Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
My eyes have been wide the whole time I’ve been listening to him, thoroughly engaged. We have our own problems in the underwater world, and there are Syrens who are cruel and dangerous to others, but all of this seems utterly fantastical.
“So learning about God kept you in line, kept you human?” I ask.
He nods. “Yes. In the beginning, it was hard to understand. All I knew was hatred and rage. But I suppose the Good Book has some good use. It got through to me. I started believing it. Combined with the discipline that was a part of our lives, we slowly came around. Eventually—and we are talking centuries here—I realized it was all made up, just stories to keep people in line. But the rigid routine, the vows, the structure? That kept me in control. That brought me to here and now, how I’m able to talk to you without wanting to rip your head off.”
I swallow uneasily at that. “So you stopped believing in God…”
“No,” he says, biting his lip for a moment. “No, I believe in something. Maybe it’s God. Maybe it’s something else, someone else. But all these rules, this guilt? That’s all man-made.”
“But you’re peddling it,” I point out. “You’re spreading these rules and the guilt to the people here, and you don’t even believe in it. You’re spreading lies.”
He lifts his shoulder in a shrug. “In time, they will come to their own conclusions. Maybe on their deathbed.”
I think about that for a moment. We have our own beliefs in Limonos, but none so complicated as this. Then again, my head feels foggy from all the wine I’ve consumed.
“Earlier, you said it’s Friday. How long was I out for?” I ask him.
“Twenty-four hours,” he says.
My eyes widen. “You left me tied here for a whole day?”
“You said you wanted to be alone,” he says mildly. “Besides, now that I don’t have to wet your tail every couple of hours, I don’t need to tend to you as much.”
“I see,” I say, suddenly not hungry. I put the plate down. “So I’m just supposed to spend my days in here like this, with you only dropping by when you feel like it to throw me some bread?”
He stares at me, his expression curious, like he’s trying to figure out a puzzle.
“What is it exactly that you expect from me?” he asks.
My mind spins, fueled by alcohol.
I can’t forget my plan.
Seduce, destroy, escape.
I’m still a Syren, no matter what.
“What about company?” I ask him, making my voice softer. “Don’t you care at all about how alone I’ll feel in this cold, dark room? Don’t you know what loneliness is?”
He flinches like he’s been slapped. “Of course I do. Loneliness is all I’ve known. I’m marooned at the bottom of the fucking world.”
“Then you don’t have to be so cruel to me,” I tell him, twisting in my seat until I’m on my knees in front of him. “You don’t have to torture me.”
“Cruel?” His throat bobs as he swallows thickly, his gaze on my chest. “I will keep you clothed, bathed, fed. What more could you ask for?”
“A warm body,” I tell him. “A little company for these dark nights.”
“You’re my prisoner. You’re…a pet.”
“Even pets deserve some kindness, don’t they?”
“Not if you’re planning on slaughtering them one day.”
He says that as a way to scare me off, and it does scare me because I hear the bitter truth in his voice. But even so, I lean toward him, enough that I lose my balance and pitch toward him.
He reaches out and grabs me by the shoulders, holding me back.
I stare up at him, pouring every ounce of seduction into my eyes, hoping they’ll have some effect on him.
I know he wants me, desires me; there’s no question there.
I just need to loosen the rope that has him bound too, the one he doesn’t know he’s tangled in.
“You wanted to take away my voice,” I whisper, watching as his pupils become black holes. “So kiss me until I can’t speak.” My gaze drops to his lips. “Kiss me before I—”
“Christ,” he says through a growl, his eyes flashing wildly.
But instead of kissing me, he reaches out and grabs me by the throat.
And squeezes me until I can’t breathe.
Chapter Eleven
PRIEST
One of the most crucial teachings in the monastery was the mastery of one’s emotions. While I was a beast, my emotions controlled every aspect of my savage life. Granted, my emotions weren’t very complex—they were simplified to only anger and desire, but they were the ones steering the ship, so to speak.
Every day, we would wake at four in the morning, in the dark and with the birdsong. The monastery was located on top of a jagged rock that had broken away from the mountain pass long ago. We were completely isolated, with few visitors daring to traverse the ladders to reach us.