Talia and Isaac

by Lorraine Margaret

Genres: Erotic & Steamy Romance; Fantasy Romance; enemies to lovers; historical fantasy; captive romance; royalty romance; erotic romance; spiritual romance; psychic romance; alpha male

Synopsis

Imprisoned. Enslaved. In love...

Beautiful and inspirational, Talia is the most gifted Lokian visionary of her time. Her world is simple and idyllic until she is savagely ripped away from all she loves and plunged into a life of sexual slavery.

Talia's new master is Isaac, all-powerful King of Cornicunia. Dominant and passionate, he will do anything to learn the secrets of her mystical mind and is determined to enslave her to his will.

Isaac takes Talia to the mysterious blue room to play his dangerous sensual game of trust and surrender. Stunned by their intense, magical connection, they begin a perilous battle of wills from which neither will emerge unscathed...

Talia is pushed to her limits by her hard, demanding master as Isaac is torn between his need for control and his growing obsession with his charismatic slave. Confused and bewitched by her dark, mercurial captor, Talia vows to use all her visionary powers to win Isaac's game and forge a union of souls to last a lifetime and beyond.

Can Talia uncover the secrets of the blue room and gain Isaac's trust or will he insist on playing by his rules even if it breaks her? Or are the king and the visionary both powerless against the combined forces of destiny and fate? As they play the very deadliest of games where hearts could be irrevocably broken, they discover a passionate, all-consuming love that could transform their lives – or destroy them both...

Heart-stoppingly romantic, spiritual and sensual, prepare to become obsessed with Talia and Isaac today!

NOTE: This book is a standalone steamy fantasy romance intended for readers who enjoy the raw intimacy of sexual and spiritual love.

Release date: November 23, 2020

Publisher: Tenshi Books

Print pages: 581

Sample

Part One

The Game

 

 

The Blue Room

She was kneeling naked on the cold stone floor waiting for her torture to begin. This was her life now.

Talia’s heart shrivelled as silent tears cascaded down her icy cheeks. She had no choice but to accept her terrible fate, trapped in a nightmare she could never escape. She was enslaved to King Isaac, at the mercy of his dark desires, and the horror of the unknown stretched into infinity and beyond. Cold dread coursed through her veins and consumed her pounding heart, leaving her breathless and disorientated. She was devastated, powerless – and alone. Why was this happening to her? What atrocities had she committed in past lives to suffer such torment now? Lokians did not believe in accidents or coincidence – this blue room had been waiting for her since birth. It was her destiny, her fate.

She stared at the walls imprisoning her, transfixed by the beauty of the tapestries. Blue. Everything was sky blue, the colour of her spirit and her transcendental tool. It was the colour that opened the inner door to her enlightened mind that saw beyond the illusions of this mortal world. She was surrounded by those illusions in King Isaac’s palace and craved the tranquillity of her forest home. There was no light in this windowless room, no nourishment for the soul. Memories of the forest flooded her spirit, every cell in her body mourning its loss. The supernatural beauty of a starlit night, the sweet scent of grass after rainfall… that life was over. And there was nothing she could do about it.

It was too much. One little Lokian visionary could not bear so much suffering and pain. Violent sobs wracked her body, blocking her nose and her throat, and she gasped for breath, the air barely reaching her burning lungs. Death would be a blessing, but she would fight to stay alive. Stupid. Pointless. She knew all too well how this would end. Her head spun as she stared at the four-poster bed, the only piece of furniture in an eerie blue room. The spawn of the devil. Possessed by a demonic voice, it delighted in her torment. You’re a slave now, Talia, a sex slave. You’re not a Lokian visionary anymore. Shivers surged through her naked body and a cold sheen of sweat broke out across her back. Her stomach lurched and churned as the blue room spun around her, intent on driving her insane. It was more terrifying than Isaac’s notorious chambers of torture could ever be. No thumb screws, no whips, no rack… no clues as to the torment that awaited her tonight. The unknown was a truly terrifying thing…

There was only one thing that could calm her, give hope and comfort in her hour of need. Sweet solace from her most unlikely saviour: her captor, her master, her king.

The man with the sky blue eyes…

Isaac’s eyes haunted her, the memory of their first meeting etched forever on her soul. Her captor was not an empty vessel, a man defined by privilege and power. Something special lurked within his sky blue eyes, something spectacular. Isaac yearned for something beyond this mortal world. The spectacular something transcended his royal title, was born of his spirit, not his noble birth. And it belonged to her – her presence in this world had called it forth. She was a Lokian, she knew such things. Mystical things. Something otherworldly was at play here, everything was not as it seemed…

Isaac’s eyes had raked over her trembling body, stripping her naked with their hypnotic stare. Taunting her with the spectacular something…

“The blue room. You know what to do, Katrina.”

Isaac had turned and strode away, leaving her stunned and disorientated as the woman with the kind eyes took charge of her. You know what to do, Katrina; Talia had known what that meant. Katrina was to prepare her… for Isaac’s pleasure. She had reclined in the sunken pool in the bathing room and listened numbly as Katrina quietly said the only words she would speak.

“His Majesty would like you to focus your mind on the night ahead, Talia, so I will perform this ritual in silence. Please, don’t be scared. His Majesty will not hurt you.”

He will destroy me, Talia had thought as she stared into Katrina’s soft brown eyes. She could not imagine sharing intimacies with a man she did not know. Her people used sexuality to express spiritual connection unsullied by the depravity King Isaac enjoyed. She had experienced this sacred intimacy with only two men in all her twenty-nine summers and was unprepared for enforced sexual union designed to enslave her to her king. Isaac feared her people’s mystical powers, she had seen that in his eyes. He feared their growing hold on the nation’s hearts and saw it as a threat – but the Lokians were a threat to no one. Her people were a simple people who only wished to live their lives of love and peace in their beautiful forest home. Only wished to be left alone. If only…

She closed her eyes as her body swayed, her arms hanging by her sides, limp and weightless. She was eerily relaxed now, tricked by the familiar kneeling position she practised every day during her journeys to the spirit realms. She focused on her new mantra, repeating it silently in her mind. The spectacular something in Isaac’s eyes. The king held a unique magic deep within his soul – her challenge was to find it and win its trust. Understand what it meant. It was the tiniest glimmer of hope, the light that would help her endure the darkness of her terrible new life.

She shuddered, shifting her weight to ease the pressure on her sore knees. Her injured shoulder throbbed relentlessly, and there was a sickening ache in her belly. She yearned to bury herself under the inviting blankets on the bed, cocoon her ailing body in comfort and warmth. Yet she knelt as Katrina had told her to do. Why was she so obedient, so strangely calm? Why wasn’t she screaming and wailing, making a desperate attempt at escape? This waiting was torture, the horror of the unknown stretching ominously before her until the end of time.

She gazed down at her glistening skin, at her small round breasts, slick with oil. Katrina had removed all the hair on her body, no place left untouched by her gentle hands. She had been prepared for Isaac’s sexual delectation; no choice, no voice, a naked kneeling doll, her only covering the curtain of her long auburn hair. Such intimacy lay ahead with a man she had not spoken one word to yet. It was against everything she believed. She shook her spinning head as madness threatened to invade it, take it over as Isaac planned to take her over, body and soul…

After her bath, Katrina had swathed her in the lightest of gowns. A silken wisp of the purest white, it had clung to her dew soft, oiled skin, highlighting her turquoise eyes and enhancing the sensual beauty of her sleek body. Her traitorous sexuality had sprung to life, wetness gushing between her legs at the eroticism of this ritual to prepare her for her king. Her sex did not respect the conflict between its desires and her soul. Maybe that was the only way to survive, separate the physical and the spiritual, but how did she do that? It was not the Lokian way.

She had walked eerily empty corridors with the silent Katrina and when they reached the blue room, she had taken Talia’s gown away. Katrina had smiled as she left as if tonight was to be the most wonderful experience of Talia’s life, her wedding night with a beloved, tender groom, and not her initiation into slavery.

“Don’t worry, Talia, please, be glad. King Isaac’s attentions are a blessing and a great honour. Every woman here envies you tonight.”

Katrina had bitten her lip as if she had said too much. But she had said nothing to help Talia, nothing at all. Talia knew the truth; this abuse was no honour, it was a twisted tribute to her people’s powers. Isaac did not desire her or want to hurt her, did not find her beautiful or despicable. This was about his sovereignty and dominion over the people of Cornicunia, nothing more, nothing less.

She didn’t know how much time had passed since Katrina left. She had been plunged into a sinister state of limbo, placidly waiting to be dragged down into hell. Her mind was consumed by a strange numbness as if this horror was happening to someone else, and her injured shoulder throbbed insistently, determined to remind her of her abduction. A haunting image flashed through her mind, the broken expression in Clyde’s eyes as he watched Isaac’s soldiers carry her away. What was her beloved guru thinking now? He was old and frail; how would he cope with this? She shuddered. Her powers were muddied and weakened by her trauma, her body too bewildered to allow her soul to soar, but she had to close her mind to spiritual communication with her people. Other Lokians could confuse the pathways of psychic connection, but she was the only one who could block all thoughts, images and sounds. And she did it now, pulling sky blue veils around her mind as one might pull the curtains around the four-poster bed. She wrapped her thoughts and emotions in sky blue and blocked the world out. She didn’t want her people to feel her fear and confusion, sense the abominable things that would happen to her here…

But now she had cocooned her mind, it was more powerful than ever, existing in a world entirely of its own. Her imagination ran wild, fixating on the unspeakable horrors that would take place in a windowless room. Blue room. Everything beautiful the colour represented would be tarnished, corrupted and debased here tonight, for this would be the night her life changed forever, the night her spirit died.

She squeezed her eyes tightly shut as her heart pounded in her ears and her quiet panic threatened to rise and erupt. She could beat her head against the stone walls again and again and again, destroy herself before Isaac destroyed her…

But she was too late…

Footsteps…

Louder, getting nearer…

The heavy stamp of booted feet impatient for her suffering and torture…

Her heart stuttered.

Her pulse skittered.

Her soul shattered, plummeting into the bowels of hell.

The door swung open, and Isaac’s muscular frame filled the entrance, his powerful physical presence emphasising the absoluteness of her plight. His shirt strained across his broad chest and shoulders, his tight trousers clung to his strong thighs. She was no match for this man, not physically… intellectually, spiritually, yes – but would he listen to her? Listen to a woman? She was a gifted visionary, but she had a horrible feeling this would be of no consequence to him.

