Chapter 24: Chapter 24

“You look really good, but Pierce is adjusting the ass area,” Mort says as she motions me to spin.

“What!?” I shriek. “I do not want this guy to hump my leg! My boobs are already hanging out, making me very uncomfortable.” I look at my ass, and it looks fine. What is Pierce trying to do, get me raped?!

“There is a method to Pierce’s madness. He does not tell me everything, you know. So sometimes I’m just as clueless as you are. I have just learned to trust him,” Mort says, and shrugs.

I close my eyes for a few seconds and then nod. “If I have to use a lifeline because of this, I will knee him in the balls.”

Mort laughs and snorts.

I start to spin and feel the material tighten in certain places, making me nervous. The golden fabric is a long evening gown like one would see in old Hollywood, but more medieval.

The dipping neckline is my biggest worry. My ass is now on display and my breasts are presented as if I am a work of art. And I can also feel that my hair is tamed and less frizzy.

Only Pierce.

I hear a knock on the door and Mort is gone in a flash. I run to grab my dark cloak and put it on before they open the door.

“Princess, Master Siron awaits your presence.”

I nod to the portly man and follow him through more hallways until we finally reach a large dining hall.

The dining corridor is cold and barren—metal everywhere with sharp lines and yellow flickering lights running along the floor. It isn’t ugly, quite the opposite, but it is extremely intimidating.

This ship is very scary from the outside, but very spacelike on the inside. Strange.

A long, steel table gleams in the middle of the room with two placements on one end. A server comes out carrying what I assume is a bottle of red wine.

He motions for me to take a seat just as the door opens again and Siron steps in, making me freeze. He has a black cane that he’s putting most of his weight on.

He shoos away the server, and in moments we are the only ones left in the room. He looks impeccable in black finery, wearing a more elegant mask.

I wonder why he wears a mask. Maybe he is badly scarred from battle.

His shoulders pull tightly on the sharp black dinner coat. I can see his dark hair combed back nicely and I cannot deny the man is gifted in the looks department.

That is all I will say about that. He probably has an ego the size of this ship and a black heart to fill his large body.

I realize I am just standing here staring at him like a lunatic.

He takes a hand out of his pocket and pulls out a chair for me. I shiver, not wanting to move closer to him. But nothing is worse than showing your fear in front of a man, so I raise my chin and walk toward him.

I go to sit down but feel his hand as he stops me. It rests on my shoulders, pulling off the large overcoat.

I tense, having forgotten that I was wearing the damn thing. Double damn. I feel the coat slide off, and I do not make eye contact but quickly sit down, ignoring my wild pulse.

Siron sits to my left, and I stare straight ahead, biting my lip. He leans his cane against the table and sits back in his chair. I need a strategy, but my brain isn’t working at the speed I need it to.

I feel him watching me, but I will not look. He moves, leaning over to pour me a tall glass of red wine, the sound filling the quiet room. ~Fine.~

I reach for it and down the entire glass, not caring how I come across. My situation can’t get any worse, so I might as well feel less tense about it.

I place the glass down on the table, resisting a cringe over the bitterness, and glance at him. I see his lips form a slight grin as he leans over to refill my glass, never taking his gaze from me.

I can feel the wine pooling in my empty belly and coursing its way through my body. I relax and feel a tad less afraid.

Siron takes out a notepad and starts writing. He glances back up at me and shows me his form of speech. ~Don’t be so scared of me, little dancer. Relax.~

I huff. “Have you seen yourself?” The wine is making me very toasty and brave. “You are very…intimidating.”

He nods and writes again. ~Apollo is also a large man, yet you want him?~

Just the mere mention of Apollo makes my gut tighten.

“Apollo is an honorable man, much different. You have a very dark reputation. You ruin women’s lives by kidnapping them or buying them like objects. It’s disgusting.”

~Careful, Viola.~

Siron tilts his head at me and smiles, displaying white, even teeth. He looks down then leans over to drink his wine in one gulp. He writes in a messy, almost angry scribble.

