Chapter 25
Apparently, Eltson is currently trying to outrun us.
It’s not going to happen though. Mort says Black Siron’s ship is much faster. I am super happy though; this experience has not been bad at all. Quite the opposite, weirdly enough.
Here I thought I was bought into some dark, twisted, sex slavery ring, but I have been treated like gold here.
It’s very confusing because I am here relaxing like a queen on my fancy bed listening to Mort chew gummy bears. Not a pleasant sound. A lot of swishing and sloshing.
“Where did you get those?”
She looks up at me from her desk in the corner of our small room. “Pierce.”
“He just gives you candy randomly?” I ask with a frown.
She rolls her eyes. “Not randomly, just when he feels bad. Earlier when I was scouting, I took a wrong turn and got caught in a room I was not supposed to be in.”
I sit up and stare at her. “What room?”
“It’s not a big deal.”
“Well, it warranted gummy bears.”
She shrugs, ignoring me.
“Just tell me, I’m bored to tears.”
She sighs like I’m annoying. Mort looks like she is reliving something vile all of a sudden, her face losing some color.
“The chamber pot room. The man shut the door and I could not escape. I just had to flutter around until he was done with his…business.”
I’m laughing before my brain can even process what she said.
“It’s not funny, human,” Mort hisses, cheeks red.
I fall against the bed, her angry face making me laugh harder. “You eat those gummy bears, you deserve them.” I snort into my pillow.
Mort chews as she glares at me. “Being serious now—it has been three days since you saw Siron?”
I wipe my eyes and think on that. “I thought it was longer than that, but yeah.”
She looks thoughtful. “What is with everyone being on the verge of death?”
“You think he is on the verge of death?”
Mort pops more gummies in her mouth. “Could be. That ex-girlfriend must have been very angry with him, nasty curse. The men on the ship are scared she will start coming after them.
“But wouldn’t it be awesome if that Siron prick died? You would be free if he did, making getting back to Apollo easier.”
I chew on my lip. “Yeah,” I say, and take a breath. I get up, ready to get out of this room, feeling very claustrophobic all the sudden. “Mort, I will be back. Please watch where you’re flying, for Pete’s sake. ”
I can almost hear her rolling her eyes.
I wander aimlessly, nowhere in particular, just letting my heart lead the way. I laugh. My heart cannot be trusted, it tends to get me into lots of trouble.
I wonder why Siron has not sought me out. I thought I was bought as a sex object. Not that I’m complaining—just confused, is all. Maybe the man ~is~ very ill. He could be dead right now for all I know.
It’s probably what he deserves. All his bad deeds must have caught up with him.
What is done in the dark is always brought to the light, or so the girls at the strip joint always claimed. I believe them too—you should have seen their faces, very serious.
But that doesn’t stop me from wandering hallways I have never been through.
One of my many faults will always be curiosity. Which is why I signed the Fairy Godmother contract in the first place—I could not die in this life without knowing.
I think it’s been an hour of me wandering with little luck. Why do I want to find him? Not sure—curiosity, I am guessing.
I wander back into their library, if you want to call it that. Study? It is one of the cozier rooms, which means the couches are not metal. They have black velvet cushions, which is way better than steel on your butt.
I take a random book off the bookshelf and plop down, gazing at the cover. It’s some dictionary that looks fabulously boring. I’m not sure if I have enough patience for this.
I am too lazy to get up and look for another, my mind and body exhausted. My head falls back against the cushion, deep in thought.
It’s crazy to think about where I started in all of this and now where I am at. What a ride it’s been, for lack of better words. This has not been the Disney movie I envisioned.
That’s when I hear his cane, and for a split second, I get excited—no, I get ~surprised~ .
It’s not excitement. It’s my boredom making me think crazy thoughts. I calm myself and take a breath as I listen. I hear him pause as he enters the room, probably seeing me.
Did he not want to see me? Strange.
“I can leave,” I say, feeling his presence behind me.
I hear him continue to walk into the room, then I see him as he sits right across from me. He is wearing a tight, black shirt which makes him look larger than life. The dark villain.
I look away for a second, not wanting my brain to go to places I don’t want it to. “I was just leaving.”
Siron leans forward and grabs the book out of my hand with a frown.
I blush. “I just picked a random one.”
He slightly grins and gets up, walking with his cane to the bookshelf. Skimming his long fingers over some novels, he finds the one he is searching for.
Siron walks back over to me and sits on the same couch as me, tossing the book onto my lap.
I swallow, not expecting him to sit next to me. “What is this? How to enslave people?”
His expression does not change as I look down at it.
I try not to smile, but it’s hard. I close my eyes as I fight the grin that threatens my person. From the cover of this book, it is obviously a romance, and somewhere inside me, I can’t believe how sweet the gesture is.
I take a steady breath as I look back at him. “Thank you, this sounds much better.” ~Damn it.~ I grin at him and ask, “This yours?”
His eyes sparkle as he takes out a notepad from his pocket. Why does even that seem endearing? I need to get off this ship and away from him ASAP. I am losing my freaking mind. Cabin fever?
