Chapter Eleven – Jessa
Chapter Eleven
Jessa
I’m the most horrible person alive. Right now, I’m not sure I chose my career well, because how can I help people when I’m such a selfish, insensitive idiot?
I climb out of the pool and grab my towel, rubbing it over my body quickly while Castien stands with his back to me. Steam rises from him as he uses his internal heat to dry the water running down in rivulets over his perfect planes.
I feel guilty again, but who does that help?
I stuff the wet towel back into my backpack, getting everything inside properly soggy, then get dressed in a blur.
I pull out an energy bar and my water bottle, realizing I’m both hungry and thirsty.
Especially thirsty. A few drops slip down my chin as I drink.
When I unwrap the energy bar, the wrapper sticks to my fingers and makes me groan in annoyance.
Every little thing pissed me off, but I know it’s not the wrapper, nor the hunger, thirst, nor Castien’s attitude, for that matter. It’s me.
“I’m sorry,” I apologize again. “I overstepped. Can you ever forgive me?”
He turns and looks at me. His silver eyes meet mine.
“There’s nothing to forgive, Jessa. I am the problem.”
“You’re not–”
“We should continue.” He cuts me off and starts walking toward the exit without asking me if I’m ready to move on.
I bite my lip hard, grimacing. I really want to say more, but he’s not willing to hear me out. I should give him space. I follow him, resigned, but my mind is not on the mission anymore.
I think about what I just learned about him.
First, he is definitely not just a machine.
The fact that he doubts himself and questions what he is…
that’s genuine human behavior. I don’t think it’s programmed responses.
That Aether Core of his truly acts like a real seat of consciousness, maybe even a soul.
Second, he’s a virgin. He’s never even touched himself. He has a fully functional cock, probably made of steel like the rest of him, and he’s never made himself come. That knowledge does something to me. My cheeks grow hot, and wetness pools between my legs.
Is it so wrong that I kind of want to corrupt him?
Yes. Definitely wrong. He just explained how difficult it is for him to reconcile his anatomy with his values.
Being with me – with any woman – goes against everything he stands for.
And he’s clearly not interested. I haven’t seen a single piece of evidence that he might be attracted to me the way I’m attracted to him.
Well, except for a few minutes ago, when he asked me to give him a moment to compose himself.
Maybe my nakedness does affect him. Or maybe he was just distressed by the horrible thing I asked him to do.
Show me his cock. Who does that? What person in their right mind asks someone to show them their cock?
I groan and run my fingers through my damp hair, pulling harshly at the knots. I feel like banging my head against the cavern wall.
We arrive at a steep spiral staircase carved into the rock.
The steps descend into darkness, worn smooth by centuries.
The walls are covered in carved stone faces.
That’s the detail that makes me pause and snap back to the present, my senses once again alert.
Their features are grotesque but undeniably human, with gaping mouths and hollow eye sockets that seem to watch us.
I recognize the challenge and reach out to stop Castien from descending.
He recoils from my touch, pressing himself against the wall.
I step back quickly, giving him space.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to...” I clear my throat. “I just need to tell you what we’re about to go through.”
His head tilts slightly, curious.
“I read about the Spiral of Echoes in an old book. I think only one or two people ever reached this challenge.”
“But that means surviving the Blade Corridor,” he says. “You said no one has ever–”
“The rooms and corridors move, remember? Ancient magic.”
“Sorry, continue.”
“The Spiral of Echoes is meant to make people go crazy. The stone faces move and talk, and they say terrible things. It’s important to ignore them.”
Castien studies the carved mouths lining the walls.
“That doesn’t sound too difficult.”
I don’t tell him that I’m very tempted to turn back right now. I know what the mouths will say, but if I explain that to him, maybe he’ll be the one to want to return. We’ll want to turn back together, not face this challenge at all, and then we’ll have come so far for nothing.
We start down the stairs. The faces watch us descend, their bulged-out eyes following us. The steps spiral deeper and deeper, and the air grows colder with each step we take. Maybe that means we’re getting closer to the vault. A girl can hope.
“I can’t... Mother, forgive me...”
The voice is thin and desperate. A shudder runs through me, and my grip on the flashlight tightens. If I get startled, it’s important that I don’t drop it. A second mouth continues the lament.
“My leg... oh God, my leg is gone...”
“I was so close... I don’t want to turn back… But if I don’t…”
These are the words of the people who died in these caves or abandoned the journey. All Holloways, all thinking they could beat the traps. The magic in the walls listened to them and registered their thoughts.