~Can’t argue with that. By the way, you are breathtaking. I knew that color would make you look like a queen. I want you to dance for me again.~

I bite my lip and narrow my eyes at him. “You’re punishing me for being ungrateful? I am sorry.” I pause as I take a nervous breath. “I have a temper.”

I hear a breathy laugh and I shiver, unable to stop it. I am not sure what I’m reacting to besides the obvious.

I mean, he looks like a sexy Zorro on steroids, I’ll give him that, but he is an evil creature that makes my skin crawl.

He writes again and slides the paper to me, his glittering gaze watching me. ~I like your fire, but I’d like to taste it instead of witness it.~

I swallow, not sure what to say to that. I need to turn the tables fast or he will have me for dessert. “Why can’t you talk?”

He seems shocked, then leans back in his chair and studies me before writing. Siron slides me the paper as I lean in to see.

~A curious thing you are. I cannot speak because my voice box was damaged in battle. And I wear a mask because I wish to keep my identity a mystery. It has kept me safe thus far, my little dancer.~

~Now, where were we?~

I try and ignore his sexual energy, mentally kicking myself. “Have you ever thought about seeing a healer?” I feel there is more he is not telling me as I glance at his cane.

He shrugs.

I pick my words carefully. “I wanted Eltson to win my bid because I wanted to meet the great healer there. Merva the Great. I thought perhaps he could heal Apollo, before you won the bid.

“Maybe you also would like to seek him out?” I slightly glance up at him to gauge his reaction.

He leans forward and starts writing, glancing up at me then continuing. After a few seconds, he pushes the paper to me. ~Do you love him? Because if you do, I might have to kill him.~

I gasp. My heart is pounding, not expecting that reaction.

He is writing again, then finally slides the paper to me. ~I can see the way you react to me, little dancer. I am very observant. Even if you want to deny it.~

~Your snake eyes dilate when you look at me, and I can hear your pulse hammering against your smooth skin. I know what would happen if I were to touch you.~

As if on cue, my heart rate heightens, and my cheeks flush. I am so angry that I want to scratch his eyes out. “May I leave?” I whisper harshly.

Just then, the door opens, and I am being served food. I am not hungry, and the thought of this man thinking I am attracted to him beyond the physical is insane.

He probably thinks every woman has this reaction to him, and it makes me sick. I look at my plate, covered in steak and veggies. It smells good, but I am so angry that it’s making my stomach feel nauseous.

Siron motions for me to eat.

I stare back at him.

He writes, then slides the paper to me, his gaze hard on me. ~Eat or I will feed you the food myself.~

Do people flip each other off here? My middle finger is twitching, but I tap down the insane urge and pick up my fork, stabbing broccoli. I take a bite, then glare up at him.

He is watching my mouth, and a slight smile pulls at his perfect lips. He is writing again with a smirk on his face. ~I want to see your eyes when I feed you. I am curious.~

I swallow with a frown. ~Excuse me?~

He cuts a piece of steak and scoots his chair back, making me alarmed. I immediately go into panic mode when he slides his chair closer to me and pulls my chair toward him with his foot.

Now I am right in front of him, practically in between his legs. I can’t breathe, and he leans forward, giving me a very close view of him.

I can’t help but notice that he smells clean and wild.

He quickly grabs the notepad with his free hand and scribbles on it. ~Open your mouth.~

I barely open my mouth, and his gaze seems to light on fire. This man’s intensity is scaring me on so many levels.

He grins as he puts the steak to my lips and nudges my mouth wider, slightly rubbing the salty meat over my lips before giving it to me. He sits back and watches me with those black eyes.

Why do I feel violated?

“What are you trying to prove?” I hiss. I need him to back up and give me space; being this close to him is making me mental.

“I think it’s safe to say you unsettle me. Probably like most people when they are around you.”

Siron just watches me like he can see something most can’t. I don’t like that. I am not even sure what he is at this point.

He sits up, bringing his large body even closer, and grabs his pad to start writing. He pauses and glances at me, his gaze moving over my body then to my legs in between his muscular thighs.

~Just breathe~, I tell myself.

He starts writing again and hands it to me. I take it with shaking hands and I see that it does not go unnoticed. Seems like nothing goes unnoticed by this guy.

