6. Camazotz

6

Camazotz

I held back my smile as she stood, frozen in fear at the servants who waited in the bedroom for us. I watched as her eyes traced every terrifying detail of them. If I couldn't feed off her, I'd satiate by devouring her terror, bathing in her tears, and when I was finished, I'd come all over her shattered mind.

I eased the confusion I could see clearly in her thoughts. "They are called The Silent. It is useless to engage them in conversation, so do not try." The two maids waited for us by the bedside. The Silent were a permanent fixture at Castle Insomnium, here as long as I had been. Where they came from, I did not know.

They were head-to-toe in white lace, with frighteningly long fingers inside the white, elbow-length silk gloves, their faces covered by lace that resembled a fencing mask you could hardly see through. Only enough to be disturbed by the colorless sunken eyeholes and the lips that fused together.

Florencia stepped back out of reflex, her trembling hand coming to her chest as she shook her head, backing into my chest.

"No."

I chuckled, gripping her shoulders with a squeeze before turning toward the door to leave. She grabbed at my arm, stopping me. "Zotz, no."

Something in her voice, using a childlike nickname for me, hit me like a punch in the gut, but I refused to show it.

Childhood.

A god is never a child. A god is simply birthed into existence in all his powerful terror.

Zotz . I think my brother had called me that once.

"Do you want me to stay while you get ready?" I mused. "While you bathe?"

I was sure she would reconsider, but instead, she nodded quickly. "Don't leave me alone with them," she whispered, looking back at The Silent with nothing but pure terror.

For a woman who called a monstrous jaguar a cuddly baby, her intense reaction to The Silent was entertaining. They were harmless, but there wasn't a single being who would desire to share space with a creature so dismaying.

I lifted a single eyebrow, a mixture of a question and a challenge. There was no part of me that believed this Haxia would undress in my presence. Now that she'd seen the face of the king she was fated for, I was simply another monster in Helios.

She swallowed, taking her eyes off the maids for just a second, squeezing her grip on my arm. "Maybe don't look."

"I will look," I responded, pulling her hand off me and walking toward one of the armchairs in the corner. I would look because contradicting her was becoming sport, because I enjoyed denying her what little I could. I would look because she was beautiful, and there was nothing that could come close to comparing.

But mostly, I would look because there was no greater satisfaction than getting to see my brother's bride before him.

I grabbed the chair with one hand and dragged it along the stone floor, the scratching sound affecting no one else but her. I stopped once the chair was five or six feet away from the clawfoot tub, and I sat, opening my wings to allow the space for me to recline comfortably before throwing my foot over the opposite knee.

Her eyes narrowed, but I could swear she was holding back a smile. This Haxia was…peculiar. Anyone who had the chance to look at my face would be scared, and yet she seemed already used to it, comfortable with me.

She expected me to look away; instead, I crossed my arms and lifted my chin, as if to say, go on .

The Silent moved in synchronicity, feet barely moving as they glided, hovering just an inch over the floor as they slowly moved toward her. They got to work on the bath, gently pouring warm water, along with essential oils.

"Are they going to watch?" Florencia asked me.

I responded with my own question, "Can you see their eyes?"

"Oh god." She gasped loudly, stepping back, this time visibly shaking.

I hardened my stare, curious little Haxia. "Why are you so scared of them?"

" Look at them! " Florencia hissed.

I tsked. "I'm worse."

Florencia's whimpers of fear grew louder as they surrounded her, so close, it almost seemed like they were trying to smell her. Their proximity had left her paralyzed in fear, her pupils blown wide as she shook, not daring to move. But was it simply just that?

The one to her left pulled at the hem of her dress, but the squeal that left her lips was so pathetic, I could not avoid interfering. "Leave." I waved them off with my hand, and without waiting a beat, they simply turned and hovered away.

"What else is it?"

I stood, walking toward her, her breath nothing but short and erratic, the vacant look in her eyes telling me she was somewhere else entirely, locked in a memory surely so twisted and foul to produce that reaction. I moved behind her, dropping one hand to her shoulder.

"M-my father." Her eyes dropped to the ground.

Her flesh was warm against my skin, but it was with the heavy weight that she finally took a long full inhale, a single tear falling from her left eye. It should have been fulfilling, satisfactory, even delicious to have her here, trembling under me.

It was what I had been pushing for, what I had set out to do.

But this fear wasn't for me. It didn't belong to me, and I had not earned it. Instead, it stoked something inside me, something like anger to see the Haxia so broken by some weakling warlock.

I leaned in, whispering in her ear. "Haxia. You are not there. You are here, with me." The words allowed her to finally release the air in her lungs, and I brushed her dress strap off her shoulder.

And then, the other.

Moving my hands to her back, I undid the clasp and pulled the zipper all the way down. A small movement of her chest, another stuttered inhale, this one a short burst of oxygen that brought her back to me. The dress fell, but she didn't cover up, fear still oozing from her veins in a way that made my cock hard but my conscience guilty.

She wore a black underwear set, unremarkable as could be, and yet I got closer. Strong legs, golden and long for her stature. Palm-sized tits that barely filled her bra and begged to be squeezed, to be bitten and marked by my teeth.

Toying with the thought was dangerous. Being the one to unclasp the bra and slide it off her arms was an act of war. And yet, I did it anyway. I could practically feel her heart racing, could hear the thrumming of her veins pulsing and delivering the elixir that pumped in her chest.