He stared at her, his exquisite eyes impenetrable, calmly evaluating her dazed, unseeing ones. She stared back, without fear or humility, for this was all she had. For a few more moments, she had autonomy of her body and would use it in any way she could. For a few more moments she was still Talia.

Isaac turned and locked the door, and her heart sank into the depths of the cold stone floor. She would never be able to evade Isaac’s clutches – unless she could somehow incapacitate him? But what would be the point? His soldiers would be waiting to apprehend her escape. If she got out that door, she would be swiftly recaptured and her punishment would be brutal, her torture increased according to her crime…

Isaac loomed over her, his hands resting on his belt. He was a wild man, six foot of powerful, muscular male, his raw sexuality a breathtakingly potent physical energy rippling through his flesh, invading her senses, searing her soul. His short beard emphasised his primal masculinity and his jet black hair curled sensuously around his shoulders. Her body quivered as it felt something far more terrifying than fear. Isaac was magnificent.

“Did I tell you to look at me?”

Her head swam as she lowered it, her heart thumping with terror and distress. This horror was unfolding just as she had anticipated.

Isaac slowly unbuckled his belt, the simple, everyday action stealing the breath from her body as she accepted her monstrous new life as his powerless slave. Was he planning to beat her or to free his manhood and… She couldn’t bear to think of such a thing, couldn’t serenely accept her terrible fate. A fresh sheen of sweat burst through her skin, her heart plummeting in her chest. Violent waves of nausea swept through her body as she lost hold of all rational thought and did the one thing she knew was futile…

Leaping to her feet, she lurched forwards, racing for the door. She moved faster than she had ever moved before, but Isaac was faster than the devil. He was upon her in an instant, his powerful body covering hers, pushing her face first to the floor. He broke her fall with his muscular arms, holding them under her breasts as he landed on top of her, stealing her breath and rendering her immobile. He held his weight on his forearms so she was trapped between them and his body, her arms pinned to her sides. Even as she struggled for breath, she appreciated the profundity of his gentleness. Isaac was not hurting her, but his enormous, rock-hard erection pressed demandingly against her behind. It was incomprehensible – how could such gentleness coexist with such sexual threat? Her head swam with confusion as she gulped for air.

“Breathe.”

One small word uttered in the softest of voices, yet it was still a command. The absolute dominance of this man was indisputable, a king used to having his way at all times. He moved one arm to rest his hand upon her head and a pure vibration surged between their bodies, relaxing her, soothing her… She gasped. The energy was as blue as this room and her meditations, a calming, unifying spirit of peace. It was an energy they shared. She and Isaac knew each other – her soul recognised his. This breathtaking revelation stunned her into silence and despite her better judgement her body softened under his. She trusted her instinct and intuition as all Lokians did, trained from birth to listen to her spirit and connect with the true reality hidden beneath the illusions of humankind.

“Good, that’s good, Talia, relax.” Isaac’s voice was a tender whisper in her ear. “I want you to listen to me now. You will never run from me again. Never. There will be severe consequences if you do. This time I will forgive you, but I will not be so lenient again.”

She slowly absorbed this information, repeating his words over and over inside her head. One thing stood out. Isaac had the capacity for fairness and compassion; he was giving her this one chance. This king was human.

“And now we will start again.”

He moved his other arm from underneath her so her naked body met the cold stone floor. She wriggled without anticipating escape. It was a tiny, impotent gesture of autonomy, letting him know she would always be Talia, an independent, sentient being, whatever he decided to do with her as his slave. He took hold of her wrists and held her arms above her head, his grasp firm yet surprisingly gentle. A sickening pain coursed through her injured shoulder, twisting agonisingly in her empty belly.

“Ah.”

The sickness surged from her belly to her throat, evading her weak attempt at restraining it. She gagged once, twice, and a horrible little choking sound entered the blue room along with Isaac’s heavy breathing.

“No, Talia, no. Do not test my patience, I know I am not hurting you.”

“Ah!”

The pain was excruciating, knife-sharp slashes of agony rippling through her shoulder. Her head swam, unable to bear both his anger and the pain, and vomit surged violently into her mouth. The noise was disgusting, ugly, retching sounds from deep within her foodless belly as the pain in her shoulder demanded an expression. She spluttered over the cold stone floor, her face squashed against it. She could barely breathe.

“What the…!”

Isaac pulled her up against him as bile dribbled down her chin onto her bare breasts. She was naked. Somehow she had forgotten that; modesty was the very least of her concerns.

Isaac folded her convulsing body into his arms. His chest was warm and hard and smelt of sandalwood and orange blossom. Smelt like home. She spluttered in shock, and yet more bile exploded from her mouth and landed on his snow white shirt. She stared at it, wailing like a banshee, certain this transgression would herald the advent of unimaginable torture. She no longer cared about the serenity expected of a Lokian visionary. She was an animal, reduced to primitive expression of suffering and pain.

“No.”

His voice was soft but more menacing than a raised voice could ever be. What horrors lurked beneath his inscrutable demeanour, horrors she could not begin to imagine? Loud, explosive anger was easy to understand but this man was an enigma. In her mind, he had become a jumble of monstrous myths and fables juxtaposed with his strangely tender manner. And what was that hideous noise? That high-pitched moaning and screaming, that sound of absolute devastation and despair? Whatever it was, it was followed by more retching and more bile dribbling down her chin. She shook her head frantically as Isaac cradled her against him. Her hands flailed wildly, tearing his shirt open, and she stared in terror as more bile landed on his hair-covered chest. She was in such trouble now! It was a ludicrous thought to have at such a traumatic moment for what could be worse than this? The unthinkable unknown, the horrors of the blue room… Her mouth opened in a silent scream as she stared into ridiculously beautiful sky blue eyes.

“Stop it, Talia, stop this right now. I am not going to hurt you. You can trust me, calm down.”

This astounding information was delivered in a matter-of-fact manner as if she were a fool to think otherwise. Her intuitive powers were compromised, but she instinctively knew the truth. Isaac was capable of empathy and compassion, even for his Lokian slave. She was stunned into silence, eerily calm as she stared, dazed, into his impossibly tender eyes. Tender, haunted eyes.

“Why have you brought me here, Your Majesty? Why is this blue room important to you?”

She knew the blue room was the answer to everything – if Isaac answered her question truthfully, she would understand the mystical essence of his soul. She was a revered Lokian, the most gifted of them all, and was only just beginning to understand the extent of her visionary powers. And amidst her confusion and fear, one thing shone crystal-clear. The blue room was the key to Isaac, would tell her everything she needed to know.

“You are my slave, Talia. You do not question me. You know why you are here and you know what will happen between us. You are a Lokian visionary, you understand these things. Now you must accept them.”

His voice was cold, commanding, but he was in awe. Of her. Her spiritual gifts threatened him. She threatened him.

She threatened King Isaac, the most powerful man in the land.

She had no time to make sense of her intuition for the change in Isaac made her catch her breath. The tenderness had left his eyes to be replaced with cold detachment, striking new terror into her soul. Tender one moment, cold and cruel the next? This she could not bear – it was torture of the wickedest kind. Isaac had told her she could trust him, and then he had confirmed the terrible truth. She was to be his slave, his plaything; his world was the dark, soulless place she had been fighting against all her life. She could no longer cling to the spectacular something in his eyes for her captor was playing with her emotions in the cruellest way possible. This beautiful man was truly evil.

“No!” She was furious with the tears coursing down her face but determined to be heard. “I will not, Your Majesty! I will not accept my fate! I will not restrain my emotions in the face of depravity and horror. If I am to be abused, tortured and debased, I will be myself while it happens! If I am to be stripped of my humanity, I will respond with my truth. You will see the devastation you are wracking on another sentient being! I will be myself until the moment I die.”

Isaac’s eyes narrowed, and the spectacular something emerged, battling for dominance within them. It was fighting with the powerful king, trying to convince him to pursue something new… a revolutionary course of action. She didn’t understand the spectacular something yet, but she knew all she needed to know. It was the unique spiritual magic in Isaac’s soul and was there because of her. It was a life-altering, profound thing, worthy of a Lokian.

Isaac rested his hand momentarily against her cheek before wiping her tears away. Everything he did confounded her.

“Who says you will die?”

His words implied there would be no end to her torment. It was just too much to bear. She was teetering on the edge of an emotional precipice, traumatised and irrational, veering from hope to despair in a frantic heartbeat and powerless to stop. She wailed louder than ever and struggled pathetically against his hold. The truth was it was unsettling her. She felt safe in his arms and that was foolish and deranged.

“How could you enjoy keeping me alive only to rape and humiliate me and prolong my suffering? You are tormenting an innocent being. Please just let me die! Please be merciful and make this quick. Do whatever you have to in order to gain your satisfaction, and then put me out of my misery. Show me the elevation of your character, Your Majesty. Prove you are worthy of being a king. Be merciful and let me die!”

His arms were like a vice around her as she pummelled ineffectively against his chest.

“This is impossible.”

What was that noise? That terrible wailing and moaning, the sound of an animal slowly being tortured to death? Where was it coming from? Her body was shaking… convulsing, jerking… what was happening to her? She had no control over herself anymore; her traumatised spirit had left her physical body to fend for itself. She was watching as her body disintegrated in Isaac’s arms, watching those exquisite eyes watching her right back with something akin to terror. This all-conquering king could not be afraid of her – she was pathetic, helpless. Isaac nodded, his beautiful mouth twitching, a look of grim resolution on his face.

“Alright, let’s do this.”

She screamed at his muttered words, steeling herself for the beginning of her nightmare, but nothing terrible happened. She screamed again as he pulled his shirt off, too scared to move let alone attempt escape. The eerie wailing grew louder and shocked her into total stillness. Where was it coming from? What strange being shared Isaac’s palace with him? An animal? A ghoul? Transfixed by the haunting anguish of the sound, she allowed Isaac to pull his shirt over her head and move her shaking arms into the sleeves as if she was a small child unable to dress herself. The shirt was warm from his body and smelt like him, musky, a little spicy, like sandalwood and cloves. It was delicious… and she was mad. In the pit of her stomach was an odd, unsettling mixture of terror and peace. Isaac pulled the shirt down over her trembling, uncooperative body; it was enormous, hanging loose past her hips, falling almost to her knees. Isaac’s eyes darkened but still nothing terrible happened. He simply scooped her up into his arms so her head lay against his shoulder, and marched towards the door. As he strode out onto the corridor that otherworldly sound continued to echo, that wail of supernatural terror, devastation and despair…

Isaac marched along endless, empty white stone corridors, striding through his palace of ghosts as their wailing became louder and more bone-chilling than ever. So many ghouls haunted his palace yet Isaac continued to march, bravely ignoring them all. Spectres could not scare this man – he was invincible. His lips brushed over the top of her head as his bare chest warmed her trembling body. She was safe. She closed her eyes as he marched on and on and on until…

A door opened. It was quiet inside. Peaceful. There were no ghouls here. They were alone at last. She clung to his neck and pressed her face into his warm, wet chest. Wet chest. Wet with her vomit and her tears. She lifted her head to stare into tender, empathetic eyes.