~You enjoy your meal. Your eyes are very telling, my dancer, and I got the answer I was seeking. I will bid you a good night.~

I frown up at him as he watches me read the note.

Siron laughs, the sound breathy, tilting his head slightly.

I grit my teeth and ignore how his mouth looks when he smiles. ~Stop it~.

He grabs my hand and brings it to his mouth, his hot lips lingering on my skin as he closes his eyes. I am tense and bite my lip, watching him breathe in my skin like I am some sort of goddess.

I am not sure how to process this man. He suddenly stands and leans down over me to reach for the notepad to scribble on it before he turns to leave with his cane.

I am so confused.

After he leaves, I just sit here in silence, trying to process my emotions. I glance over to the note that he left and read it.

~Don’t look so sad to see me leave. Enjoy yourself.~

He’s joking, right?!

Does he think I am pining for him? I sit there in silent fury. That man is a mind ninja. Or he is completely delusional.

What did he see in my eyes? Anger? Did he mistake that for lust or longing? I sure hope not.

I’m probably not going to sleep very well tonight.

***

“Tell me what’s bugging you, human.”

I get dressed in some medieval-looking gown that is chocolate brown and cream lace. Quite pretty actually.

The corset is a little tight for my boobs, but it fits well enough that Pierce does not have to adjust it. I start braiding my hair in thought.

Siron got a lucky guess on my size, or his last prisoner was my size. I wonder how many women wore this dress before me. I can already feel my anger boiling.

“Human?”

I glance at her. “Sorry, this Siron guy is on my last nerve.”

Mort nods. “He has me very curious as well. I think he is very sick. I heard some crew members saying he was involved with a witch. When he broke up with her, she cursed him with a deadly virus.”

I frown. “Really?” I think about that. “I can actually see that happening. He’s kind of a playboy.”

“Yes, he is a very attractive human like Apollo.”

I shoot her a glance. “Do not compare him to Apollo.”

She laughs and holds up her hands. “Okay, calm down. I think Black Siron is seeking out the healer. Pierce thinks he is going to hold Eltson hostage in return for healing power.”

“That’s perfect,” I say. “So how are we going to get the healer back to Apollo?” A thought occurs to me—I have not asked about his health today. “How is Apollo?”

Mort sighs. “The same. Pierce has gotten clearance to pay the healer what he asks for. Probably virgin blood and unicorns’ horns.”

I nod. “We can do this, Mort. We can save him.”

“Damn right we will.”

I walk out onto the main deck and spend a few hours soaking up the sun. No one bothers me, and I am assuming it’s on orders from the Black Siron.

There are men fishing, and I can’t help but be intrigued by their devices. Maybe it’s boredom, but I want to try it for myself.

I walk up to a large man who looks like he has a bow, but it’s attached to other nets and metal contraptions. “Is it easy?”

He pauses and turns to look at me. His red beard and blue eyes remind of a Scottish highlander. I see his eyes glance up to the upper decks, probably searching for the warden. ~Eye roll.~

“Lass, if you catch a fish, I will be the one dancing for you.”

I hear a few snickers behind me and a smile. “Deal.”

He glances up again and shrugs. “If you’re here, might as well put you to work. We have a lot of mouths to feed in this crew, so get to work, lassie.”

He winks at me and hands me his large fishing contraption that smells like dead fish. Strange. The Scottish men in this world talk the same as on Earth. Parallel universes, mirroring each other.

“I am bored to tears. I will be delighted.”

The next hour consists of me ~not~ catching any fish whatsoever. This is hard, not like shooting arrows at all. I let out a grunt of frustration and stomp my foot.

I blame my bad attitude on my inability to have patience. I could in no way defuse a bomb. I’d get pissed and end up headbutting the bomb and blowing my own head off.

I try again and hear laughs when I shoot the hook only for it to pitifully slosh in the black sea waters. “Are you kidding me?”

The laughter dies, and I hear someone approaching. I curse because I know what that sound is—a ~cane.~ I don’t turn around. Instead, I try again. What’s he going to do? Throw me overboard?

