Chapter 9: Chapter 9: Out of Time

I wake up early. The room is dark and there is only a hint of light in the distant skyline. But the creature inside me is raging. She’s screaming in my head. She wants out. She wants to be free to roam.

She wants to find King Helos and decide one way or another if he is her friend or foe.

I pace the room, trying to get control, trying to force her submission. I can feel her scratching at my insides, piercing my skin, desperate to be free.

She’s been trapped for so long that she was dormant. And now her newfound freedom, her newfound revival has given her a taste of everything she’s been missing. And she wants more. Much more.

I can feel her begging me, pleading to let her out, but I can’t do it. It will be my ruin. My complete and utter destruction, and though I try to reason with her, to explain she wants none of it, she doesn’t care for reason.

She is a creature of pleasure, a child of the moment. She doesn’t care for consequences, just the hedonistic delights of her own desires in each given moment.

I force myself into the bathroom and fill the bath. The water is cold, freezing, and it helps to soothe, but there is no salt left, and as I shiver in the freezing tub, I wish I had asked for some.

I shove my head under, submerging myself. I breathe in the water, letting it fill my lungs, then breathe it out slowly as if I am meditating with it, and in a way, I think I am.

I don’t know how long I am under, but it feels like hours. The light has changed in the room. The sun is up. And the creature in me is finally at peace—or as close to it as she can get.

I pull myself out and the water rushes off me, splashing onto the floor, covering the bathroom.

I get out, spilling more, but a part of me doesn’t care. He knows what I am, so there is no need to hide the smaller signs, right?

I grab a towel, dry my skin, and wrap a robe around me. My hair is wet. I bend over so that my head hangs upside down and shut my eyes as I towel dry it.

When I walk into the bedroom, the maid is already there. She’s laying out dresses as if I am allowed to choose. She turns as she hears my footsteps and then her eyes widen in shock and she screams.

The guards rush in and I step back, blindsided by what is suddenly happening. The maid points at me and I frown before seeing my reflection in the mirror.

And then I understand.

My heart sinks as I see it. My hair is no longer brown. The dye is all gone. My natural hair is there for everyone to see. I shut my eyes, stepping further away, and the guards assess me for a moment before quietly disappearing.

I run into the bathroom, wanting to hide, wanting to lock the door. Lock everyone out because now they will know. Everyone will know. There is no hiding it. There is no escaping it.

The invisible timer above my head has just run out of sand.

From today, the world will know that another siren exists and I will never be safe again.

The maid taps on the door and I freeze.

“You have to get dressed,” she says as calmly as she can, but I can feel her curiosity and her wonder through the wood.

I shake my head, but she cannot see it. I move quickly, locking the door, locking her out. I can’t do this. I won’t do this. Helos will have to drag me from this place if he wants me to leave.

I pace the room, my feet pattering against the wet tiles. My heart is thumping so loud I’m afraid it might explode. Perhaps this is the reason the creature was so strong. Perhaps she already knew; she could sense it.

I’m starting to hyperventilate. My breath is coming so fast and yet I can’t breathe. I can’t focus. Everything is collapsing in on me and I’m fighting back the tears.

No one has seen me as me in five years. No one has seen my hair; even I haven’t. I’ve hidden away, locked myself away for so long I don’t know how to even be me.

I can’t hear the maid anymore and I wonder if she has gone. Perhaps I have scared her off. Part of me hopes so.

But then I hear footsteps. Lots of them. They’re filling up the room beyond and I can hear the murmur of voices. My breath catches in my throat again and I fight down the wail inside me.

I listen, but there is nothing now. Silence. It’s as if they have gone, though I can sense their presence still there. I can feel their energy.

The bathroom is small. There is nowhere to hide. I know they will come in. They’re going to break the door. I huddle down in the corner, hiding between a cabinet and the wall.

They’re banging at the door. I cover my ears as the sound echoes off the cold tiles. They’re shoving their bodies against it, ramming into it.

Suddenly, the door bursts from its hinges and I cry before I can stop myself. I know who is there. I can feel him, his aura, his energy. It’s so much stronger, more powerful than all the others around him.

