Chapter 4 Lyx
FOUR
Lyx
Curiosity overtakes Tidus’s rage. “You got a meeting with Heathen?”
Pain tingles through Lyx’s jaw. She jerks out of his grip. “Turns out your favorite little rat works for them now.”
Tidus lifts a puzzled brow.
“Cavalier,” she reminds him. When Tidus looks at her blankly, her skin prickles. “The one who drew the map!”
“That’s who threw Roderick overboard?” Tidus balks before he laughs heartily. “Well, I’ll be damned; that chatty little dragon keeps coming through for me.”
His delight makes Lyx’s blood boil. That chatty dragon has haunted her for the past two years, yet Tidus can’t be bothered to remember his name. She yanks another pin from her hair and curls her fist around it.
With a sigh, Tidus returns to his chair and basks in the glow of a job well done — Lyx’s job well done. “You know…” His voice shifts lower than before. “Heathen doesn’t give meetings to just anyone.”
Lyx doesn’t like the way he looks at her, gaze traversing the pearls that cling to her thick frame and curve over her breasts.
It was Tidus who dressed her. She had to look the part for the Silver Spoon, draped in her last remaining piece of finery.
Tidus likes when she wears it. It reminds him of when he was on top of the world, flush with gold and jewels and parading Lyx to distant ports to show off his siren catch.
A reminder that he had her, and no one else could.
“You must have looked like quite the damsel in distress.” Tidus props his elbow on the table and opens his palm toward her. “Maybe we can use that to our advantage.”
Her jaw twitches. A new plan is brewing in his mind, leaving the room as heavy and humid as a storm cloud.
He opens his legs to make space for her. It’s an instruction, not an offer. She knows it well. Just like she knows the best way to weather Tidus’s schemes is to grin and bear it, but still, her feet stay rooted in place.
For a moment, she allows herself the fantasy of resisting. In another world, she would tell him no. She would spit in his face and smack him until her hand burned with pain…but that isn’t this world. In this world, she lowers her lashes and sways toward him.
His eyes follow the motion of her hips like a pendulum. She comes to a stop in front of him and flicks a loose scallop shell off his shoulder. “What is it you’re asking?”
His fingers skim the backs of her thighs. “I’m not asking.”
Her hands curl into fists. Of course he isn’t. Why request anything when he has the power to command? The screech building in her throat turns into a smile. “What would you have me do?”
Her body jerks when he pulls her into his lap and presses her back to his chest. “Take that meeting with Heathen.” His breath is hot against her ear, his hands wandering her ample waist. “Give her some sob story. Say you’ve always dreamed of working on that pleasure ship.
” His smile stretches against her cheek.
“Tell her you’re running from your captor.
That you’re trapped. That you need safe passage. ”
She digs her nails into his arms, but they tighten around her. A leaden weight fills her stomach until she can barely breathe. This is what life with Tidus has always been like: a drowning, suffocating well of chaos with no end.
Exactly what she needs.
“Make up something pathetic.” He squeezes her hips. “Something that’ll get you on board. We’re gonna take down that bitch’s business from the inside.”
Lyx squirms, but her body is heavy and drunk from feeding. There’s no use trying to fight her way free, so she settles back against him until his grip loosens. “Why?”
Tidus’s lips skim her throat. “Heathen has plenty of followers. Once we destroy her livelihood, the crew will be looking for a new captain to serve.”
“But why this ship?” Her heavy eyelids struggle to stay open. “What’s your obsession with her?”
Tidus tenses.
Lyx tries to remain still, fighting not to flinch as his heart picks up its pace against her. When Tidus gets quiet is when he’s the most dangerous. Her throat goes dry. She wasn’t thinking. She shouldn’t have said anything. Her mouth opens to pre-empt his anger, but then, he laughs loud and long.
“The Indulgence is an easy mark. Running a pleasure ship is simple.” He buries a chuckle against her hair. “Loyal followers come with the territory.”
Shakily, Lyx exhales. She should be grateful for his unexpected pleasantness, even though she’s waiting for lightning to strike. Still, his good moods are few and far between. She can’t help but push her luck. “And if I do this for you, what do I get?”
