Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The light of the setting sun paints the sky in pinks and oranges. The colors hang above a cliff that rises at least a hundred feet above us. Only the top of the temple is visible from the beach. At the end of the dock, beyond a golden gate, are white marble stairs that lead to our next destination.
A woman wearing pale pink gossamer robes stands in front of the gate. As we approach, she nods her head in greeting. “You must make it up the stairs before your trial can begin.” Her gaze sweeps over Mikael, lingering a tad longer than necessary. “But it doesn’t appear that will be an issue.”
A lick of anger flares, but I stomp it out because he’s not mine to have such feelings about. But then her gaze falls on me, and she does the same thing.
She’s attractive; her peaked nipples and curves that perfectly shape her hourglass body are visible through her robe. The only thing she’s wearing beneath it is a strip of fabric between her legs, connected to chains that hang off her hips.
It’s sensual, and I can appreciate the view. It doesn’t spark desire, but it draws me to her. That must be part of the siren’s call. Being distracted by the vision of flesh we see.
When her seductive look and crooked smile remain, Mikael laces his fingers within mine. I glance at him, and he raises a brow. I shrug and he shakes his head.
“You two are going to be fun. Follow me,” she says, then opens the gates with a ring of keys attached to her belt.
The undergarment doesn’t cover her ass; a strip of fabric goes between each buttock, sitting just below the dimples in her back, and connects to the chain at her hips.
How is she not cold? The ocean breeze has kicked up and brings the season’s chill along with it. Mikael’s grip tightens as he leads me through the gate and up the stairs.
I keep myself in good shape, but this many stairs is grueling.
My thighs and hamstrings burn as sweat beads across my brow.
It’s getting colder, but I’m burning from the inside.
I remove my cloak and am tempted to leave it behind—but I fear that may be part of the trial.
To carry everything we’ve brought with us to the top.
The only saving grace is the ocean breeze that swirls through my hair, cooling my sweaty neck. The woman in front of us doesn’t seem bothered by the many steps we’ve already taken. Maybe this is why she’s wearing something so sheer, so that the heat of exertion doesn’t accumulate.
Mikael takes a step down and places his hand on my lower back. “Keep going.”
“Just pausing for a breath.” I move up another step. “How are you not out of breath?”
“My heart beats slower, remember? My body isn’t working as hard to pump blood through it.”
“Oh right. Lucky you.” I keep moving one foot in front of the other, step after step. It’s been too long since I’ve properly trained. Another thing I need to correct.
“Have you figured out what we’re supposed to be doing here?” he asks under his breath.
“Not exactly,” I respond.
“Great. Do you think she’ll tell us?” Mikael asks, his hand remaining on my low back as he climbs in sync with me.
“Perhaps. The dragon told us he wanted a truth,” I suggest.
“We’re almost there, so we’ll find out soon enough.” Mikael removes his hand and takes my cloak, adding it to his.
“You don’t need to do that.” I try to take it back, but he moves his arm away from his body.
“I insist.” He holds his free hand out to stop me from grabbing it.
There are only a handful of steps remaining. The towering pillars of the temple are visible, and the large structure curves inward like a crescent moon, opening to the layers below. Each terrace is connected by multiple sets of stairs.
Another golden gate waits at the top of the stairs, and I let out an amused chuckle. Imagine if you got through the bottom gates only to be barred at the top by another. I would be so upset if I had to turn around.
Our guide pushes the gates open without unlocking them. Well, maybe that is the reward. Entry to the temple for submitting to the torture of walking up all these steps.
When we walk through the gates, she brings us around a curve that opens to a full view of the temple grounds. It’s more beautiful than anything I’ve ever seen.
The multiple tiers are indeed cut into the side of the cliff, as if the marble already existed and a master stonemason had sculpted the temple perfectly around it.
Each layer has open rotundas, decorative pillars holding up their domed roofs.
Stairs are interspersed throughout the terraces, offering many ways to navigate the temple.
A large, singular waterfall flows down from the top layer. It spills into the pools below that feed the rest of the waterfalls.
The woman guides us up more stairs to the main platform.
She’s joined by three other women, all dressed the same.