I push myself into the wall, wishing I could sink into it. Disappear. Be forgotten.

“Kera,” he says quietly and I whimper. Though my hands are covering my mouth, the noise escapes.

If he commands me, if he orders me, I will be helpless against him. He is too powerful, too strong to resist in my current state, and deep down, I know he knows it too.

“Come out,” he says gently but I don’t.

I stay where I am. Hidden. Safe.

“Kera,” he says louder and I grit my teeth, steeling myself as the effects of my name from his lips sends me closer to despair.

“Come out now,” he orders, and I whimper again even as my body moves, even as I respond to his demand.

I creep out, my legs shaking, but I step out from my hiding place and my hair falls down around me, so long and pure. Shockingly pale blue.

His eyes widen as he takes me in. I know I am a sight, but even I blush under his gaze. He is staring at me, and I realize I am still dressed in just a robe.

I meet his eyes, and I can see them glowing with something so close to desire that my mouth dries, but I find my voice anyway.

“Please don’t make me go,” I say in barely more than a whisper.

He shakes his head. “You are coming whether you like it or not,” he states, and I step back, away from him, away from the guards behind him who are peering in as if I am some kind of celestial being.

He steps forward, closing the distance between us. He grabs my arms, and I cry out. I don’t want him to touch me. I don’t want anyone even near me right now.

“Please,” I plead. I have no reason to think he will listen, but I’m desperately hoping he will.

Helos sighs, turning to dismiss everyone in the room behind us, and they shuffle out of the doorway and out of the room beyond.

His hands are still gripping my arms, holding me so close to him. He whispers something incomprehensible, and I frown.

“We all have our parts to play,” he says.

“What does that mean?” I ask.

“It means that sometimes you have to do things you do not want.”

I narrow my eyes and try to pull away. How dare he say these things to me after everything I have been through. Does he think I am so naive?

“Come,” he says, and I shake my head.

My eyes are filling with tears, but I don’t want to cry. I don’t want to show any weakness.

“What is it you fear?” he asks.

“What do you think?” I snap back. “Look at me.”

I finally yank my arms free of his grasp, and I stumble backward, my body colliding with the wall, but I am grateful for it. It helps hold me up, stabilize me, and prevents me from collapsing at this king’s feet.

“I have hidden for so long and now…” I shut my eyes as my voice falters.

“Now you are done hiding. It is time to come out of the shadows,” he states.

I scowl at him. What does he know of it? How can he possibly understand? He is a king. He has more power than almost every other being in this world.

He does not know what it is to be subjugated, to be used, to be hunted down, and abused for other people’s pleasure.

He grabs me again. He is clearly done being gentle and he pulls me back into the bedroom where the maid is waiting.

“Get her ready,” Helos orders, and he leaves, shutting the door.

I let the maid dress me. She disrobes me and pulls a dress down over my head as the tears fall hot on my cheeks.

I cannot stop this. I am on a runaway horse without the reins, I am freefalling, descending fast into chaos.

The maid does the dress up, and I am ready, presentable. It is more covering than the ones Issar has put me in.

It goes up to my neck, covering my arms with sleeves, and feels almost frumpy, though the wanton curves of my body cannot be concealed by mere fabric alone. I am relieved by it, though.

That at least I have some dignity in all this, that I am not being paraded practically naked for everyone to drool over this time.

The maid opens the door because she knows I won’t do it, and the guards turn, the astonishment still evident on their faces. There is nothing else I can do now but step out and face it.

The guards march me out and then I’m there in front of everyone. All the soldiers, all the servants. Gasps echo through the crowd, and I shut my eyes as they stare at me. I can feel their emotions, their lust, their want, all of it.

Every one of these people is a threat to me. Every one of them would seek to use me for what I alone can give them, their own pleasure, their own need.

I am a toy to them, something to possess, something to enjoy. And in fairness, part of it is what I am, what my species is.

We were designed by the gods for one purpose: to give pleasure, to allow man to pursue their most hedonistic desires, unhindered, uninhibited, in perfect unimaginable joy.