“That’s better, good little visionary.”

He narrowed his eyes, confusion clouding the sky blue. Her mouth fell open. What could he be confused about?

“You are not what I expected, Talia.”

She continued to gape like a fool. Her captor was talking to her, had called her by her Lokian name. This king was human.

He sat her on the edge of a magnificent four-poster bed, handling her as if she were a delicate piece of precious art. The bed’s blood red velvet curtains were drawn open but in one swift move Isaac could pull them around her, imprison her in the decadent sensual haven of a king. Panic began to rise in her belly, fluttering like tiny frightened birds, but staring into Isaac’s empathetic eyes made it disappear. Her eyes widened.

“Glad to see I can surprise you too.”

There was amusement in his voice. She blinked as he took a cornflower blue blanket from the foot of the bed and advanced slowly towards her as if she were a temperamental filly he was trying to tame. She instinctively shrank away.

“No. Don’t move.”

He laid the blanket beside her, his darkening eyes warning her to disobey at her peril. She trembled as he took hold of the crumpled shirt and pulled it unceremoniously over her head. She was naked again. This she did not like. She moaned softly as her heartbeat stuttered, but Isaac’s eyes did not leave hers. Nothing terrible happened. She watched as he walked to the bedside table and returned with a cloth and a jug of water. He sat beside her and gently wiped her vomit-stained chin. She was mesmerised, unable to believe the strange behaviour of this capricious king. She whined as he wiped the bile from her breasts, and a tiny smile played around the corners of his mouth. Her captor was enjoying this, gaining pleasure from her torment. That did not bode well for what lay ahead. When he was satisfied she was clean, he pulled her naked body against his. She whimpered with terror, but he ignored her, tenderly swaddling her trembling body as if she were a baby. She was helpless, at his mercy, but cocooned within the soft embrace of the blue blanket; how endangered could she really be? Isaac carefully laid her back against the soft pillows, and she felt her eyes grow as wide as her silly slack mouth. He clearly wasn’t planning on violating her anytime soon. She had at least a little time in which to learn about her captor so she could appeal to his higher nature. What was she thinking? He had stolen her from her home, brought her to his palace to be his slave – this man was not capable of compassion or remorse. She must not allow herself to be seduced by a few moments of kindness… or his beauty. His beauty. She whimpered. She was lost. Isaac was impossibly beautiful, his muscled chest a work of art. She stared shamelessly as he washed her vomit off his chest before pulling the stained shirt back over his head, the shirt still warm from her body. She shivered as it caressed his skin. Isaac was a king with a palace brimming with the very finest clothes, why would he wear a soiled shirt? A shirt that had travelled from his body to hers and back again. She knew this was an act of great significance but was too confused to process her thoughts and pathetically mesmerised by him. She stared vacantly for a few more moments before reluctantly tearing her eyes away. She needed to stop gawping and focus, find out what kind of room she was in.

And she was confronted by her worst nightmare…

The cage.

The cage. Seven foot of imposing metal stood in front of the long windows, confirming everything Cornicunians said was true. King Isaac was consumed by depravity, kept sexual slaves in his room.

Her.

She stared at the empty cage envisaging herself chained naked to the bars, helpless and at Isaac’s mercy. It was too much to bear. She swallowed as she forced her eyes away from hell, from the torment of the horror that awaited her. She was determined to learn something more about her captor, discover what this room revealed about him. Find something, however small, that might help her communicate with this man. It didn’t look like a torture chamber or sadistic den of debauchery, it was simply a luxurious bedroom fit for a king. Except for the cage. Sky blue velvet curtains at the windows, sky blue like Isaac’s eyes and her blue room. Her blue room… What did that mean? Her eyes flitted to the wall on her left, to the three paintings hanging there. The two of naked, entwined lovers reinforced the dark erotic promise of the cage. The third surprised her. An exquisite angel with serene golden eyes and breathtakingly beautiful snow white wings. Golden eyes and snow white wings… like her spirit animal, the angel hawk. Her angel hawk was with her here, circling overhead, calling her to fly to the spirit realms – but she resisted. She must stay in the mortal world and fight with her mind, battle to think clearly again. This room was scrambling her fuddled brain for it was full of contradictions, the juxtaposition of the spiritual and the sexually depraved a chilling yet intriguing sight. It fascinated her. If her mind was clear and unfettered her intuition would know what it meant. But she was confused and traumatised, and this room was confounding her. Her eyes reluctantly returned to the hideous monstrosity that exposed the truth about this beautiful king.

The cage. The work of the devil.

She looked into Isaac’s sky blue eyes, and they were dancing with amusement. He was smirking at her. It should have spoilt his beauty, but it didn’t. Nothing on God’s earth had the power to do that. He was a walking work of art: a dark angel with a finely muscled, powerful physique, lustrous black hair and hypnotic eyes. Oh, his eyes. The spectacular something lurking in their bottomless depths. He was perfect. And she was mad. Her stomach churned as her brain struggled to assimilate everything that had happened and began to shut down. It needed rest so badly. Her angel hawk soared overhead, sensing her pain and confusion, calling, again and again and again, inviting her to take refuge in the spirit realms…

“Talia.”

It was the voice of the angel in the painting. Mellifluous, deep and concerned.

“Talia.”

The angel was worried about her.

“Talia, look at me.”

She blinked and forced her eyes to focus as her angel hawk flew away. She was alone with Isaac and his mesmerising sky blue orbs.

“Thank God.”

Her face was wet again, but she wasn’t crying. Was she? Tears cascaded from her weary eyes, but she didn’t understand why they were there, didn’t understand anything anymore. Isaac’s hand cupped her cheek, and he sighed as if she was bewildering him. She rubbed her face against his hand and the pure healing energy of blue passed between them. Her eyelids fluttered closed as she relaxed into the peace of the moment, and Isaac sighed again, a sound of exasperation and unease. Her behaviour concerned him, but what did he expect? That she would be detached from this horror and calmly accept her terrible fate? That was not her. She would fight for her freedom until her last breath on mortal earth. It was the Lokian way. There was nothing to fear for what could be worse than the sacrifice of your soul?

“You are magnificent, Talia.”

He crooned in her ear as he folded her into his arms, her captor reassuring her. She should feel vulnerable, swaddled in the thick blanket, but all she felt was the swimming of her head and the shock of Isaac’s words. The sickness returned to her stomach, and her angel hawk called out again…

“No, Talia, no. Look at me, keep those exquisite eyes on mine.”

The compliments he paid her stunned her brain into activity, kept her mind focused on the here and now. Her angel hawk’s cries were persuasive, haunting… but Isaac had said she was magnificent and had exquisite eyes. What did that mean? She would stay in the mortal world and find out. She stared up at him. His face was a blur of otherworldly ethereal beauty, a dark angel seen through deluded, tear-consumed eyes.

“Open your mouth, Talia.”

Isaac held a flask in his hand. Katrina had given her water before she took her to the blue room but that was a lifetime ago. If she didn’t drink, her poor addled mind would become more disorientated than ever. But could she trust Isaac not to poison her? She shook her head as she opened her mouth, too confused and too thirsty to argue. Isaac’s mouth relaxed, the determined-set line softening into a sensuous curve that hinted at a sensitive disposition. Or maybe it was just a pretty mouth to match his pretty eyes, a cruel trick of nature. Only a foolish woman would be seduced by such superficial things.

“Drink, Talia.”

She was that foolish woman for she was mesmerised by her captor. She stared at his mouth as he pressed the flask lightly against hers, waiting for her to drink. He didn’t force her. What did that mean? Her intuition was infuriating her. It harassed her at every turn, but was erratic and befuddled, unable to make sense of the simplest of things. Isaac was her captor and master; he decided how she lived – and if she died. She had to analyse his every word and action, learn to understand him in order to survive. But she couldn’t clear her mind. The terror and tension in her body were inhibiting the smooth, easy flow of her spiritual gifts. Her muscles were tight and unyielding, and the sickness in her stomach was making her head spin. She needed to relax into a meditative state, focus on the spectacular something in Isaac’s eyes – but it was impossible. She shuddered, and Isaac pressed the flask firmly against her lips, silently ordering her to drink. She lost the will to fight and sipped obediently. Could she trust him? Was there truly kindness in his soul?

“It’s alright, Talia.”

The water was cold and pure with no aftertaste. She wanted more, but… Her shoulders shook and her lips trembled as she stared pleadingly into his eyes.

“Watch me, Talia.”

He raised the flask to his delectable lips and she watched his throat work as the water flowed down it. She was safe. She bit her lip and tried to move her arm free of the blanket, but it was trapped in the swaddling’s tight embrace. She scowled ferociously, her eyes fixed on the flask. Isaac chuckled, his sky blue eyes as warm as sunshine on a midsummer’s day.

“Would you like some more, Talia?”

She nodded. “Yes, please, Your Majesty.”

“What a polite little visionary you are,” he murmured as he held the flask to her lips. She sucked hard and drank far too fast, draining it completely. As the liquid reached her empty stomach, it churned violently and the sickening pain in her shoulder attacked again. She moaned, yearning for an end to her physical discomfort.

“Are you hungry, Talia?”

He used her name constantly, affirming her worth. He wasn’t treating her like a slave or an object, she wasn’t just a toy to him. Or was she? Was she simply a precious acquisition, an esteemed Lokian visionary to be added to his collection of treasured things? To be enslaved to his will. What did he want to achieve from her capture? Her people had done nothing wrong, peaceful and insular they had no interest in gaining power over the citizens of Cornicunia, but Isaac thought they did. His fear and mistrust lurked behind his sky blue orbs, haunting him and her. He was determined to destroy her Lokian gifts with the brute force of his masculinity.