He writes, then looks back to me, showing me. ~Please tell no one. It’ll ruin me.~
I laugh out loud. Holy mother of Mike, this cutthroat pirate is joking with me. “Whose is it really?” Probably belongs to one of his many female slaves.
He writes again then sighs as he hands me back the note. ~My chief’s wife. Bloody irritating for a cutthroat and evil individual to have this sort of blasphemous material.~
I laugh again and can’t seem to wipe the smile from my face. I look away because he is staring at me like he wants to dissect me or something.
I can smell him and it’s not something I want to comment on. The fresh scent is nothing groundbreaking. Tons of men shower regularly and use great smelling soap.
Congratulations, you’re not disgusting. Not worth a medal. Mega eye roll.
He hands me a note and I glance at it. ~My dancer, were you looking for me?~
My cheeks heat and I try to play it off. “No!” I stare again at his narrowed eyes.
“Well, I was just a little curious about your health, seeing how you’re in charge here. I want to know what my future looks like.”
I glance at him, then to his full lips. The color looks fine. I mean, they look healthy, not cold and blueish like a dead person. They have a nice creamy hue…I look away, feeling like I am the twilight zone.
I squeeze my eyes shut, telling myself to be normal. ~ Please~ , be normal. “So, how ~is~ your health?” I ask, then look at him with, I’m hoping, a normal expression .
My eyes might be too overly wide, though it’s hard to tell. ~Hi, my name is Awkward. What’s yours?~
He tilts his head at me like he is studying me. I hate when he does that, like he’s trying to see into my soul. He leans back on the couch, displaying his wide girth—not god-like in any way.
Siron finally starts writing, then places the note on my thigh— ~upper~ thigh.
I stare at the note on my beautiful emerald gown with gold lining. It was brought to me today, and I wonder if he picked it out or if it was just a random thing. Random, most likely.
I feel like it’s hot in here, my hormones must be all whacked out. Nothing three margaritas wouldn’t fix though. Just saying.
I looked around, wondering if they have tequila on this ship.
Focus.
I pick up the note and read it ~. My health is not your concern. I will say that you look a little pale, I hope you do not get seasick. If you are feeling that way my staff will be here to aid you.~
~But you should be happy to know I will release you once we make landfall.~
My head jerks toward his in shock.
He just stares back at me, dark eyes glittering.
“Why?” I don’t mean to sound so upset, because I’m not. This could not have worked out more perfectly. I nod and smile, feeling a little lost. What’s giving me pause? Why does my chest feel tight?
He is writing, and I watch him—dark tattoos gracing his golden skin, tight black shirt, Zorro mask, and shining black hair .
I curse.
I just need to see Apollo again. I almost feel tears welling in my eyes, my confusion is so frustrating.
If I was a physiologist, I’d probably say the sudden fall of Apollo impacted me emotionally and this is normal. Feelings of attachment are to be expected. It’s how you’re dealing with this sudden trauma.
I glance at him and realize he has been watching me while my inner battle is going on.
He slowly hands me the note, and I look. ~I see so much sorrow in your lovely eyes. Is this for Apollo? Do you not like my gift of freedom to you?~
I take a shaky breath. “Honestly?” I whisper. “I don’t know.”
Please don’t cry.
He hands me another note. ~If you love him, then go to him.~
I look at him angrily. “Why are you so nice? I thought you were this feared monster!” Why am I yelling?! I am losing my shit, and I don’t know why. Is Aunt Flow making an early trip to see me? Perfect!
He looks down and starts to write, pausing every few seconds like he is at a loss for words. I take another shaky breath and realize I could be having a panic attack. This whole experience it a lot to take in.
First off, I am on this weird planet trying to make Apollo fall in love with me, then BOOM he is almost dead.
Then I get this weird mind-fuck and get bought by this mega-sexy bad boy that is turning out to be the biggest teddy bear! ~Shit~ . Tears are streaming down my face. I hate this.
I feel him grab my arm and jerk me toward him. My small body is now in his large lap. I stop crying .
I’ve never been this close to him before. I can feel his body heat and rock-hard muscle under me, and it makes me lightheaded.
Guilt fills me instantly. I am cheating on Apollo, it occurs to me—who is on his deathbed, for crying out loud!
Siron grabs me and pulls me to him, my head nuzzling his smooth neck. I feel more tears streaming down my cheeks as his arms encircle me tightly.
I feel his energy engulf me fully, and I never want him to let me go. Absolute insanity.
I can’t do this.
This is so wrong on so many levels.
I pull back and try to get out of his arms, but he holds me still. I look at him, and he hands me a note, his dark gaze intense. ~Tell me what hurts you.~
“I can’t,” I sob.
He tilts his head and expels a breath.
“Why are you being nice to me? Why do you seem different? Why aren’t you mean and cruel? You are not making sense to me right now,” I moan in misery.
He adjusts himself so he can pull out his notepad to write. He writes quickly, glancing up at me every so often. I wish I could see under the mask.
