Soren leaning into me, making me feel oddly calm. He leans down so our lips graze, staring right into my eyes as he says, “I’ll always find you, Jane. Never forget that.”