“Breathe, Talia, and answer my question.”

She sucked in a huge lungful of air and stared deep into his eyes. He had said she could only do that if he gave her permission but now she was doing it all the time. She was victorious.

“Yes, Your Majesty, I am hungry but I… my shoulder hurts.”

It was an understatement for the pain was so sickening she could think of little else. It was dulling her mind and her senses, making her more vulnerable than ever.

“Your shoulder?” Isaac narrowed his eyes, the warmth in them retreating as his mouth set in a disapproving line. “Talia, do not play games with me. I haven’t hurt you. Playing games to attempt to win my sympathy will not work. I am impervious to the manipulations of the feminine mind.”

She was furious. The feminine mind? She was not part of a collective of women, she was Talia, Lokian visionary!

“Your Majesty, I was not intimating you caused my injury. Indeed, I know very well you did not. I told you because the pain is causing a sickness in my stomach and I don’t think I will be able to eat.”

The coldness left his eyes, the dark cloud disappearing to reveal the warmth of his compassion. It was wonderful to feel the sunshine again.

“You need to eat, Talia. Tell me what caused your injury.”

She swallowed. “Your soldiers, Your Majesty. They wrenched my arm when they captured me.”

Her voice was calm and steady, but Isaac’s eyes transformed into cold, hard sapphires, glittering with a malevolent fury that made her catch her breath. She would never be safe with this mercurial man, must never relax in his presence. She must always be alert, watchful for an imminent shift in his emotions, for he felt deeply and intensely and did not attempt to hide or control his feelings. For good or ill, Isaac exposed himself completely. Even as she shrank from his smouldering anger, she was strangely excited by this thought.

Isaac ran his hand over his head as he stared at her cowering against the pillows. She pushed herself down into them, trying to appear as small and inoffensive as possible. He shook his head, and his tense shoulders dropped, his eyes glinting with some unfathomable emotion.

“You will never be hurt again, Talia, I promise. Come here.”

He gestured imperiously, ordering his slave to submit to his will. He was a dominant man and sexually depraved, a fact made evident by the looming presence of the cage. Still, she did as she was told and shuffled forwards in her blanket. He nodded, the softness returning to his eyes.

“Good little visionary, good. I will have food brought for you, and while it is being prepared, I will attempt to ease your pain.”

She gaped like a fool. What was he going to do with her?

His glittering eyes remained fixed on hers as he stood and pulled at a long tasselled rope above the bedside table. A resounding ring echoed throughout the room, the peals loud and insistent. Within seconds there was a faint tap on the door.

“Enter!”

Katrina appeared, her soft brown eyes widening when they saw Talia on the bed.

“A little light supper, please, Katrina, some bread, cheese and anything else you think Talia might enjoy.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Katrina’s eyes swept over Talia, evaluating her condition. She was an attractive woman, only a little older than Talia, her chestnut curls prettily framing her heart-shaped face.

“Is there anything wrong, Katrina?”

Isaac’s lips twitched with amusement as Katrina shook her head.

“No, Your Majesty. Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Isaac smiled at Katrina as she scurried away, clearly nonplussed by Talia’s presence in the royal bedroom. As soon as she had left, Isaac stalked towards the bed, his eyes glinting, his lips curved in a predatory smile.

“Let’s get you ready for your supper, Talia.”

To her chagrin, she was cowering. His kindness unsettled her for she could not decide if it was genuine or a cruelly manipulative act. Was he masquerading as a man and not a monster, planning to attack when she had been lulled into a false sense of security? She trembled as he slid onto the bed beside her.

“Come here, Talia.”

He gestured impatiently, but she froze, fear sweeping through her veins.

“Come, Talia, come to me. It is your choice, I will not force you. You must learn to trust me, trust will be the basis of everything we experience together. You are my slave, but you will always have a choice.”

She blinked at him, confusion curdling her already addled mind. A slave had no will of her own. Yet he was offering her choice… or was he?

“Your Majesty… Please… May I ask what will happen if I choose not to do as you say?”

His eyes were calm and soft as if he had anticipated her question.

“I will persevere until you do. Trusting me will only result in good things, Talia. Once you make the choice to give yourself to me, you will realise that very quickly.”

“My shoulder… you will ease the pain?”

He raised his eyebrows. “I will increase it if you do not address me correctly.”

She swallowed, unsure if she was imagining the playful twinkle in his eyes. He reached out to brush a stray strand of hair away from her face. “I meant what I just said, Talia, I will punish you if you are disrespectful, but I will never hurt you. I know you do not understand this distinction yet, but you soon will. Tonight you do not need to worry about such things. Tonight we will consummate our union. Once I have made you mine it will be easier for you to adapt and accept your new circumstances. This is your life now and the sooner you embrace it, the happier you will be. Tomorrow we will begin your training, and you will learn how to behave and how to please me.”

Her mind was reeling. What was this cruelty? Isaac would treat her with kindness and respect tonight, talk to her as if she was a valued person, but in the morning he would revert to depravity and humiliation. She was unable to stop tears from flooding her eyes.

“Your Majesty, I would rather experience the truth from the start. It is cruelty of a most perverse nature to play with my emotions as you intend to do.”

His responding glower made her shrink back into the pillows.

“Play with you, Talia? That is exactly what I intend to do but not in the cruel manner you imply. I am going to initiate you gently, ensure you are comfortable experiencing intimacy with me before we progress with your training. It will be one small step at a time for both of us as we learn about each other. I want your trust in all things, Talia, and I cannot scare or force you into giving that trust. It must be won.”

…

“Talia? Talia, come back, don’t be scared. Let go of your preconceptions and trust me, that is the only thing you have to do. I will do the rest, I promise. Come back.”

Her head was fuzzy, the pain in her shoulder excruciating. Her angel hawk was circling overhead, calling her to fly with him to freedom, to the spirit realms, away from earthly fear and pain…

“Aah.”

“Trust me.”

Isaac’s mouth was in her hair, his hand on her shoulder. He had pulled the blanket away from her body and his fingers were moving deep into her tense muscles as if he was searching for a truth he knew was hiding there.

“Where were you, Talia? You looked at me without seeing me.”

There was wonder and awe in his eyes, and she felt a surge of feminine power. He knew this was her Lokian gift. Isaac feared her ability to escape the mortal world and travel to mystical realms he did not understand. He felt threatened by the most peaceful and benevolent of things, a magical delight that was winning the hearts and minds of his people. This all stemmed from his fear of losing his royal power and status… meaningless, material things when she had the spiritual blessing of her angel hawk. She felt sorry for Isaac, he was spiritually illiterate. She blinked up at him, compassion burning in her heart. She would teach him.

“You are such a sensitive creature, a most delightful challenge.”

“I am not a challenge, I am a person.”

“What you are is disrespectful, Talia. You need to remember to address me correctly at all times,” he murmured as he nuzzled her hair. Despite the reprimand, she felt cherished and safe as the power of the colour blue vibrated peacefully between them, summer skies and serene seas beckoning.

“Your Majesty, I am sorry, please forgive me, I… that hurts.”

“I know, I know, give me time.”

Time. He wanted time in all things… one step at a time he had said. Yet she would be intimate with him tonight, a man she had just met. It was overwhelming. Could she really accept her new life as his sex slave? If she was not to be dehumanised and abused, could she learn to accept some level of debasement? She didn’t know what this would entail, what he would do to her or expect her to do. The unknown was terrifying.

“I’m scared… of the unknown between us,” she whispered. “Your Majesty,” she added hastily as he moved his mouth from her hair.

“Beautifully expressed, Talia, but ask yourself how unknown will it really be? One step at a time, remember? Surely that is not so daunting, this is all just as unknown to me.”

“No, Your Majesty,” she gasped as the pain in her shoulder caused the sickness to twist in her stomach. “It is not. You know what you intend to do with me.”

He smiled, a genuine smile that caused his eyes to sparkle and crinkle at the edges. “I know the practicalities, Talia, that is all. Everything else is a mystery to me as it is to you. We will create our reality together; it will be an organic and unique thing. I have no idea what will happen when we begin your training tomorrow.”

She narrowed her eyes, and his sky blue orbs glinted dangerously.

“Speak, Talia, do not narrow your eyes at me. Ask me questions if you like, say all you have to say tonight, for tomorrow I will enforce rules for your behaviour and you will have to earn such privileges.”

His words should have made her weep but she did as he asked. If this was her last chance to speak she would take it.

“I believe His Majesty is attempting to win my trust by expressing his uncertainty regarding our union. His Majesty is very clever, it almost worked.”

He threw his head back and roared with laughter. It was surreal and unsettling to imagine this communicative equal becoming a domineering sexual despot at dawn.

“Not so clever if it only almost worked. You excite me, Talia. Training you will be a challenge unlike any other.”

Her heart quivered and sank into the bowels of despair. “It will be no challenge at all, Your Majesty, if I am forced to follow rules of behaviour and subjugated to your will. You hold all the power as you very well know.”

His fingers moved deep into her shoulder muscles, harsh and unrelenting, and she cried out in pain. The spectacular something burst unguarded into his eyes, but there was also irritation there. “You must learn to listen, Talia, tomorrow, it will be vital. As I told you earlier you will always have a choice. If you don’t choose to obey me, I am powerless. My challenge is to persuade you to trust me and willingly do everything I ask of you.”

He wanted to seduce her with his sensual skills, corrupt a pure, gifted Lokian. Did he plan to enact the same ritual with all Lokian women? Would he have the women of his court seduce and ensnare the Lokian men? It was so ridiculous a thought it could be plausible, but she sensed he would tell her no more tonight. His eyes were becoming colder by the second and she did not want to antagonise him. Conversation would prepare her for her fate, whatever it was to be. She had to try to forge some kind of bond with him for the union of their bodies was looming ominously in her mind. She needed his empathetic, tender eyes to guide her through their intimacy, not these cold, distant ones. She wanted warmth to burn brightly between them even though she was mad to think of such a thing. Isaac was her captor, not her lover; he wanted to discover her Lokian secrets, not share her innermost thoughts and dreams. Yet they shared the spiritual energy of the colour blue and the spectacular something in his eyes was there because of her. Confusion washed over her again, and she could not stop her thoughts from entering the universe.

“Will you take me to the blue room tomorrow, Your Majesty?”