One of them wears a diadem, falling to a point on her forehead, chains and white jewels adorning it.
The second holds a tray that carries two glasses filled with a shimmering liquid.
The third holds an ornately carved staff, though she doesn’t look old, and I wonder if it possesses magic.
“Welcome. We are the high priestesses of this temple, acting as stewards of desire.” The woman with the diadem speaks, her voice a rich and gentle melody.
I raise a brow, then pull both in together, unsure I believe what she claims. Sirens are deadly, and their victims are their source of sustenance.
Now that we’re here, seeing how they’re dressed and the allure of the temple, this temple can be nothing other than a trap, just as the captain had said.
“You kill people who willingly enter this…” I sweep my arm in front of me. “Temple? Are temples not meant for worship?”
“We are not the same as our sisters in the sea. We have left behind that life, finding there is more than one way to feed.” She tilts her head to the side.
The corner of her lip turns up. “Besides, what is a siren’s song if not that which calls to a soul’s desires?
As stewards, we understand the spiritual nature of such a thing.
And so, we founded this temple, many ages ago, to challenge our patrons to connect with their deepest self and transcend what holds them back.
It is a place for souls to face their deepest desire—and not only those of a sexual nature.
There are those of the heart, Bryn of Eirdfall, and of the mind, Mikael of Saelithra. ”
The priestess holding the tray takes a step forward, extending it, offering us the drinks. “Consent to your own desires.”
Mikael and I share a look; we both know that we don’t truly have a choice.
When we don’t immediately react, she speaks again. “You are required to submit to yourself to proceed.”
We have to complete this trial. So, whatever it takes, I’ll do it.
I grab a glass and bring it to my lips, quickly downing the liquid in case it tastes terrible. But it doesn’t. It’s sweet and pure.
The third priestess, holding the staff, speaks. “When the moon crests the horizon, you will be brought into the main temple for your trial to begin. For now, my sister will escort you to your room.”
The woman who escorted us up the stairs motions for us to follow her. We take a winding path through the temple, down to the bottom layer. She turns to the left and walks toward a door with intricate carvings of a man and woman intimately wrapped in each other’s arms.
I groan. What is this? We have sex and get a piece of my soul back? If that’s the case, there are two willing parties, and I’d rather just get it over with.
“That is not the answer.” The woman’s lithe voice calls over her shoulder. “But that might make for a nice ending to what you are about to face.”
Mikael looks at me, and I make a face like I don’t know what she’s talking about. How did she know?
“Your thoughts are no longer hidden from us. The serum allows us access to your deepest desires so that we might guide you to discover what you try to hide.”
“What were you thinking about, Bryn?” Mikael smirks.
“Nothing.” I sulk.
He barks out a laugh. “I told you I’d give you what you want, but I have to know it’s really what you want.”
“Well, I guess you might find that out tonight.” I pass him and the priestess holding the door open, entering into the room.
The room is fit for royalty, with its high ceilings and four-poster bed, each corner adorned with sheer white curtains held back with ribbon.
Across from the bed is a sitting area and a fireplace that’s already lit, casting the room in a soft golden glow.
Directly opposite the main door, two doors are swung open wide to a balcony.
The priestess motions to the bed. “You must change into those clothes. It is required of all temple patrons.”
I hang up my cloak and walk to the bed, lifting the robe that’s laid out on the mattress. It’s the same type of material she’s wearing. “I’m not wearing this if there’s anyone else in the temple.”
When Mikael passes through the door, she speaks again.
“It is required. There is one for both of you. To be free is to bare yourself to others. All patrons and priestesses wear the same. There is no shame in how nature created our bodies. We are, after all, at our most pure when we aren’t hiding behind our choices: the clothes we wear and the weapons we carry, or what we choose not to wear.
All of which tell the story of who we are, who we try to be—or try not to be.
I’ll be back to collect you later.” She doesn’t linger, closing the door with her last word.
“I’m not wearing this,” I mumble in a huff, staring at the robe with contempt.
Whatever it takes. Whatever it takes.
“Why not?” Mikael takes a seat in one of the chairs next to the fireplace. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you in that.”
“You have one of your own.” I put mine down on the bed, pick his up, and throw it at him.