Siron shows me the note. ~I still might be all the things you ask about, but circumstances have changed. I am dying, little dancer, and maybe I’d like to do something right for once.~
“What?! Why is every man I care about dying?” I scream. “What the hell is happening?!”
His eyes widen .
I clamp my mouth shut, heart pounding. Did I just admit to caring about him? Shit. I push off him and run from the room like a lunatic. Class-A crazy.
And the award for the best insane performance goes to…Viola!
Standing ovation.
I need therapy, a shrink, or maybe I will check myself into the nutty house, I’m sure they have one of those here. Insanity is common among humans everywhere.
I am not sure how I make it back to my room without a mental breakdown in the hallway for everyone to witness. I lay on my bed and scream into my pillow, kicking and punching the soft mattress.
Then the tears come, slow and brutal, like slow embers. I need to pull my shit together. I have never been this emotional before.
“Where have you been?!” Mort is suddenly in the room. “They are gaining on Eltson’s ship and are closing in fast!”
I jerk up and sniff, wiping my eyes quickly.
“Are you crying?”
“No.”
She snorts. “Looks like you are. Anyway, Laura is on the ship and apparently has not had the time of leisure as we had. The man Eltson is a real bastard apparently—she had to use a lifeline.”
“Is she okay?” I ask, genuinely concerned, sniffing slightly. I guess not every captor is like Black Siron. I squeeze my eyes shut— ~don’t you dare cry, you cheap hooker.~
I put myself down because it will toughen me up. It’s proven to work, or so I was told by the head stripper at the club. I give myself a shake and get up, taking a calming breath.
I got this.
No, I don’t .
Yes, I do.
No.
Yes.
No.
“Human? You okay?” Mort asks with a raised brow.
“Mort,” I take another breath and grit my teeth, “how is Apollo?”
She frowns. “I think the same, no new updates are logged.”
I nod and try to re-braid my hair—step one in getting my shit together. “So what do we do now?”
“We can go up and see the action until they say differently, I guess. You need to tell Siron that we need to save the other princess.
“Laura needs to be out of harm’s way or she might have to be ejected from the game altogether. Personally speaking, I think she is over this.
“Eltson came to her completely naked, wanting to play torture games—hence the lifeline.”
I shiver. “That’s bad.”
Mort nods.
I take a deep breath and finish with my hair. “Okay, I’m going up.”
I can hear shouts and screams already. I make my way to the top deck and see total chaos, cannons being loaded, men with dangerous-looking weapons aimed and ready.
I hear an ear-splitting sound and realize that we are in combat. My heart is pounding as I try to locate a bow.
I can shoot better than anyone on this ship—well, save for the fishing bow that I never got to shoot with Siron. I need to think fast and collected, not letting emotions rule my actions .
I run up to the red-haired highlander, kicking myself for not catching his name. “I need a bow!”
He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Go below deck, lass, are you crazy?!”
“I can shoot!”
He pushes me out of the way and barks orders to the other men. Double damn.
I glance up and see Siron shouting commands while carrying a long, deadly blade on the deck above me, no cane in sight. I wonder if he is hurting, exerting himself like this.
As if he could sense my stare, our gazes clash, and I can sense his panic like a ton of bricks. Like a child caught with scissors in a running stance.
I will reflect on this later, but right now, he is making his way to me, jumping over this and that like a seasoned athlete running to the finish line. No signs of him being disabled.
He waves his arm for me to go below deck like a crazy person. He stops in front of me, entirely out of breath. His large chest moves up and down as his dark gaze sears me.
“I need a bow! I can shoot better than anyone here!” I yell over another loud crash. I think my right ear is humming.
He closes his eyes and shakes his head ~no~ .
“Siron, trust me!”
He angrily shakes his head ~no~ again, then points to the door— ~or he will carry me~ . He mimes that he will pick me up over his shoulder.
He is counting down from five like I’m a toddler, making me mental.
“Don’t you dare!”
Within seconds I am heaved over his shoulder, my ass in the air. I try kicking and screaming but it is a lost effort .
He puts me down in the library, dropping me on the couch. My hair covers my face so I can’t see him through the heavy mess of my hair.
“Siron!” I scream through angry tears.
I feel him pulling my hair away from my face until I see him. He grabs my face in his hands and his lips descend on mine.
I am frozen.
I feel the impact clear down to my toes, my heart in sudden shatters. He pulls back abruptly, and I bring my hand to my lips to try and feel the contact. ~He kissed me~ .
Siron closes his eyes like he is angry and leaves me there on the couch with my erratic thoughts.
I’m not sure how long I sit there until I hear Mort screaming my name.
“Viola! What is wrong with you?!” Mort is in front of my face.
I look up at her, my badass self finally emerging after long thoughts of confusion and self-pity. “I need a briefing, Mort. Cut all the bullshit! I know I have been acting weird.”
She takes a second, then says, “We are being overpowered. Siron is hurt, and I fear this could go south! It can’t go south, that will only lessen our chances.”
I stand up and hold out my hand, eyes narrowed. “Give me one badass motherfucking bow.”
Mort’s eyes widen, then she smiles, typing away. “Glad to have you back, human.”