His reluctance to discuss it was haunting her. Blue, her spiritual colour and their shared energy… It was not an accident. There was no such thing as coincidence, all Lokians knew that. This was pertinent, profound even. Blue room. She needed to know why he had taken her there, it was achingly relevant, a vital clue to understanding this man.

“I will not discuss what I intend to do with you tomorrow, Talia. Tonight you may say whatever you need to say but on this I am immovable.”

She set her jaw as determinedly as he set his and saw him repress the smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. His eyes were warm again so she was bold.

“You said I could ask you anything, Your Majesty.”

“Yes, but I didn’t say I would answer everything you asked. If you know what to expect from your training it will detract from its impact. I told you, this is all about trust. If you are unprepared for what will happen you will have to learn to trust me.”

She stared boldly into his unfathomable eyes. The pain in her shoulder was easing as his skilled fingers manipulated her muscles. Isaac was easing her pain. Surely that was a good sign for the future? Or did it mean nothing at all? Was he merely keeping her calm to ensure the success of his mission tonight, copulation with the Lokian visionary?

“Everything I do and say tonight will inform how you train me, won’t it, Your Majesty?”

He was no longer trying to restrain his smirk. He clearly found her entertaining so why did he want to control her? Why did she need this training? It wouldn’t help him learn her spiritual secrets, it made no sense at all. She had never felt more confused. He brushed his fingers over her shoulder, the teasing caress a portent of things to come. Her body betrayed her spirit’s attraction to her captor, trembling with sweet anticipation, not dread. Her sex softened, became warm and wet and heavy. Isaac’s attentions were not unwelcome to her…

“You are too clever for your own good, Talia.”

She bit her lip. “If I anger you, Your Majesty… you can make tomorrow truly terrible for me.”

He rolled his eyes in good-natured exasperation. “Your training is not intended to be a terrible experience, a thing for you to dread. You are approaching this all wrong, Talia. Listen to what I am saying, this is all about trust.”

“All about control,” she whispered, and his strong fingers thrust into her muscles, unforgiving and brutal. Her words had hit a nerve and the pain was her punishment for displeasing him. This was her life now…

“Ah! That hurts.”

“Relinquishing control… that is what this is about, Talia. That is real trust. And that is what I want from you.”

“Why do you desire this so deeply, Your Majesty? You have me under your control. Why does it matter if I give myself freely to you?”

He raised his eyebrows. “You are breathtakingly clever, Talia. I’m sure you can work it out for yourself.”

She took a shaky breath, the air refusing to reach her straining lungs.

“I am the most gifted of Lokian visionaries, and if you win my trust you gain understanding of my people, how our minds work.” Her voice was tiny but she knew it was the truth.

He held her away from him and stared deep into her eyes.

“Yes, that’s it, Talia, what other reason could there be?”

 

 

The Cage

He refused to allow her to feed herself, ordering her to open her mouth, treating her like a recalcitrant child. A precious child. He fed her bread and cheese as his words hung ominously over them, heightening the tension in the room. What other reason could there be? It was not a rhetorical question. Isaac was inviting her to analyse his intentions and examine the machinations of his mysterious mind, but she was incapable of logical thought. He had scrambled her brain, muddled her intuition and spiritual awareness until she could no longer decipher fiction from truth. Why was her new master tenderly feeding her by hand? Surely this was not normal captor/captive behaviour even in his strange world? It must all be part of his evil plan. Isaac craved her absolute trust and the simple nurturing act of feeding her bonded them on a primal level. He was sating her appetite, ensuring her most essential needs were met. Treating her like a precious child. What did it mean? If he wanted to assert his power, he could make her eat and drink disgusting things or force her to… that would happen later. The sudden lump in her throat made it impossible to swallow.

“What’s wrong, Talia?”

She retched as the bread refused to journey down her constricted passageway and lodged firmly in her throat, making it difficult to breathe. Isaac cupped his hand around her chin and stared deep into her watering eyes.

“It’s alright, Talia, spit it out.”

His tenderness dissolved the lump in her throat and the bread slid down, happily continuing its journey. She whimpered, and Isaac stared at her in disbelief.

“What’s going on inside your head, Talia? Tell me, you need to eat.”

“Will you force me?”

“Force you? No. You said you were hungry.”

“That’s not what I meant… I was not referring to eating, Your Majesty.” She dropped her head and peered up at him from under her eyelashes, steeling herself for his response.

“Will I fuck!”

The words exploded in passion and fury, his intensity saturating the room. She trembled, her teeth chattering with fear at this primal threat to her safety. Isaac was volatile, unpredictable and intense. It was a terrifying combination. A devastatingly exciting combination. A tiny incoherent moan escaped from the corner of her mouth, but she was no longer afraid of Isaac. She was afraid of herself. Her response was irrational and twisted; this arrogant king had already seduced her and enslaved her to his dark will.

She wanted him. Wanted his emotion and intensity inside of her.

Wanted him inside of her.

Isaac’s eyes narrowed as he drew in a long breath of air. “What do I have to do to make you listen to me, Talia? To open your mind and really hear what I say?”

His voice was even and calm now. Reassuring. He thought he was the cause of her fear, if only he knew the shameful truth. But her indignation overrode all her other feelings.

“Your Majesty, I am not a fool, so please don’t treat me like one. I do not have a closed mind. I am captive here! How can you expect me to trust you when you abducted me from my home? I am here against my will. I am your prisoner! You took me to the blue room but refuse to answer my questions about that. You won’t explain anything and my lack of knowledge is stoking my fear. All I can think of are your infamous rooms of torture and wonder what horror lies ahead of me here. There are things in this palace I cannot even begin to imagine, and that terrifies me. The unknown between us terrifies me,” she repeated emptily as she began to wilt and lose courage under the onslaught of his smouldering eyes. The spectacular something lurked deep within them, but was dominated by quiet menace. She had no idea what he would do or say next, and she didn’t think he did either. The unknown was truly terrifying. Isaac’s mercurial nature was terrifying. She had never been in such an unsettling, vulnerable situation, one moment reassured by his tenderness, the next left quaking from his anger. He expected too much of her, more than any sensitive human being could bear. She was his captive, but he didn’t seem to understand why she was scared and confused. He had an all-encompassing sense of entitlement as well as a tempestuous nature and that made him more dangerous than ever. Her stomach lurched more each passing second of his silence, but she boldly met his eyes. They glittered ferociously, but he did not shout or curse or threaten her with violence. He did something far more shocking…

He took her hand in his.

Her head was swimming again, giddy and disorientated, but not from fear or confusion. Her angel hawk was circling overhead, his cries soft and soothing, but she was not tempted by his call. The sensation of her hand in Isaac’s was more seductive than the spirit realms, their shared energy vibrating through their skin. And Isaac’s eyes were consumed by the spectacular something, and that told her everything.

This was where she was meant to be. In this room, on this bed, her hand in Isaac’s. This was her destiny. One thing shone clear through the fog and confusion in her mind. You were always where you were meant to be however difficult it was to believe at times. This was just part of her journey through life, a lesson from the spirit realms. She would not let them down. She would learn her lesson and her soul would be enriched by this experience.

Somehow.

And then Isaac frowned, blinked twice, and the spell was broken.

“The unknown between us does not include torture and suffering, Talia, it only requires your absolute trust. Without trust, we have nothing. All you need to know is you can trust me. Together we will discover what our unknown is.”

Together. She stared into his intense eyes as she absorbed this astounding information. Together. Isaac knew. Somewhere in the untapped mystical potential of his soul, he knew the truth. This was their joint destiny, whatever that might turn out to be.

“Your Majesty, if I trust you… will there be kindness and tenderness between us?”

It meant everything to her. She could cocoon her soul within spiritual walls, draw sky blue veils around it, protecting it from harm, but separating the body from the spirit during sexual communion was not the Lokian way. The spirit should always be present for such a sacred act. She had to fight to bring Isaac into her reality, not be seduced by his – fight for tenderness and respect.

He turned her hand over in his and ran his thumb lightly over her palm. The strength and beauty of their shared energy flowed powerfully between them, radiating through his skin to hers. His touch made her tingle, sent intense, pleasurable shivers through her body and soul. At this moment she trusted him completely.

“Talia, you are overthinking this. The intellect is not involved during the sexual act; it is a primitive, instinctive thing. All you need to do is relinquish your control and surrender to me. Soon you will look back in wonder at this conversation and realise it didn’t help you understand anything. Surrender, and allow your primal emotions to guide you, and I will do the rest. Trust me, Talia, you won’t regret it, I promise.”

She swallowed. How was it possible to be so scared and yet feel so safe at the same time? She was expected to embrace intimacy with her captor, but he refused to reassure her with promises of kindness and tenderness. His emphasis was on primitive sexual connection, not the communion of two souls. In matters of the spirit, he was a child, and it was her responsibility to enlighten him. She vowed to remain faithful to her Lokian ideals whatever happened between them tonight.

“You want me to be your slave, Your Majesty.”

“You have been my slave since you arrived at my palace,” he murmured, examining her eyes with his impossibly beautiful ones. “Now we have to discover what that means for us.”

“For us?”

He glowered as he moved his hand abruptly from hers, leaving her bereft and floundering at her time of need. Her curiosity was angering him and she did not want to couple with an angry Isaac, but she could not relinquish autonomy on the last night it was hers. It was precious but completely at odds with Isaac’s need for control.

“Eat.” He pressed a piece of cheese against her mouth and she opened obediently, praying this small gesture of compliance would appease him. She had to be practical; her stomach was growling with hunger and she needed to be physically strong for the trials ahead. “Good, little visionary, that’s good. All you need to do is take care of yourself. You are overly preoccupied with a day that has not yet dawned. I want you to focus only on this moment in time and nothing else. That is your first rule.”

“I thought you were not implementing my rules until tomorrow, Your Majesty,” she whispered through a mouthful of cheese. He smirked.

“You are determined to cling to every last moment of liberty, Talia. It should help you focus on the here and now. Eat.”

Isaac ate little, focused only on sating her appetite, thinking of her needs and not his own. It was a powerful statement of intent. Her mind was jumbled with conflicting information, but this shone through her confusion like a beacon of light. Isaac was considering her feelings so she would do as he had asked her to do. She would trust her captor. It was probably a terrible mistake, foolhardy, stupid and reckless – but it was all she could do. Every bite she took led her closer to the abyss, to the end of this meal and the coupling Isaac had promised would happen tonight.