She broke from her spell when my hand grazed down her spine, my finger hooking at the strap of her panties before she pulled them down on her own. With a small turn of her neck, she looked back at me, wiping a tear with the side of her hand. With a graceful lift of her leg, she stepped into the tub, the steam still lifting from the water with ease.

Bringing her hands to the side of the tub to brace herself, she lowered slowly, turning her head once more, this time speaking. "Don't watch," she rasped out, not bothering to clear the fearful scratch in her throat.

I opened my mouth to remind her I didn't care about her feelings, but she sunk all the way in, head and all. I stared as her hair floated in silence until all the air bubbles disappeared. A minute passed, and I cracked my knuckles, moving to the side of the tub. My interactions with humans in the entirety of my existence could be counted on one hand.

But I knew enough to know they needed to breathe. For gods, it was a choice, like taking a sip of wine or smoking a cigarette. I could breathe. It mattered not whether I filled my lungs with air, though.

Ten more seconds passed, and just as I was fully prepared to yank her out of the water myself, she emerged, the waves splashing out of the tub from the force of her rising.

She sighed, bringing her hand from her face to her hair as she leaned back and relaxed, her shoulders melting and her eyes still closed. "Thank you."

I stood unblinking from surprise. I'd never been thanked before. No occurrence in this existence had ever caused me to provide an act of kindness upon a stranger, let alone someone I considered a prisoner. I didn't respond, remaining where I stood, fearing the way her words might change me.

Florencia didn't notice my turmoil. She grabbed the luffa floating in the water and began to soap her arms, a soft hum coming from her lips, as if the terror she had been locked in was nothing but a distant memory already.

"What else scares you, witch?" I asked.

She paused, throat dipping, before moving her eyes down to the luffa between her fingers. "Why do you want to know?"

"So I can protect you." I grinned, baring my teeth.

She shook her head and looked back at me with a wise certainty in her stare. "No, you're lying. I think you're just famished."

It was obvious. The King of Nightmare feeds off fear. I was born starving. From birth, I was meant to be hated and alone. I was kept in the darkness, away from my brother, who was cast up into the Sun. I was always hungry, from my very first day. Fear could satiate me, as there was no living thing in this land to nourish.

"I never lie," I said with a dip of my chin, my own words shocking me as I absorbed their truth.

Protecting her was not part of my plan, my desires, nor my motives. Yet, my mouth betrayed me.

She blinked slowly, lifting her hand from the water and extending the luffa to me. "Wash my back?"

I tilted my head in confusion, water dripping down from her hand to the floor as she waited for me to accept the invitation. I walked to her, expecting at any point her mind to change. There was no reason why she should let me touch her, and yet she brought her knees up and hugged them, offering me her back.

"I'm scared of losing my sisters," she said just as I dipped the luffa in water.

"You lose them in your nightmares?" I asked.

She looked at me over her shoulder, a frown between her eyebrows. "No."

I hummed. "Losing your sisters is a human fear. There's something deeper, something worse. I want a nightmare."

Florencia pressed her lips into a hard line, the color of her lips turning almost white when she closed her eyes. A labored exhale left her lungs, and the temperature of the room dropped to a brutal cold, her shiver enough to make her breath show in the air, the images dancing behind her eyelids.

Tears streamed freely down her cheeks, but she spoke clearly. "I can't come back."

"From?" I pushed.

She turned so quickly to face me, the water splashed from the edge of the tub. "You said I'm not walking through dreams. So what am I doing then? Explain." Her chest heaved hard with her breathing, beads of water trickling down her dark nipples tantalizingly slowly.

I sighed, dropping the luffa and drying my hands on my knees. "Dreams are not real. They are paintings, images created from the thoughts, ideas, and anguish of those who house them. You are simply sensing their fears and their hopes."

She scrunched her nose. "No. That doesn't make sense. I see it, I feel it. I'm there , running from a werewolf or—"

I smirked. "A werewolf?"

She shrugged. "Just stupid things people dream. What I'm saying is, I'm not just reading their minds and—"

I captured her chin quickly. "Why must you make this realm so mundane? There's no walking. No reading. This is energy vibrating and feeding off humanity's worst fears, growing from their most urgent desires. You dipped your toe into someone's subconscious once, and now you are deeper than you ever thought possible."

"I don't understand. Am I inside some sort of collective consciousness?" Her breathing picked up, like the magnitude of comprehending the all and nothing that was this place was a disturbance to her mind. It could do that to a feeble human who could never grasp all that was and wasn't.

But she was a Haxia.

"You are here." I waved to the room around us, "Helios, the land of dreams, nightmares, subconsciousness, whatever you'd like to call it."

"And all of it is called Helios?" Her desire to know more made me wonder if she had no qualms with her fate. She was destined to be my brother's wife, yet here she was, asking for a history lesson from the rejected twin.

"Yes. The castle, the vast forest that surrounds it and all that comes before it belongs to me, in the nightmare. I am the one who keeps the forest back, I am the one who cages the monsters at night and keeps them from blistering and ruining the dreams of humans." I raised my voice, unable to contain the emotions that came with revealing the burden I carried for all eternity.

She seemed hesitant to speak, her voice soft when she finally found her words. "And on the other side?"

I clucked my tongue. "Elios and his dreams."

"Am I asleep somewhere else then?" she asked.

"You are here!" I hissed, my face getting closer to her as I grazed the sharp point of my nail along her neck, where the thin cut still screamed, the skin around it raised.

She sucked in a breath through her teeth, like the pain was enough to assure her that she was indeed here, with me. She nodded and got up at once, naked and unafraid of me. "So maybe it is a little mundane, Zotz."