Tidus laughs again. It’s a joke, but she never finds humor in it. It’s easier for him to give her something if he wants the job done without a fight. If he wants her to do it well.
Easing off his chest, she lifts her hair and looks at him over her shoulder. “Unclasp me?”
His eyes narrow, but she knows him; he can’t resist temptation.
Sex always manages to distract him. He brings his hands to her neck, unhooking her dress before he drags his roughened palms down the bare skin of her back.
He hums in his throat, leaning forward to press his lips to her hairline.
“If you do this for me,” he murmurs leisurely, “I’ll return your song. ”
The pins drop from her hand and clatter to the floor.
She grabs the table to stay upright, her body thrumming like the hammered strings of a piano.
Tidus has never offered that. Surely she heard him wrong.
She has no doubt that if she turns, she’ll be met with his merciless smile and the crushing truth, so she doesn’t move. She doesn’t even speak.
“You want it that bad, huh?” He traces the tense muscles of her shoulders that wind down her spine. “I’m starting to think this song controls you, not the other way around.” Pityingly, he clicks his tongue. “You’re never gonna free yourself like that.”
Fuck him. He doesn’t want her to be free at all. He enjoys this too much, dangling her song in front of her like a worm on a hook.
Acid swells on her tongue, but she bites it until it bleeds. “Why would you give me that?”
“What use is it to me?” Two years of irritation seep into his tone. “I can’t get it to work. You can’t use it for me.” He curls his arms around her. “The only thing it’s good for is keeping you close.”
She waits for him to change his mind, but it doesn’t happen. He’s serious. Foolish hope darts through her chest, and she turns to push open his shirt.
Scar tissue grows around the spiral shell embedded in his left pectoral.
When she hovers her hand over it, it glows, like her song is a living thing trapped inside.
The light’s not as strong as it used to be.
Over time, its sheen has faded, returning only when she craves something to desperation.
These days, it only shines when she imagines her freedom.
There’s no stealing it from Tidus. Depths know she’s tried.
There’s no running from him, either; she aches when she’s apart from it, a pain so deep that she swore it would kill her.
Her song is so frail now. She fears it needs a host, that Tidus is the only thing keeping it alive outside of her body.
As much as she hates him, she dreads what would happen to her song if he dies.
He snags her wrist to pull her focus back toward his face. “See? I’m not as bad as you tell yourself am.”
Her fingers flex. She wants to drag her nails into his face, but she lifts her other arm to watch her song react to her presence. It casts light into her hand, a soothing reminder that she’s not alone.
“To think I almost caught two sirens.” Tidus sighs and leans back in his chair. “That would’ve made shit so much easier. I’d have an entire fleet of ships by now.”
The memory blisters in Lyx’s mind. Mollo. It’s so easy for Tidus to recount the day Lyx’s own sister betrayed her. Lyx still doesn’t know how she did it, using magic to snatch Lyx’s song and trap it inside that shell.
Just like a siren to betray one of her own. It fills Lyx with a concoction of emotion. Fury. Pride. Hunger. She wants to smash Mollo’s head in. She wants to see what Mollo does next. She wants to get her revenge again and again until it kills one of them.
But right now, Lyx is powerless to do anything. Without the sway of the ocean or the swell of her song, she might as well be a ghost. Impotent. Unreal. So transparent that she can only wail against the walls of her prison.
“Tell me again,” she breathes, reaching for the buckle of Tidus’s pants. “Tell me you’ll return my song.”
He lets her dress fall away, cupping her breasts when he meets her eyes. “Once you get me Heathen’s secrets, this song? Your freedom?” He drags his thumbs against her nipples until they peak. “It’s all yours.”
Her mouth collides with his, hips grinding into his lap. The promise fuels her almost as much as her hatred for Tidus, for Mollo…
For Cav.
Her teeth sink into Tidus’s lip. He curses when she draws blood, gripping her ass to draw her closer. He meets her fervor, pearls scattering to the ground as he drags his mouth down her body.
The image of Cav burns behind her eyes. She’ll take her time destroying him. She’ll savor his pain and draw out his suffering, swallowing him until there’s nothing left.
When she pictures it, the shell in Tidus’s chest glows.