Promised, not threatened…

Trust.

Isaac had promised to initiate her gently. She had to trust he had spoken the truth. She had to believe in miracles if she was to survive tonight emotionally intact. She must remember the peace of her hand in his, the strength and beauty of their shared spiritual energy, and retain those feelings when his body was united with hers.

Somehow she must share this experience with Isaac, show him the wonder of spiritual connection. She would cling to her mission of converting him to the Lokian way for she would not be converted to his…

Katrina returned to draw the long curtains, collect the empty plates and replenish the jugs of water. She moved quietly and efficiently around the room, but could not hide her questioning eyes and furtive glances. Katrina was trying to understand what was happening between her king and Talia. Talia wished she understood.

Katrina left, and Isaac sprang into action. The time for questions was over; he had decided they had talked enough and that was that. Nothing was negotiable. She was no longer a free spirit in control of her own choices. Whether it was deciding what to wear or eat or how she spent her time, the choice was now Isaac’s. Her new master owned her body and all it did. But he would never own her spirit. Trust was one thing, surrender something else…

Isaac stared into her eyes as he removed her swaddling, peeling away her protection without ceremony as only a master would. The spectacular something surged into his eyes, keeping her vulnerability at bay. It was Isaac’s truth, the essence of his soul. Whatever it was, she could trust it. It was his gift from the spirit realms.

Her breath caught as he stood and began to undress, her heart thumping with a disconcerting mixture of excitement and dread. Soon they would be equal in the vulnerable state of nakedness, exposed and laid bare to each other. He pulled off his shirt, the shirt that had clung to her body on the long walk from the blue room. It smelt of Isaac, of sandalwood, orange blossom and musk, and now it smelt of her too. She and Isaac merged, their scents united as their bodies were destined to be. She swallowed as she stared at his muscular chest and the powerful arms that had carried her here. His beauty was bewitching. However hard she tried to concentrate on the softness in his eyes, she could not. The magnetic allure of his body was too compelling, their shared energy too powerful to resist. It coursed through their blood, surged through their veins, an irresistible and mystical magic. Isaac was inextricably connected to her, but he was also her opposite: masculine versus feminine, strength and brute force versus fragility and softness. She stared blatantly at his body, trying to force the familiarity and intimacy that took years of love and tenderness to build. It was the only way she could survive tonight. Lokians needed intimacy like they needed oxygen to breathe, but could she find that blessed gift here? With her captor? Her master? Her eyes returned to his. This was the way to forge a bond, not by staring lasciviously at his body.

“So, you like what you see, Talia. Good, I want you to enjoy tonight as much as I will.”

She was unashamed of her wantonness. The naked body was a beautiful, natural thing and Isaac clearly felt that way too. He had left all the lamps alight, demanding she experience this daunting act under their penetrating glare. There was nowhere for her to hide. Isaac wanted to experience uninhibited sensual pleasure, something she would normally embrace but this was not normal, not a loving act between soulmates and equals. Her heart thumped and her head spun as the conflict between attraction and terror escalated and became too violent to bear. Her visionary ideals were battered and bewildered, condemned to endure a destiny they did not understand.

But this was her destiny, a lesson she must learn. She swallowed hard and grimly concentrated on Isaac, determined to learn her lesson well. She must trust in the spirit realms – they always had a plan.

Isaac pulled off his boots, each discarded piece of clothing leading her closer to the moment of reckoning, the point of no return, union with the devil. She was not Isaac’s beloved bride, she was his slave to be used and debased. She shuddered as he unbuckled his belt.

“You are perfection, Talia.”

He dropped his trousers, and her mouth fell open at the magnificent sight. Strong, powerful thighs, taut muscled abdomen and…

She had been wrong. Isaac was not vulnerable in his nakedness. That was a woman’s burden. Her head swam as she stared, transfixed by his enormous erection. Demanding and majestic, it was as assured and domineering as its owner, making no apology for its arrogance. It was proud of its beauty, its supreme masculine potency… proud of what it was about to do to her.

“Shush, Talia, it’s alright.”

He slid onto the bed alongside her and a soft moan of terror echoed around the room. The ghouls had followed them here. Isaac’s palace was a refuge for disturbed souls, aimless, wandering spirits without a home.

Terrified, disorientated visionaries far from home…

The sound was coming from her.

“Come here.”

She remembered everything Isaac had told her. This was her choice. She didn’t understand how but it was. She had to make this move, not him. She stared at the enormous erection straining impatiently towards her, the veins standing out against its monstrously swollen girth. Isaac’s manhood was magnificent – and powerful, an irresistible instrument of love and pleasure or a deadly weapon of torture and despair. Which would it be tonight? Its owner chuckled, unabashed by her fascination with his member.

“Talia, I am mortally offended. Look at my eyes, not my cock.”

She raised her eyes, unashamed at being caught ogling her king.

“Come here,” he repeated, only the faintest whisper of urgency in his voice. His eyes were soft and playful, the spectacular something obliterating everything else that had been lurking there. It reigned supreme. She took a deep breath and crawled into his embrace.

He wrapped his arms around her in a possessive yet cherishing hold, capturing her within the inescapable carnal web of a king. She was cocooned in his strong arms and the tenderness in his eyes was overwhelming; Isaac was taking pleasure in their intimate embrace. This was not an emotionless man driven by riches and power, this king had genuine warmth in his soul. His chest hair tickled her breasts and his heart thudded against them as if he was terrified too, but that could not be right.

“Good little visionary,” he murmured into her hair. “You are exquisite, Talia. Let me show you just how exquisite you are.”

His swollen manhood throbbed against her belly as if agreeing with its owner’s words. It would not wait long for its pleasure. She whimpered pathetically and rubbed her nose against his face in silent entreaty, for what she did not know. He instantly responded, nuzzling his face against hers as if they had been sweethearts since the beginning of time. Somehow they were bypassing hours of conversation and forging an intimate connection in an otherworldly way. She stared into his eyes, liquid blue like the ocean, flooded with desire and tenderness and something she did not yet understand. The unique magic in Isaac’s soul. Her heart melted and foolishly allowed her captor to invade it before reforming as a new thing. It was part of Talia that now held Isaac tenderly within its midst.

“Trust me, Talia, that’s all you have to do, remember?”

“Trust,” she whispered for that was exactly what she was remembering. It was the only thing in her mind. She had trusted Isaac enough to allow him inside of her heart and now he was flowing through her veins alongside her blood, part of her as she was part of him. She was ready now – for this. For him.

She clung to the softness in his eyes as he brushed his knuckles over her cheek, every moment of tenderness increasing their intimacy. They stared into each other’s eyes for an eternal moment – and she watched in horror as everything changed. A dark shadow slowly eclipsed the spectacular something, her dreams destroyed by anger and mistrust. She trembled against Isaac’s newly taut muscles, petrified by the rigid tension in his body, shielding his soul and blocking her out.

Something was very wrong…

And then he scooped her up into his arms and marched towards the cage.

She clung to his shoulders, her head spinning as he strode inside and deposited her unceremoniously onto the cold stone floor. Her fingers curled around his bare skin, but he prised himself free, breaking the connection of their spirits and breaking her heart.

“Soon, Talia, soon.”

His whispered words were drenched with erotic promise and the spectacular something was fighting to stay in his eyes. But there was something else there too now, something monstrous, and it was winning the battle. It was cold and unyielding, defensive and hard, and it was building a wall between them. A sky blue wall designed to keep Talia out. Isaac was in hiding, denying the spiritual energy they shared, using every shred of his formidable will to construct impenetrable barriers around his heart. She stared, paralysed by fear and confusion, the unknown between them a terrifying thing. She had opened her heart and let Isaac in, and this horror was her reward. The spirit realms were punishing her for past life sins tonight. Isaac stared silently back at her, his eyes betraying nothing, and strode from the cage without another word. He padlocked the door as if she were a captive animal, a merciless predator toying with his prey before ripping out its heart and destroying it. She whimpered as he threw on his crumpled shirt and trousers and left the room without a backward glance.

She was alone again. Shocked. Numb.

She crouched on the cold stone floor, her bare feet icy against the bars of the cage, and shivered at the cruel chill in the air. The world was dark outside the long windows, as black as Isaac’s twisted soul with not a solitary star to guide her through the hell she was living. Night had fallen on her life and on Isaac’s palace, and it was freezing her body and her soul. The cornflower blue blanket that had been wrapped around her lay crumpled and discarded on the floor. Rejected and unloved just like her. She gazed at it longingly but knew even the warmest of blankets would leave her chilled now. Her spirit was frozen, splintering into knife-sharp icicles intent on piercing her foolish heart. How could Isaac do this to her? He had mercilessly seduced her only to revert to the role of cruel captor, leaving her naked and freezing in his cage. Where had he gone? And why? She had done everything he asked her to do, such a good little Lokian slave. His behaviour was barbaric. She shuddered and hugged her arms tightly around her breasts, trying to warm her painfully erect nipples, comfort the tiny taut pebbles tormenting her. She should be lying in Isaac’s bed, his lips caressing her warm breasts while their shared spiritual energy flowed between them. Instead – this.

Isaac had lied to her, there would be no gentle introduction to intimacy. No warmth between them. No trust. He was inhumane. He had manipulated her, seduced her, expertly executed his evil plan. Defeated her so easily it was shameful and destroyed her peace of mind. Isaac had won. He had reduced a Lokian visionary to a pile of helpless mush, her sanity scarcely intact. She could barely breathe and barely think, her mind a sluggish, confused mess. Her spiritual gifts had deserted her, so who was she now? Who was Talia? Her mind spun as her grip on her identity became fragile and tenuous. Who was she? Now Isaac had invaded her heart she didn’t know anymore. She shivered as she battled against her rising panic, focusing on breathing slowly and deeply and trying to quieten her thumping heart. Who was Talia? She no longer had any concept of herself at all. Once you began questioning the voice inside your head, the only way was madness and despair. She had lived twenty-nine summers with the voice of Talia and one night with Isaac had ripped it away from her. Somewhere in the distance her angel hawk was calling, reminding her of who she used to be. Before Isaac, before the devil seduced her with his beauty. A Lokian visionary beguiled by the illusions of the mortal world – it was pathetic. Despite the cold, her face grew hot with shame. She was pitiful, had capitulated so easily.

