Chapter 21

Isnuggle against Rion’s chest, the epitome of contentment and calm. I imagine I would feel this way about any of my mates, any of the men I love. A giddy, half asleep part of me wishes I could stare intently at the engagement ring on my finger like they do in the movies. Revel in the knowledge that soon, I’ll be a Mrs. Soon, I’ll be married.

Instead of doing that, I simply trail my finger over the edge of the ring, tracing the design. Kai gave it to me from his personal vault—the place where his dragon likes to hoard all of the gold and jewels he’s capable of acquiring.

I love it.

I love it so freaking much, my heart feels seconds from bursting, splattering the walls of the cell in vibrant red blood.

Lazily, I draw pictures into Rion’s chest as he continues to sleep, but after only a few minutes, my bladder begins to protest. Being extra mindful not to wake up my serene, sleeping lover—and he needs all of the sleep he can get, especially since he’s still healing—I stumble towards where I took off my dress. It takes me a few tries, but I’m able to slip it on in some semblance of modesty.

Before I leave this section of the small cell, I plant a chaste kiss on Rion’s forehead, and I swear I hear him murmur my name in his sleep. The thought makes me smile. It’s me he’s dreaming about. Me. I bite my lip as I brush my fingers through his thick hair…before my hand catches on something.

My smile dissipates when I realize that the object in question is sharp to the touch. No, not sharp, necessarily, but thorny.

A stem.

I run the pad of my fingers over the thorny stem and then feel the edges of the flower. I’m not positive, but I would guess based on the shape that it’s a rose, maybe a tulip.

Did Rion get this for me?

Love for him consumes me, bursting like water in a kettle, and I bring the satiny petal up to my cheek. One smell confirms that it’s definitely a rose. Fresh, too. When did Rion have time to grab this for me? We fell asleep immediately after sex, and I would’ve known if he left for even a second.

Maybe it was there before…? And I didn’t notice…?

Choosing not to focus on this, I place the flower gently on the edge of the bed and then wander towards where I know the toilet is. It’s slightly embarrassing to have to pee in front of your sleeping lover, so I pray that he doesn’t wake up.

I quickly take care of business and then wash my hands in the metal sink beside the toilet. It makes a weird, deafening, creaking sound as I turn the knobs to adjust the temperature. I wince, half expecting Rion to jump out of bed, instantly alert, but my shifter remains asleep, his soft snores filling the air.

I wonder what he looks like right now. Would his arms be stretched behind his head? Is he still wearing that paper hospital gown? Would he look younger in sleep? Gentler? That’s one word I never thought I would use to describe any of my mates. They’re a lot of things, but gentle isn’t one of them. Except with me.

I suppose I’m the exception to a lot of things.

A tiny smile begins to play on my lips as I face the direction of Rion’s breathing. My handsome, perfect, eccentric shifter. Mr. Scruffles.

Biting my lower lip, I debate the merits of waking him up with my lips wrapped around his cock. My pussy throbs when I think about the night before, when our bodies were twisted together on the small, twin-sized bed. All I would need to do to ensure a repeat episode would be to climb on the bed, grab Rion’s cock, and?—

Music drifts to my ears, the noise hushed and distorted, as if I’m hearing it down the end of a long tunnel. My entire body goes rigid as the blissful, enchanting noise pounds against my eardrums. I can feel my heart race in my chest, and I’m suddenly consumed with the need to move. To walk. To leave this cell, leave Rion.

What…?

Before I realize what I’m doing, my feet are propelling me out of the cell. I stumble slightly, my face hitting the edge of one of the silver bars, but even my shout of pain doesn’t stop me from moving. It’s almost as if I don’t have any control of my body, as if I’m being controlled by a puppeteer and I’m nothing but the poor, dusty marionette he decided to use for the day.

No!

I try to open my mouth, try to scream, but the lilting voice continues to corral me forward.

Everything will be okay.

Everything is fine.

You’re fine.

It feels as if someone is speaking those words directly into my brain, despite the fact that the only noise in the hall is the soulful singing. I don’t recognize the song or the language, but the words blend together. Beautiful. So beautiful.

Abruptly, my feet stop moving, though I don’t know where I am. The music cuts off as quickly as it began, causing an emptiness to blow through my body. I suddenly can’t breathe. Can’t think.

What…?

Where…?

How…?

I know I should be alarmed, but there seems to be a perpetual cloud of confusion hovering over my consciousness. I bring both of my hands up to my head instinctively, a low groan leaving my throat.

Rion…?

Where is…?

I struggle to articulate his name, though my mind conjures up images of my handsome shifter mate. But it isn’t long before those too are lost in a sea of confusion.

