When the feast is finally over, he carries me over his shoulder out of the hall, much to the applause of all the drunken men around us.
I struggle against him, but he doesnât even notice, and he carries me up into the darkness, and within minutes, heâs thrown me onto the bed in my room.
I scoot away, using the bedrest to protect my back, and watch him as he undoes his robe and then stokes the fire.
The remnants of my former clothes are long gone now. The room is cold, but I can feel the heat almost immediately as he throws another log on.
He turns, watching me, and then, one by one, he removes his clothes and boots.
I shut my eyes.
We both know what is coming.
What this man wants again.
He climbs onto the bed, and I move away quickly. He grabs my hair, yanking me back by it as I scream out, and then he yanks my body to lie beside him.
Iâm still wearing the awful dress he made me wear, but it feels like Iâm as good as naked, and he runs his fingers along my skin, clearly savoring the feel of his rancid touch against me.
âI know you fucked him,â he says quietly after minutes of his slow torture.
âWho?â I reply in barely more than a whisper.
âKing Helos,â he states.
I shut my eyes.
I donât want to think of him, of what we were, especially not with this man naked beside me.
His body is so strong, his muscles, his prowess alone should make him attractive, irresistible even, but all of it is marred by the ugliness of his soul.
Even if he had the face of an angel, this man would still be the monster he is on the inside.
âDid you reveal yourself to him?â he asks.
I screw my face up. âWhat are you talking about?â I snap.
âYour true self. Did you let him enjoy you as you really are?â
I narrow my eyes. âFuck. You,â I say.
His eyes flash with anger. He grabs my face painfully in his hand, turning it to face him.
âI know youâre not an idiot, so let me make this very clear. If you stop fighting, if you give me what I want, then I wonât hurt you further. We can both enjoy our time together.â
âYou think I would agree to that?â I hiss.
âWhat choice do you have, siren? Do you want to suffer? Do you want me to inflict more pain on you than I did last time?â
I pull my face from his grasp, feeling as his nails scrape against my skin.
âI donât care what you do to me. I will never give you what you want,â I state.
âThen I will break you. I will strip you down until there is nothing left except the parts of you I want.â
I gulp.
I know heâs capable of it, and I also know that no matter how much I pray, nothing will save me from it.
But I canât give him this. I wonât give him this. I refuse.
âDo what you want. It wonât make any difference,â I retort, though the fearâs rising in me, and my body is already trembling.
His eyes flash with more anger, and he pounces.
He rips the dress off me as I claw at him. His arms pin mine down, and I cry out, trying to throw his body off mine.
âI hate you,â I scream as his lips crash into mine, and his disgusting tongue forces its way in.
His one hand holds both of mine, and he pins them above my head, while his other gropes at me, squeezing, pinching, assaulting the softness of my breasts.
I flinch, but his body holds me down, and his weight crushes me with agonizing tyranny.
I can feel his dick hard against me, and just the smell of his arousal makes me close to vomiting.
âGive me what I want,â he growls.
I shake my head. I wonât do it. I canât. I can feel the creature inside me. Sheâs furious, sheâs raging as much as me. She doesnât want this man. She doesnât want this moment. She wants nothing from him.
He pushes my legs apart even as I try to keep them together. Heâs too strong, too domineering, and thereâs nothing I can do to stop this.
He rams himself into me, and I scream.
Iâm so dry, so utterly not turned on by this that it feels like his dick is tearing me with every thrust and, in truth, he probably is.
He groans as if heâs enjoying it, and he starts pounding into my body as I shut my eyes tight and bury my face into the sheets.
And all the while, he keeps calling to her, to the creature inside me, to the one he wants, not me, not my body, but just the pleasure I alone can give him.
When heâs finally done, he rolls off me, and I canât even move. I canât even roll away from him. I feel so disgusting, so dirty, so utterly grotesque.
***
He fucks me again during the night and then before he leaves the next day. My body feels numb, but my mind refuses to give in.
I refuse to give in.
And then an awful realization comes to me. I havenât drunk or consumed any water in days.
I havenât had a bath.
I havenât had any form of release.
Despite his assaults, my body has had no pleasure.
Iâm so dangerously close to falling into a state where I will lose all control, where we both will.
Where the creature will take over, whether she wants to or not, and her insatiable lust will drive her to seek pleasure, no matter who the other party is, no matter what the consequences are.
I shudder at the thought, because if Issar finds me like this, then he will win, whether I want him to or not.
I have to do something. I have to stop this.
I rush to the bathroom, shutting the door. The taps on the bath wonât work, as if someone has turned them off, and I wonder if this is his doing, if he understands enough about my kind to know what he is creating.
I turn the taps on in the sink, and a small trickle pours out. I cup it in my hands, drinking as much as I can, and then slap my skin with it. It barely touches the side of what I need, but at least my mouth is not as dry.
The creature whispers our other option and I snarl.
I donât want to do it.
Not here, not now, not with so much risk, but we both know without a bath, without any other form of release, there isnât really a choice.
I shut my eyes, cursing the gods for what they made me, and I pray that I have this moment of privacy, that I can do this alone, that I can somehow get through this without the maid, or worse, Issar walking in.
I move my hand down to between my thighs. I donât feel even the slightest bit aroused and Iâm so dry that it feels pointless. I sigh, trying to force myself, trying to force the creature too.
She begins whispering into my head, whispering words about Helos, about how it felt when he touched me, when he kissed me, when we swam in the sea, and when I sang so quietly in his ear.
I gasp as the tears fall down my face.
It feels like a knife is being driven through me because he is gone, and I donât think I will ever see him again.
My fingers are still working away, my body is humming despite the deep desperation, and I let the creature out, let her take control because I am too heartbroken to manage even this.
She moans, stretching inside me.
She knows what we need, and despite everything that has happened, she is more than happy to satisfy our needs.
She plunges my fingers into me, curling them over and over, as my thumb manipulates my clit. Iâm close now, really close.
I can feel the heat rising in my core, my heart racing as my body prepares for its inevitable conclusion.
I can smell my arousal; it hangs in the air, and as I gasp out a sob, I feel my body shake, and the climax takes over.
I fall onto my knees.
My body feels almost too weak to do even this, but the creature is in control, and she knows what must be done to ensure our survival.
She keeps going, keeps playing, and I gasp out my bitter orgasm into the cold, dark space around me.
When I am done, I stay where I am. My tears are still running down my face, and Iâm hunched over, waiting for my heart rate to drop.
I donât want to move. I want to wait here, in the dark, for however long it takes for Helos to come rescue me, though a voice deep in my head is already saying that day wonât come.
I hear the main door open, and then the bathroom door, and Issar is there, staring at me with his monstrous eyes.
Iâm still on my knees, still naked, and I look up at him, and he narrows his eyes before taking a long, deep breath.
I gulp.
I can smell it still. He can smell it tooâI can see it in his face.
He curses like he understands what has happened, and he grabs me by my hair and throws me into the bathtub.
And I lie there, trembling, knowing that heâs going to punish me now. Heâs going to make it hurt.