She stared at the iron bars surrounding her, at the manacles hanging from the cage. What torture and humiliations would Isaac inflict on her tonight? The unknown was infinite – and terrible. She was trapped with Isaac in hell for all eternity. Her heart raced so fast the room spun around her and her throat began to close, her breath reduced to shaky, desperate little gasps. She would die here tonight in this cursed cage – alone, unloved and conquered.

She pressed herself back into the bars, and the pain of unforgiving metal cutting into her tender flesh was strangely comforting. She was still alive, could still feel. Her soul was not frozen, she was still Talia. Isaac had not destroyed her yet. Her angel hawk’s cries were shrill and insistent, inviting her to fly to the spirit realms, escape the cruelty of the mortal world. Escape Isaac. Her stomach lurched, the bread and cheese curdling inside it, roiling together with her trauma and despair. She couldn’t leave her body undefended, take the coward’s path and run away. She was a Lokian visionary! She must stay in this stinking cage and fight, pray for the strength of character that would sustain her through the night and whatever horror it might bring.

She needed courage and spiritual resilience as she had never needed them before, but could find them only in the most foolhardy of places. She squeezed her arms around her chest, crushing her body, holding herself together as she acknowledged the terrible truth. However hard she tried to deny it only one thought would take shape in her mind. She was clinging to the impossible, to a miracle, believing in a dream when she was living a nightmare. Instead of concentrating on calming her agitated mind, she was thinking of only one thing.

Her new mantra. The pointless mantra of a foolish, deluded woman.

She was thinking of one hopeless, illusionary thing.

The spectacular something in Isaac’s eyes…

 

 

Isaac’s Mission

Fuck, she had got to him already! This was bad, very, very bad… but what had he expected? She was a Lokian visionary after all. He had felt the power of her magical gifts from the start, with his very first look into her mesmerising turquoise eyes.

He strode along the corridors, shaking his head violently but was unable to shake Talia out. She had taken root in his mind, his heart, his soul, his cock… It ached for her and her alone, no other woman would do, his world revolved around Talia. He tried to convince himself he had locked her in the cage because she was ready to start her training, but it was a lie. Lying was easier than the truth. The truth was terrifying. He had to put distance between them, imprison her magical powers within the narrow confines of the cage. It was the only way he felt even a modicum of control. He was floundering, bewildered by Talia’s effect on him. She had bewitched him, and he couldn’t control her glorious mind by simply locking her in the cage. He was helpless against her Lokian sorcery. He sighed, irritated by the relentless thumping inside his head that was making it impossible to think clearly. He had brought Talia here to learn about her mystical mind; he must be strong, resist her magic, not allow her to distract him from the game…

His game was intricate, a complex creation, designed to seduce and beguile. It ensnared and enslaved its hapless victims, turning them into adoring, willing worshippers of his splendour, of King Isaac’s dominion over the world.

The game always worked – it was inspired, a masterpiece, his gift… but he had a horrible feeling Talia’s gifts were greater…

He would not allow her to beat him at his own game; whatever it took, he would win this battle. He would do anything and everything to learn her secrets and win her undying devotion. Talia was the most revered of Lokians, at only twenty-nine summers worshipped by a people who genuflected at the wisdom of age. Her spiritual gifts were magnificent, awe-inspiring; she would be his greatest challenge. He would learn all about her, become intimate with her body in order to become intimate with her mind. He would enchant her with his sensual skills, bless her with so many earth-shattering orgasms that she would unwittingly disclose all the terrifying magical secrets of her people. She would be a quivering mass of love-struck woman, living only for the pleasure she would experience in his hands. Talia may be an acclaimed Lokian visionary, but he was the most gifted of lovers. She would be no match for him. His sexual prowess would ensure his victory. But Talia was a sensitive and spiritual woman, he would have to proceed with care.

He shuddered at the prospect of taking an unwilling woman, a sinking feeling sickening his stomach. He would never force himself on her, the thought was repugnant. The first time he looked into her eyes, a thunderbolt had hit, crashing through his world and creating it anew. There was something magical between him and Talia, and he knew she felt it too. He prayed it would ease the way for their physical union, help overcome her fears. Sex was something special to Talia, something profound he did not understand. She confounded him. Her enormous turquoise eyes searched his constantly, probing his soul, looking for God knows what and probably finding it. It was impossible to hide from her. Talia was magical. Her eyes were fathomless, as deep and mysterious as the ocean they resembled. Talia made his cock stiffen and stand to attention in a permanent erection bigger and harder than any he had ever experienced before. Her creamy skin, flowing auburn hair and curvaceous body were irresistible, but her beguiling physical beauty paled in comparison to the breathtaking spiritual wonder of her eyes. Those eyes. He had been doomed from the start, mesmerised by the intensity radiating between them, by the mystical knowledge in her eyes. He had ordered Katrina to take her away without saying a word to her, had acted like the arrogant, all-powerful king, but his mind had been in turmoil and had remained so ever since. What was Talia doing to him? Lokian magic was a terrifying and wonderful thing. He knew now why the people of Cornicunia were enchanted by it. Yet he still retained a little power of his own for Talia’s eyes never left him, as bewitched by him as he was by her…

“Isaac! I didn’t expect to see you wandering around the palace tonight.”

Abraham. His friend and most trusted advisor, the only man permitted to call him by his given name. Isaac sighed heavily. He could hide nothing from Abraham.

“Isaac? Are you conflicted about Talia?”

Straight to the point. They knew each other too well to indulge in idle pleasantries.

“I’m fine… if Talia is.”

Abraham nodded, his soft brown eyes not leaving Isaac’s. “Just as I thought, what you are planning is not easy. How is Talia?”

How is Talia? If only he knew. How could he be expected to understand her mysterious Lokian mind?

“She is scared and confused, but we have talked and come to an understanding. I needed a little time away from her to consider how to proceed. I’m going to take this slowly, Abra. I will not fail in my mission. I need to learn about the Lokians’ hold over my people, discover if my reign is under threat. Talia’s mind is my key to that understanding – but I will only learn the truth if she trusts me. She has to submit willingly, I won’t do this any other way. I don’t want to break her.”

“Of course you don’t.”

Isaac stared into Abraham’s all-seeing eyes and sighed again. His friend’s past life in the church had given him an uncanny ability to sense the spiritual conflicts and yearnings of others – and none more so than Isaac. Sometimes it was impossible to believe they were the same age for Abraham possessed a wisdom seldom found in one so young.

“I am finding it impossible to remain objective, maintain distance between me and Talia. I feel her emotional distress as if it is my own. What’s happening to me, Abra?”

“You’re asking me, Isaac?”

“Well, I certainly don’t understand it.”

Abraham stared soulfully into Isaac’s eyes. That stare said everything.

“I don’t think you have to understand it. Simply allow yourself to feel your truth and express it to Talia. That is the key to making her happy.”

“What the fuck does that mean, Abraham?”

Isaac rarely became exasperated with his friend but Abraham was undeterred. He clasped Isaac’s shoulder firmly, refusing to avert his eyes from his hostile glare.

“The Lokian way is a spiritual one, Your Majesty, Talia will respond to the truth in your soul. You feel I am overcomplicating the issue, but I am doing the very opposite. This is the simplest thing you will ever do, if…” Abraham allowed that tiny word to linger ominously for a moment before he continued, “If you open your mind to a different aspect of your character, an aspect neglected for many years. You are a young king, Isaac, only thirty-three summers, and because of your parents’ untimely deaths, you have borne much responsibility all your life. Allow yourself to be Isaac the man, not the king. I know a little of Isaac and he is a good, compassionate man. I admire him. I love him. Now you must discover him – and allow Talia to discover him too.”

After his mind-boggling speech, Abraham did what no other man at the palace would dare to do – he smiled enigmatically before walking away leaving Isaac with more questions than answers. Isaac shook his befuddled head as he watched his friend disappear around the corner and steeled himself for his return to his room. He had to face the magical little creature in his cage. This was not to be one night of carnal pleasure with a willing slave. Tonight was different from anything that had gone before, and he had no idea what would happen or how to deal with it when it did…

So he stormed back into the room like a man possessed, all fake bluster and command. He strode up to the cage, deliberately intimidating Talia with his powerful physical presence, and watched in fascination as her eyes grew wild and her body trembled with fear. He should feel guilty for scaring her, but he only felt irritation. She had to learn he was in control here. He was her king, her master – but he didn’t want it to be like this. He had never taken a reluctant woman and he wasn’t going to start now. He stared at her pale face and enormous haunted eyes. He felt such empathy for Talia, but his ego was overriding his compassion. He was bestowing the greatest of honours – he was the most powerful and desired man in the land. Every woman at court would envy her tonight. Didn’t she realise how lucky she was?

“Beautiful little visionary, waiting to satisfy my every desire.”

He opened the door and walked inside, conscious of his every action. Control was everything, control of her – and himself. No sudden moves, no pressure, no aggression, he had to coax her into wanting this. Irritation prickled again. Every other woman in Cornicunia would be eagerly attending to his every desire by now. Not Talia, she was a Lokian visionary, she was special – difficult, overcomplicated, above such earthly things. She expected a spiritual dimension he did not understand. More irritated than ever, he tore the manacles from the bars of the cage, and Talia’s eyes widened and became wilder than ever. She was a crazed animal trapped in the predator’s lair. There was nothing but fear in those turquoise eyes. Her shoulders were shaking, her arms wrapped protectively around her body, concealing her beauty. This would not do. He stared down at her, and her wild eyes desperately searched his. That was all they ever did, probe his soul, root around every crevice and corner, searching for buried treasure; what in God’s name were they looking for? There was nothing precious hidden inside of him, he was an open book who wore his needs and desires plainly for all to see. He had no need to hide, anything he wanted was his. He was King of Cornicunia. Sighing heavily, he crouched down beside her, watching her eyes become calmer as he stared into them.

“What are you doing to me, Talia?”

He shook his head to try to rid it of the tenderness, the intense, confusing empathy he felt for her. It was stealing his power. She was stealing his power by bonding him to her in some unfathomable way he did not understand. He loved it and he hated it, loved the intensity of emotion but resented this small woman for effortlessly doing what no one else could.

“No, Your Majesty, what are you doing to me?”

The sincerity of her words and the awe in her eyes restored his power. Talia felt the magic too. He shared a bond with this woman and there was nothing either of them could do about it.

“Don’t be scared, Talia, I’m not going to hurt you. You can trust me, remember? Give me your hand.”