“Nina Doe,” a soft, masculine voice whispers. A moment later, I can feel a single finger trail up my cheek and then back down. It touches the very edge of my lips before dropping from my face. “The Queen of the Labyrinth. The mate of the kings.”

His voice is musical…magical. My entire body sways towards his like a flower in a grassy field, desperate to capture every ray of sunlight. I wilt. Burn.

For him.

For this stranger.

For his voice.

“You don’t know who I am,” he continues, and I can hear his footsteps as he walks around me, stopping when he’s at my back. Still, I’m unable to move. Unable to turn towards him. Talk to him. Acknowledge him.

All I can do is sit in my customary darkness, his voice slithering through my body like dozens of insidious snakes.

“But I know who you are.” His hands move to my breasts and give them a quick squeeze. I want to scream at the violation, but my lips remain stubbornly pressed together. All that manages to escape is a single tear that cascades down my cheek, leaving behind a blotchy red smear. His fingers tweak my nipples through the fabric of my dress, but instead of the love and lust I felt when Rion did that last night, all I can muster up now is disgust and horror. Pain.

But even those emotions are soon swept away, replaced by an icy numbness that shrivels up my lungs and freezes my heart. Am I even pumping blood anymore? I’m not sure.

“You must be wondering why you’re trapped. Why you’re captivated by my voice, even when your head tells you that you hate me.” He leans forward to nip at my earlobe, and I shudder. “I’m a siren,” he continues at last, and the species sparks a tiny bit of recognition, though it’s hard for me to focus through the mind-numbing haze. “But I’m also a greedy man, Nina. A very greedy man. And when someone offers me a lot of money to kill your pretty cunt…” He lowers his hand to touch me under my dress, and I want to sob. But my stupid, traitorous body is incapable of doing anything besides standing there like prey.

I hate it.

I hate him.

The intensity of my emotions almost takes me by surprise. I’ve hated a lot of people in my life—Alyssa, Raphael, Lionel, Narian, and all of those men and women who hurt my twins—but I can’t remember a time when my hatred was so sudden and pronounced. There’s no buildup. One second, this man’s a stranger, and the next, he’s my enemy.

And I hate him. I hate him for making me lose control of a body I just became proud of. I hate him for taking advantage of me when I’m incapable of fighting back, just like a coward would do.

And I hate him even more for trying to take me from my mates.

I have no doubt in my mind that he’s here to kill me. Obviously, he wishes to collect on the money from the hit list. A demented part of me can’t even blame him. Not really. Even the sanest of people can be corrupted by greed and money. By power and influence.

“I wanted to take my time with you,” the siren continues, his husky voice reverberating through me. Calming me. He removes his hand from my body, and I hear rather than see him step away. “But I don’t think I’ll have enough time. So instead, I want you to kill yourself.”

His silky words…

I’m helpless to resist them. They compel me to do the unthinkable, but I’m unable to swim against the currents. They continually pull and tug at me until I’m drowning, my head sinking beneath the turbulent ocean waves.

My mates…

Immense sadness fills me as my feet move me forward, my body desperate to adhere to the siren’s command, even as my mind screams at me to stop.

I place both of my hands on what I assume is the wall of the tunnel…

And then I slam my head against the hard cement.

Once. Twice. Three times. Four times.

Pain explodes behind my forehead, shooting through my bloodstream like thousands of colorful, explosive fireworks. Blood trickles from the wound on my head and into my eyes. I can feel it touch my lips, but even the salty taste isn’t enough to stop me.

Madness.

This is madness.

You don’t want to kill yourself, Nina.

You don’t want to die.

Fight this!

But even as I think this, I continue to bang my head against the cement. Again. And again. And again.

The Labyrinth shakes, almost as if the building itself is furious at me for hurting myself, for daring to leave it, but no one intervenes. Darkness closes in on me from all sides, the monotony of blackness interspersed with shooting white lights.

Am I dying?

What’s happening to me?

More blood cascades down my cheeks, following the path that my tears took earlier, but I can’t stop. My body refuses to let me, forcing me to obey the twisted, sadistic desires of the siren.

“What the…?! Hey!”

I don’t immediately recognize the new voice, but the next thing I know, the haziness is ripped from my mind like a string being cut. I’m suddenly keenly aware of the blistering pain in my head and the heaviness of my heart. I hear what sounds like a neck being snapped, and then a gentle hand touches my hair.

“Nina, stay with me. I got you.”

That voice…

Logan.

But before I can focus on that, before I can focus on anything, my body sways precariously to the side and I fall unconscious.