In my purest form, I am a trap, a curse. The pleasure I can give is so great nothing will ever compare to it, nothing will ever match it.

I am a drug. I am the most addictive high they would ever experience, but the price of this ecstasy is their mind. Their sanity.

Because to taste me, to have me like that will drive them mad. They will forget their name, forget themselves, forget everything but me. They will drown in me and in the darkest depths of desire there is no turning back.

In the days of the gods, we had no minds of our own. Our only focus was our pleasure too, and we sought to seduce men, to pull them from their ships, to beguile them to fulfill our needs too.

Only my species has changed, evolved, and now we are more than that, more than just our sex, our desires. We have minds. We are sentient beings, though none of these people see it.

No one sees it. They don’t want to see it. They want to believe that I am as desperate for pleasure as desiring of it they are.

King Helos walks up to me. I open my eyes and his are boring into me. He looks like he cares, but I know deep down he doesn’t.

He has done this; he has paraded me for them all to see. Just as Issar would do. Just as any of them would. He has a siren in his grasp and he wants the entire world to know it.

He beckons me toward the carriage and I want to hit him, to show that I am not his creature, his thing, but I don’t dare. I follow and a part of me welcomes the privacy as he shuts the door and the world out.

Only he sits across from me. He isn’t letting me take this journey alone. It’s like he won’t let me out of his sight now. I fold my arms, scowling, and stare out through the gap between the blind and the window.

We sit in silence and it hangs around us both. Festering. I can hear his breathing. It is soft, slow.

He takes in a breath and then slowly breathes it out as if he is afraid to take in the same air as me. As if I might have somehow poisoned it.

“You are angry with me,” he says after what feels like hours of tortuous silence, though in truth, it couldn’t have been more than thirty minutes.

I look across at him and glare.

“Speak to me, Kera,” he says softly and I grit my teeth.

“Stop saying that. Stop saying my name,” I reply.

His lips curl at the edges as if I have divulged some great secret.

“What is it about me speaking your name that you don’t like?” he asks.

I don’t answer and he says it again. Louder. “Kera.”

I hiss. My fists are clenched so tight that my nails are almost impaling my palms.

“You have done this. All of this,” I state.

“Done what?” he asks as if he is innocent. As if he doesn’t know.

“You know what. You have dragged me out, paraded me for them all to see,” I snap.

“I hardly dragged you. You walked of your own volition,” he says almost nonchalantly.

“You don’t even realize what you have done, do you?” I retort.

“Tell me then.”

“Every one of those people is a danger to me,” I cry. “They only see me for what I can give them. I am a plaything to them, a plaything to you all, and the only way it will end is when I am dead.”

“No one will hurt you, Kera. No one will touch you. They are under my orders.”

“You think you have the power to override their desires? That you can control them? That you have that much authority, King?” I ask, half-spitting his title, and his eyes turn thunderous for a moment.

“My power has the same effect on them as it does on you. I command them just as I command you,” he states.

I know then that he can feel it, the effect he has on me. The draw that his masculinity, his strength, and all of it has on my body.

“What do you want from me?” I whisper.

“I answered that yesterday,” he says and I frown.

How was it only yesterday that I had that bath? How was it only last evening? It feels like an eternity ago.

I stare back out through the gap by the window, seeing all the soldiers surrounding us. Clearly, Helos is taking no chances with me.

For a moment, I wonder where Issar is. Does he know I am gone yet? He’ll be raging when he finds out, furious, and I wonder if even this king will be able to stop him from getting me back.

“You are more human-like than I imagined,” he murmurs.

I look back at him. “What does that mean?” I ask.

He shrugs. “I expected you to be less sentient and more carnal.”

I scowl, knowing exactly what he is inferring. “Just because I was created for pleasure does not mean that is all I am. I am a person too. I have feelings. I am capable of more than just sex.”

He smirks. “Your behavior the other day suggests otherwise,” he replies.

“What…” I ask and then I feel myself blushing.

He means the carriage, the other carriage. When I touched myself. When I climaxed with him right there beside me.

