Once a Myth

Better than any food truck Scott and I had sampled. Better than any of his shoestring budget cooking or my ill-fated attempts at baking. Definitely better than the slop the Mexicans had fed me in the dark.

What had happened to the other girls imprisoned with me? Where had Tess ended up? Did she have such a difficult introduction to her new ‘master’ as I did? What about Scott? Was he desperately trying to find me, or had he moved on and left me as an unanswered mystery?

My questions mellowed in my mind as I continued grazing. Occasionally, my gaze would catch on the chair Sully had vacated, and I worried all over again.

Why me?

If what he said was true—about not being interested in his other goddesses but for some inexplicable reason was intrigued by me…why?

Why did I puzzle him?

Why had he made it a personal vendetta to destroy me in every way he could?

Alone, at last, the silence gave me far too much space to analyse and deduce. It allowed quietness to be honest, and I didn’t like the confessions that honesty brought.

Sully might be intrigued by me, but…I was intrigued by him.

I hated him—of that there was no doubt or question.

But…he also confused me.

He conjured terror beyond measure but also a heat that couldn’t be denied. His attractiveness was just as deadly as those plants that lured frogs and insects to their untimely death, killing them with beauty.

He was that plant, seemingly innocuous when his temper wasn’t spiked, carefully calm when he had his own way, yet…utterly ruthless when it came to its prey.

No, he’s not a plant.

He’s a shark.

Satin and silky, hidden by deep water, camouflaged by sunlight and ocean.

He might be the most attractive male I’d ever seen. He might have made me come. I might’ve sat on his hand and suffered the most debilitating bliss I’d ever had. He might’ve been kind enough to take me to a doctor. He might’ve been brutally honest that there was something we couldn’t understand linking us in this war.

But at the end of the day, he still paid money for my life.

He still believed he owned me.

He would still rent me out for his gain.

My hands curled.

My hate returned.

He’s a monster.

He was supremely dangerous, and I could never, ever forget that.

This island was dangerous. This food was dangerous. Everything about this place was perfectly orchestrated to lull me into acceptance, to cushion me with an existence I could accept, and nullify the fact that I had to pay for this luxury with my body.

No.

My mind turned to thoughts of escape. Without realising it, Sully had given me a blueprint to his empire. He’d told me that all the islands around us were his. Therefore, I couldn’t find help on land. He’d told me a farm cultivated his food close by. Therefore, there would be workers and staff who would turn me in.

The only way to freedom would be to either build a raft and sail away without anyone noticing or somehow learn to swim great distances. Both those options sounded as if I was castaway, shipwrecked, and fighting to survive.

In a way, I was.

I’d crashed from my normal world. I’d lost all those I cared about. I was as alone in this paradise as I’d ever been, and I constantly fought the urge to break down and cry. To give in to my grief. To beg someone, anyone, to rescue me. To keep from acknowledging that the only person who could save me…was me.

Because if I admitted that—if I fully accepted my situation—I might as well wade into the shallows and give up because the thought of fighting against Sully every day, of letting strangers enter my body, of going to battle every time that bastard appeared…it was too much.

I wouldn’t have the strength.

I wouldn’t trust that whatever storm brewed between us wouldn’t evolve into a full electrical hurricane, sparking fire, annihilating souls, breaking me apart bone by bone.

My hands shook as I reached for a banana leaf wrapped around jasmine rice and edamame beans.

Enough.

Relax.

Rest.

Recuperate.

By the time dusk fell, I’d done the best I could. Most dishes were empty and those that weren’t attracted a few finches and sparrows to partake with me. I placed a few pieces of pumpkin and pineapple on a napkin and left it on the sand, staying silent and still as hermit crabs inched close, sliced off pieces with their pinchers, and scurried back to the undergrowth to eat.

With peace came awareness, and the longer I sat on the deck, watching the golden glow transform to peach twilight, the more I reflected on myself and how strong I would have to be to endure this new fate.

If I never found a way free, could I withstand four years at his mercy?

If I stopped fighting, would I turn into the brainwashed victims that Sully took such great mockery in?

Either way, I had to persevere.

I had to stay ready.

Had to remain true to me.

To Eleanor.

Not Jinx.

Not his.

Never his.

* * * * *

I stayed in my villa for twenty-four hours.

Unmolested, untaunted—totally, utterly, blissfully alone.

I slept well, considering the events. I showered in the outdoor shower, serenaded by an inquisitive parrot and sharing water droplets with gleaming green tree frogs. They sat on the fern fronds, ribbiting as the sun warmed the world and the humidity level steadily rose with each minute.

Instead of welcoming more disaster into my life, I avoided going to the dining villa. Using the in-room phone, I requested breakfast, lunch, and dinner to be brought to me, slowly growing accustomed and stupidly thinking I was safe in my private villa where even Sully hadn’t knocked on my door.

A pretty staff member delivered a tray full of fluffy eggs, a mountain of tropical fruit salad, and still-warm croissants. Next to the freshly squeezed apple juice rested a bottle of pills with a small note in sharp, masculine handwriting to take one with each meal, doctor’s orders.

Between meals, I gradually grew stronger. My body was no longer woozy if I turned too fast, and my vision didn’t black out if I stood too quickly. Growing restless, I went for a walk along the beach, spying more villas in the lush foliage, tucked away with privacy, none of their inhabitants noticeable.

Did they house other goddesses?

Guests?

Staff?

As the sun completed its arc overhead, promising morning, then delivering afternoon, before finally condemning us back to the cloak of darkness, my heart worried more and more as evening settled.

He’d said I’d be entertaining tonight.

He’d threatened that I’d be used against my will.

Not wanting to return to my villa, but afraid of what would happen if I was found blatantly searching for methods of escape, I returned to my parcel of crystal sand, shed my summer dress, and slipped naked into the tide.

There, I waited.

My eyes trained on the deck leading into my villa.

My ears pricked.

My heart kicking.

My hands curled and ready to fight.

Chapter Twenty

SWIMMING WASN’T MY ONLY form of exercise.

I had weights in my villa. I ran in the soft sand ringing my shores. I regularly used the landscape of rugged hillside and rock face, splashing up the waterfall and scaling slippery crevices to sculpt and hone muscles that might get lax without use.