I pause. He totally could. I lower my fishing bow and turn around to stare at his imposing figure.

I suck in a little breath, only because I have never seen him in this state of undress, and in the general sense, like any female, it gives me a slight pause.

Less than a slight pause— we are talking about a split second in time.

I can still only see his mouth, but he has a billowy, unbuttoned black shirt on, exposing his golden chest. I huff— of course he is super ripped. With an ego like that, it’s a must.

I wonder if he wears a mask because he thinks he is ugly— save for his mouth, that is. That’s kind of sad. God-like body and a pizza face? A true crime, if you ask me.

He tilts his head at me, reminding me that I am just staring at him like I’m struck by how hot he is. ~Please, don’t flatter yourself, Zorro.~ “Does the Black Siron need anything from me?”

That’s PG.

~Only~ PG.

He nods to my fishing rod and flicks his hand to keep doing what I was doing. It’s hard to tell with his bulky mask, but I think I see amusement in his gaze.

Huh, so the evil bastard has a sense of humor. How sweet.

I huff again and try to catch a fish, and fail yet again. The salty wind is antagonizing me, taunting me into breaking this shitty fishing device over my knee.

I grit my teeth and raise the bow again, and that’s when I feel him behind me. I freeze.

I feel his arm come around me and guide my arms into a different position ever-so-gently. Then I feel his hands low on my hips, applying pressure to make me change my footing.

My heart is pounding, and I can feel his breath on my neck as he points to a metal latch.

I don’t understand, so he leans into me to reach for the latch and flips it, causing it to lock. My eyes widen. No wonder I didn’t have any power. A surge of adrenaline pounds through me, and I retake aim.

He comes to stand next to me and points at the waves and looks back at me. He is motioning me to ~wait~. He then points to the sky then back down to the waves, telling me to look…closer?

“You want me to look closer?”

He tilts his head like, ~kind of.~ He makes a fish movement with his hand and points to the waves, then the sky. Then shakes his head no, ~not good~.

“What?” I ask, getting frustrated. “No fish now?”

He nods ~yes~ with a grin.

I fight a grin as well—him demonstrating a fish was only slightly humorous.

He motions for me to shoot anyway with a shrug. I take a breath again and aim when I see him move to stand next to me, touching my hips again.

I adjust my footing as my pulse starts hammering in my neck like an ax murderer trying to break through the door. Siron points to the latch I almost forgot about, and I flip it, giving me power.

I am an expert on aim, that being one of my Fairy Godmother traits. I target the waves. The shot pierces through the water like a bullet.

I scream and jump up and down like I am twelve with Taylor Swift tickets. I immediately stop, and I can feel my face redden as I notice eyes on me. Awesome.

But I glance over at Siron to see him smiling with the big redheaded brute.

“Siron, never did I see anyone get that excited over catching fish,” the man bellows. “Maybe you should show her some more chores to do! She is very easily excitable.” He winks at Siron.

I roll my eyes and toss the fishing bow at the red-haired man. “Thanks for ~NOT~ showing me the latch on the bow.”

Siron signs to the man, and he nods, running off before I can punch him in the face. I glance back to the dark pirate and watch him pull a notepad out. So, he keeps one handy in case he must talk to me.

Siron leans his cane on a pole then starts to write, the wind making his shirt billow out. ~Just an observation~. He looks up at me and shows me the note.

~Tomorrow I can show you how to ensnare a big catch at the right time. I will not join you for dinner this eve. I have much to prepare for, and I am needed.~

I read it and nod. So I will not be in this leech’s presence tonight. Perfect, Heaven sent.

“You don’t have to trouble yourself on my account, I can get someone else to show me. I might as well be useful around here.”

He walks up to me, and I tense. Siron shakes his head ~no~ and starts writing again, faster this time. He shows me the note.

~I will be the only one to show you, little dancer. I will not have my men distracted by your innocent charms. Clear?~

I can sense his negative energy. He is very serious. “Clear.”

He takes a bow in front of me, and his eyes slowly slide over my body before he leaves with his cane. I shiver, feeling like he touched me, when clearly, he didn’t.

I have a feeling I will not sleep well tonight—again.