Once a Myth

I was naked.

Well and truly stripped to my barest of forms, and my hatred reached a whole new level. I was tired, jet-lagged, strung out, and in pain. I missed Scott, my parents, and my carefree, untouched life. To be told that I’d been reduced to a whore—worse than a whore—an unpaid sexual slave…yeah, I reached my shaky threshold.

“I will never fuck you. You’ll have to kill me.”

He laughed under his breath, rich and deep. “Who said anything about fucking me?” His eyebrows shaded icy blue eyes. “I’m the proprietor of this paradise. You work for me to entertain my high-paying guests.” He stood, moving slowly around his desk toward me.

I wished I hadn’t taken off my knee-high socks in the helicopter. I could’ve used one to strangle him.

“My clients range from young to old, handsome to obese, generous to monstrous. They all come here for one purpose.” He stopped within touching distance but kept his hands to himself. “That purpose is to fuck. To let their darker desires come out to play. To do things to you that they would never do to their wives.”

I hid my shudder. “Why don’t they pay someone, like normal people?”

“Pay?” His eyebrow shot up. “Oh, they do pay. They pay me very well indeed.”

“I mean, why don’t they just hire a prostitute? A woman who actually gets to keep what she earns and not someone like you who buys unwilling trafficked women.”

He laughed. The sound rolled like thunder with a hint of rain. “If you think prostitutes get to keep what they earn, you’re a very naïve little girl.”

I bristled at the word. I’d admit when I was young, I was naïve. Just like my teacher said. But…that was before. This was now. I’d grown up since. I’d opened my eyes and matured to the ways of corruption and greed.

I didn’t drop eye contact even though his blue gaze resembled the inside of a fire. The hottest part that glowed past orange and yellow. The nucleus where even metal could be melted. “Don’t you see how wrong this is? To purchase a woman with the sole intention of using her against her will?” I allowed a thread of vulnerability to enter my voice, seeking some sort of humanity through the intolerance he wielded. “How can you justify stealing my life for your gain? Can’t you empathise? Imagine if you were snatched from your partner and beaten, tattooed, and imprisoned by men, then sold to someone who promises a future of fucking until you’re no longer of use. You ought to be locked up. You should have your freedom taken and then see—”

“Silence.” Grabbing my cheeks, he squeezed until my mouth pursed and words were an impossibility. My skin heated beneath his touch, sickly and desperate to get away.

“So, you had a boyfriend in your previous life.” He sneered. “I can assure you, whatever tame boy you were in love with will never see you again.”

I didn’t bother enlightening him that Scott and I were good travel partners with similar personalities, but as far as love went? I wasn’t in love with him. Five months wasn’t long enough to know…was it? He might’ve ended up being the one or…we might’ve gone our separate ways.

Either way, my relationship was beside the point.

The point was this bastard had stolen me.

He thought he was god, and I had to obey.

No.

Just no!

I raised my hands to push him away. I went to tear my face from his hold.

But he trapped me before I’d even formulated the thought. His hand caught my wrists, hurting my fresh tattoo, shackling them together while his fingers dug harder into my jaw, promising pain if I didn’t submit.

“Don’t fight. I see it there in your eyes. I feel it in your pulse beneath my touch.” Ducking until his nose brushed over my ear, he whispered threateningly, “I wouldn’t pick a battle you can’t win. I don’t want to hurt you any more than you already are. Not because I have compassion, but because you won’t be able to work as soon as I require. However, push me…and I won’t hesitate to remind you of your new place. With as much force as necessary.”

My heart skittered as adrenaline bubbled with fear.

He pulled back, our eyes locking again.

For the longest second, he didn’t move. His gaze danced over my face, the blue depths turbulent and unstable. The prey in me froze, recognising the thin ice I kneeled on.

He wasn’t entirely human. Wasn’t entirely in control.

He made a noise deep in his chest. A noise that hijacked my fight and flight response and weakened my knees. I was in danger. The worst danger I’d faced. Worse than any angry trafficker. Worse than any pissed-off captor. This man might rule over an exclusive island. He might purchase women for men who gave untold fortunes for pleasure, but beneath his pricey clothes and cultured whispers, he hadn’t evolved from our ancestors.

He was a primordial beast with primitive black and white views. An archaic brute who still believed women were there to serve…in any capacity men commanded.

My hate reached an entirely new level.

His cologne of coconut and something earthy spiralled up my nose as his lips parted, and he breathed as if tasting me. As if he could sense how alert I was. How full of loathing and injustice. How hard I struggled to contain the restless fury inside me beneath strict calm-headedness.

I was actually afraid of the blustering acrimony within my heart. I’d meant to just nurse it, to let it feed me strength until I got free. But somehow, that rage had mutated, stealing space to sprout scaly wings, pierce wicked talons, and hunger for the blood of everyone who’d stolen me.

I didn’t just want to run back to my life. I wanted to leave this man broken and bleeding before I did. I wanted him in jail. I wanted the Mexicans in a grave. I wanted the whole sick and twisted world to die a miserable, poetic death.

His fingers dug extra hard, my teeth pinching against my cheeks. “Stop it.”

I narrowed my eyes and shot every vicious, violent thing I could think of in his direction.

A shudder worked up his arm and down his spine. His gaze left the realm of sane and slipped directly into diabolical. “Fuck, you really shouldn’t have pushed me.”

Shoving me away, he marched to a carved wall unit where hundreds of little drawers waited like an apothecary dispensary, hiding pills and potions, secrets and sins.

Ripping open a drawer in the top row, he fisted something and turned back to face me.

I hadn’t moved.

My legs were full of metal that he’d melted and hardened to anchors. My heart flew too fast, making my pulse unsteady and lack of nutrition obvious on my burned-out system.

Straightening his shoulders, as if hauling himself back from whatever edge he’d almost fallen from, he strode back toward me. Slow and meticulous, he held out his palm, revealing a crystal vial.

A vial with a silver cap and a tiny sticker with a purple orchid on the front. “Your first requirement as an owned woman.” Taking my hand, he planted it firmly into my grip. “Drink it.”

My eyebrows flew up as I opened my fingers and gawked at the tiny bottle. “I won’t drink anything if I don’t know the contents.”

He ran a hand over his mouth, letting it fall away as he struggled to stay normal. “Let’s just say…it’s plant-based and good for you.” Pacing around me, he went to recline against his desk, inserting hands into perfectly pressed slacks. “It won’t hurt you; you have my word.” His eyes gleamed, hinting it might not hurt me, but it would do something.