He doesn’t understand why I did it. I can see it on his face. I won’t explain it to him. I don’t want him to know.

There are parts of myself I wish to keep secret and I certainly have no intention of telling this king of all people how my body works.

“You think I’m a whore. A desire of the flesh. That’s what you called me,” I say.

He nods. “Are you not?” he asks, running his eyes over me.

I gulp because something about the way he looks at me makes me want him to do it more.

I can feel the creature inside me. She’s observing him, watching him; he has her curiosity and I don’t know how to shut out her thoughts from my head.

“I am more than that. More than what you all think,” I say quietly, and I look away again. I want to be alone. To wallow. To lament.

***

The carriage comes to a stop. We’ve been sitting in silence for hours now. Neither of us is talking. I’ve been staring out through the gap in the curtain all this time while he has been watching me.

His gaze has been relentless, but there is nothing I can do to stop it; he is a king. He can look where he likes, do what he likes.

I shudder as I realize we are here at his castle, and I know within hours he will be seeking me out. Claiming me, no doubt. He says he is undecided, but we both know that is a lie.

I can see it in his face, in his eyes, how much he wants me. He is like everyone else. He is dying to know what it feels like, dying to have even just a taste of the delights I can offer.

“It’s time,” Helos says, breaking through my thoughts.

I jump before turning to look at him. The carriage door is open. Beyond it, I can make out the mass of soldiers lining the path ahead.

A carpet has been laid out for the king, and from the noise, it sounds like half the city is here to welcome him.

He holds his hand out, and I stare at it. I don’t want to touch him. I don’t want to feel the sensation of his skin against mine.

“Kera,” he says quietly, softly.

And I feel it then, the thrill, the desire within myself. The creature likes the way this man says our name. She likes the way he calls us.

She is deciding she wants him, and now I will have to fight even harder to keep her under control.

A man appears at the door. He must think something is wrong because we have both been here in this space with the door open too long to be normal.

He gasps when he sees me and it wakes me out of my stupor. Helos doesn’t notice him. His focus is on me and I can tell he will stand here waiting all day if that’s what it takes for me to submit.

I reach out my hand and give in. My fingers slide under his sleeve and across the soft skin of his forearm as his wrap around my wrist. His hand is big. It engulfs me.

And I fight back the thought of what these hands might do to me later.

He pulls me from the carriage after him and I want to shy away, hide within the thick fur of his cloak. Everyone is looking.

I can see the surprise and shock in their eyes as they take me in, but I see something else too mingled in it.

I can feel it in the air. Both Helos and I can.

Lust.

An aching desire for me.

It radiates off these people. I try not to breathe, but it fills me anyway and I want to choke, to spit it out, but Helos holds me and I am forced to walk slowly beside him, past all their faces, all their stares.

I keep my eyes downcast. I don’t want to see it. I don’t want to see any of them.

We climb the steps, lined with the same thick carpet, and as we ascend into the depths of the castle, the crowd erupts as if they have fallen out of their trance.

My heart is thumping so loudly that I swear Helos can hear it echoing off the stone walls around us. He lets me go and my six guards are back, waiting.

Helos nods to them and they escort me away while he stands there, watching, unmoving.

I’m afraid of where they’re taking me. Issar had me locked in a dungeon, and in my panicked state, I think Helos will do the same. But that’s not where the guards lead me.

Instead of down the stairs, they lead me up high into the castle and through a series of corridors and rooms so confusing I have no idea how we even got where we are.

We stop outside double doors. They’re made of solid gold and are so high I could stand three of me on my head and not reach the top.

Two guards are blocking the way, and after a moment of muttering, they move aside and we pass through. I wonder if this is a vault. If he is literally locking me away with all his gold and other treasures.

The guards nudge me on and we walk through. These new halls feel grander but not so different from the ones behind. We stop again. This time, outside an intricately carved wooden door.

The guards unlock it and I am pushed inside before the door slams behind me and the key turns.

I gasp, trying the handle, though, in truth, I don’t really want to escape. It feels like a reflex and the door doesn’t budge.

I am locked in.

Trapped.

Imprisoned in this new space.