The voices wail and whisper, but it’s not too bad. Just as I think that, they switch gears, as if they can tell I’m not affected.
“I will fail. What makes me so special that I’ll succeed where others didn’t?” a voice hisses. It sounds… like me.
I falter. No. Please… No.
“They died trying, and here I am, thinking I’m better than them,” another head says as I pass it.
“I’m not better. I’m an awful person.”
“Selfish, entitled. I’m not enough, never will be. I’m pretending.”
My heart pounds as my own self-doubt pours from the carved mouths. I increase my pace as much as I can without tumbling down the stairs.
“I am filthy. I am unworthy.” This voice sounds polyphonic.
“Who do I think I am, clinging to human things?”
Oh, Castien… I half hoped the ancient magic wouldn’t be able to read his thoughts. There are no accounts of two people facing the Spiral together, so I don’t know if the voices will try to turn us against each other or merely just embarrass us.
“Abomination pretending to have a soul.”
Our fears and insecurities are out in the open. I don’t turn to look at him, but I can feel his gaze on my nape. I can hear him climbing down just as urgently as I am. If he had any space to spread his wings, I’m guessing he would’ve taken advantage of it by now.
The stairs seem endless, spiraling down into the heart of the earth. The voices grow louder and more insistent, digging deeper with the purpose of drawing blood.
“I wanted to rub myself against him and make myself come.”
Oh… No. Damn it. No, no, no. I freeze, feeling mortified, holding my breath.
“I want to feel his fingers in my pussy. Will they feel smooth? Cold? Hot?”
My face flushes, but the shame I feel doesn’t stop my body from betraying me. My pussy gushes, and my knees buckle. I didn’t even realize I wanted him so badly until the magic in the walls made it clear.
I need to start moving again. Stopping now will just make it worse.
“I want to see his cock. I wonder if it’s made of steel, like the rest of him.”
I hear Castien halt. So much heat radiates from him that it makes me sweat again.
“When he comes, what comes out of his balls? I assume he must have balls...”
Voices that sound like him join in, and I soon find out I’m not the only one who has disregarded all boundaries.
“I want her in the most sinful, degrading ways.”
“I want to hold her down and bury my cock inside her.”
Oh… Oh…
I force my feet to move. One step, another… Come on, when will these stairs end?
“What would it feel like to have her pussy squeeze me, milk me?”
Mmm… what would it feel like, indeed? My pussy agrees we should do something about it and find out.
Damn it. I can’t stop even now. I start humming a random tune in my head, hoping that will confuse the voices so they don’t pull out my latest thoughts.
“Would she cling to me? Would she kiss my mouthless face?”
He wants me just as much as I want him. Maybe more…
“If I had a tongue, I would lick her clit until she filled my mouth with her essence.”
I nearly stumble on the next step. At least I can hear Castien descending behind me, though he’s left significant space between us.
“I want to taste her, but I can’t. Maybe she would want to taste me.”
That’s not… an idea I’m opposed to.
“She wanted to see my cock earlier. I should’ve shown it to her. I wanted to do it so badly.”
“I want to see the expression on her face as she looks at my cock. Would she think it adequate?”
I’m so horny right now, I’d probably think any cock is adequate. As long as someone is willing to shove it in my face.
The stone faces continue their relentless broadcast of our most private thoughts. Every filthy desire I’ve had about Castien, and every fantasy my mind has conjured in the last twenty-four hours. His thoughts are just as explicit and desperate.
I feel my body throb with both need and shame. I wonder how he feels now that I know what he’s been thinking. Does he hate me less? More?
I force myself to keep moving. Just keep moving. Keep descending. Castien is right behind me, as silent as a tomb. The voices continue, mixing our desires together until I can’t tell which thoughts are mine and which are his. Maybe because they’re similar in all the lust and want they express.
Finally, the stairs end. We find ourselves in a new corridor, and there’s only silence. I can hear myself panting, and there’s a soft, whirring buzz coming from Castien. I don’t know what it means.
I’m tense, my muscles locked, bracing myself for some horror that I’m convinced will befall us. Nothing happens. The silence mocks us, and I briefly wonder if I imagined all of it.
I slowly turn to look at Castien, my eyes traveling from his chest to his face. His eyes glow brighter than I’ve ever seen them. I open my mouth to say something, though I’m not sure what, but he stops me firmly.
“Don’t.”
Well, then. I close my mouth – which… he’s right, is for the best – turn on my heel and start walking again.