Now he had his power back he yearned to reassure her, protect her with his strength and dominance, but she continued to stare into his eyes, searching, searching… Not content with their unsettling, mesmerising connection, she was intent on draining him of still more. His peace of mind, his sanity… He had to resist, stay strong. He had already compromised far too much for Talia. She slowly extended one hand while wrapping her other arm firmly over both her breasts. Oh, no, Talia, that will not do. He took her cold hand in his and a strange energy surged between them, an intensely primal living thing. The vibration between their joined fingers travelled through his skin and flowed into his bloodstream, spreading throughout his body, consuming him. His heart thundered, and her turquoise eyes widened, their luminosity mesmerising. Wanwisa, goddess of the sea. During his travels, he had heard the legend of Wanwisa, an ethereally beautiful woman who governed the oceans, reigning over the magical creatures of the sea. Now he had gazed into Talia’s hypnotic turquoise eyes, he believed this myth to be truth.

“Good, little visionary, good.”

He refused to bestow goddess status on her. He would reduce her, be her benevolent but condescending master. She was his slave and to acknowledge her as a goddess would mean accepting the terrible truth.

Talia was a thousand times more spectacular than he could ever be.

So he would call her a good little visionary as if she was his plaything instead of the most miraculous being to walk God’s earth.

He shook his head at his whimsy as he clipped the manacle around her tiny wrist. He stretched her arm out above her head and attached the other manacle to the bars of the cage. A deep sadness bloomed in her turquoise eyes.

“And now, the other hand.”

“Please, Your Majesty…”

“No.”

He had to be strong, resist her powers, be kind but firm. Show her how this was going to be. She shuddered, her slender shoulders shaking, but she gave him her hand and he tried to ignore the magical vibrations. It was impossible to do. He forced his eyes to remain on hers and not wander to her naked body. She was vulnerable, and he must be gentle – for now.

“Good.”

This was no way to treat a goddess. He shook his head, furious with his lack of control over the thoughts raging through it. Slave, not goddess. Slave. As he lifted her arm to manacle her other wrist above her head, he caught a glimpse of her naked breasts, jutting provocatively towards him. His heart stuttered and raced, and his cock hardened, blood surging at breakneck speed, making him giddy with desire. This was better, lust was familiar, reassuring, a portent of pleasures to come. He had always loved the ritual of the cage, relished the vulnerability and trust of an imprisoned woman, her eagerness to please him. Talia would surrender to his desires, honour him with her trust, and he would give her pleasure and respect in return. She would soon understand the rules of this game and lose her fear. He stood and stepped back to inspect the exquisite scene he had created. Beautiful, naked Talia, kneeling before him, arms chained above her head, huge turquoise eyes gazing pleadingly into his. Fuck! He did not like her expression at all. He had been kind and gentle. Her eyes should be brimming with trust and awe, not desolation and despair.

“I am honouring you, Talia. I hope you know that. Every woman in Cornicunia would love to be in your place tonight.”

“I know, Your Majesty, but please, understand, I am a Lokian and am different to the women you are used to. Sex is an intimate, sacred act for me.”

His fury rose like a volcano. How dare she bewitch him with her magic and then refuse to follow his rules? How dare she promise so much more than he had ever dreamed of and then rebuff him? He had not imagined the strange power of their joined hands, the magical energy flowing between them. Yet Talia remained impervious to everything – their connection, his kindness, all of it. She was rejecting the honour he had bestowed upon her, rejecting the attentions of her king.

How dare she?!

He crouched in front of her again and lowered his eyes to her breasts. Lush and full, the size of ripe peaches, her small nipples invitingly erect and begging to be sucked. Her waist was slender and elegant, the tiny swell of her stomach enhancing her sensual feminine allure. He stared at her perfectly smooth, hairless vulva, prepared for him by the skilled Katrina, his cock jerking with anticipation at the magnificent sight. Talia was perfection, and she belonged to him. He raised his eyes to meet her desolate turquoise gaze. There was no shyness or embarrassment there, only overwhelming sadness. He was feverishly aroused, irritatingly connected… and furious.

“Show some enthusiasm, Talia, or I will give you to the stable hands to satisfy their brutish desires. I have no interest in your inert body.”

She flinched, but her eye contact with him did not.

“Please, Your Majesty, not like this… I cannot bear it.”

She tugged impotently at the chains and stared imploringly at him, her eyes begging his soul for a mercy it did not want to give. His heart sank; how could he do this? He was not a rapist and that was most definitely what this would be if he persisted now. Talia was unwilling, she was rejecting her king. He would never give her to another man, but she didn’t know that. An evil plan took shape in his twisted mind.

“Talia, I will give you a choice: me or my stable hands. When you have made your choice, you will embrace it wholeheartedly, whatever it may be. There will be no reprieve, no changing your mind. You need to be sure you make the right decision.”

He stared menacingly into her eyes, manufacturing as much hatred and vitriol as he could muster. He needed to get away from her, the one woman he wanted and could not have. He was furious. She had been honoured by her king but was unmoved, impervious. She had no respect for him at all.

“Your Majesty, please…”

“No. Be silent and consider your decision, Talia, you have offended me enough. I have shown you nothing but kindness and understanding yet you dare to disrespect me. You have until morning to decide. You will enthusiastically embrace the honour of my attentions or I will give you to the stable hands for their pleasure.”

He left without another word, his breath short and ragged as he fought for control. The blood stormed to his head, stoking a burning cauldron of anger and confusion. He needed to rant and roar, expel his frustrated sexual energy, satisfy his rampant, throbbing cock. Force Talia to submit to his will…

No, that could not happen, he would not allow her to reduce him to that. He glowered at the woman hanging naked from his cage, scowling at her trembling naked body. She was deliberately provoking him with her ripe beauty, tempting him with all he could not have. Little Lokian temptress… she would learn her place. A tiny whimper escaped her luscious lips, embedding in his heart, tearing at his soul. He felt Talia’s pain. He was lost, bewildered, bewitched… He was a mess. Damn! He would never be able to sleep tonight! Insubordinate, obstinate Talia… he wished he had never brought her here. Lokian visionaries were nothing but trouble.

He undressed with his back to her but felt her eyes boring into him, penetrating his soul. She would not desist. Talia would never let him rest; she was determined to haunt his every waking moment, infiltrate his head and steal his peace of mind. This was Lokian magic; their persistent staring could drive anyone insane. He stood there naked as the day he was born and swore he could feel her huge turquoise eyes probing inside his mind. Fuck! His head was thumping and his cock was throbbing, and he had had enough!

He stalked over to the cage to be greeted by her enormous mournful eyes. Her naked sex peeped out between her legs, taunting him and making him angrier than ever. Talia was teasing him with all he could not have, boldly tormenting her king. The most disrespectful slave ever. He fisted his cock, thinking of all the debauched things he would do to her when she finally surrendered to him. Talia, his exquisite little visionary sex slave. She was destined to be his. He stared into her stunned eyes, challenging her to meet his lustful gaze. And, of course, she did. Talia was brave – and stubborn. But he would make her his slave.

“I will have you, Talia, you belong to me now. Ensure you make the right decision.”

Part One

The Game

 

 

The Blue Room

She was kneeling naked on the cold stone floor waiting for her torture to begin. This was her life now.

Talia’s heart shrivelled as silent tears cascaded down her icy cheeks. She had no choice but to accept her terrible fate, trapped in a nightmare she could never escape. She was enslaved to King Isaac, at the mercy of his dark desires, and the horror of the unknown stretched into infinity and beyond. Cold dread coursed through her veins and consumed her pounding heart, leaving her breathless and disorientated. She was devastated, powerless – and alone. Why was this happening to her? What atrocities had she committed in past lives to suffer such torment now? Lokians did not believe in accidents or coincidence – this blue room had been waiting for her since birth. It was her destiny, her fate.

She stared at the walls imprisoning her, transfixed by the beauty of the tapestries. Blue. Everything was sky blue, the colour of her spirit and her transcendental tool. It was the colour that opened the inner door to her enlightened mind that saw beyond the illusions of this mortal world. She was surrounded by those illusions in King Isaac’s palace and craved the tranquillity of her forest home. There was no light in this windowless room, no nourishment for the soul. Memories of the forest flooded her spirit, every cell in her body mourning its loss. The supernatural beauty of a starlit night, the sweet scent of grass after rainfall… that life was over. And there was nothing she could do about it.

It was too much. One little Lokian visionary could not bear so much suffering and pain. Violent sobs wracked her body, blocking her nose and her throat, and she gasped for breath, the air barely reaching her burning lungs. Death would be a blessing, but she would fight to stay alive. Stupid. Pointless. She knew all too well how this would end. Her head spun as she stared at the four-poster bed, the only piece of furniture in an eerie blue room. The spawn of the devil. Possessed by a demonic voice, it delighted in her torment. You’re a slave now, Talia, a sex slave. You’re not a Lokian visionary anymore. Shivers surged through her naked body and a cold sheen of sweat broke out across her back. Her stomach lurched and churned as the blue room spun around her, intent on driving her insane. It was more terrifying than Isaac’s notorious chambers of torture could ever be. No thumb screws, no whips, no rack… no clues as to the torment that awaited her tonight. The unknown was a truly terrifying thing…

There was only one thing that could calm her, give hope and comfort in her hour of need. Sweet solace from her most unlikely saviour: her captor, her master, her king.

The man with the sky blue eyes…

Isaac’s eyes haunted her, the memory of their first meeting etched forever on her soul. Her captor was not an empty vessel, a man defined by privilege and power. Something special lurked within his sky blue eyes, something spectacular. Isaac yearned for something beyond this mortal world. The spectacular something transcended his royal title, was born of his spirit, not his noble birth. And it belonged to her – her presence in this world had called it forth. She was a Lokian, she knew such things. Mystical things. Something otherworldly was at play here, everything was not as it seemed…

Isaac’s eyes had raked over her trembling body, stripping her naked with their hypnotic stare. Taunting her with the spectacular something…

“The blue room. You know what to do, Katrina.”

Isaac had turned and strode away, leaving her stunned and disorientated as the woman with the kind eyes took charge of her. You know what to do, Katrina; Talia had known what that meant. Katrina was to prepare her… for Isaac’s pleasure. She had reclined in the sunken pool in the bathing room and listened numbly as Katrina quietly said the only words she would speak.

“His Majesty would like you to focus your mind on the night ahead, Talia, so I will perform this ritual in silence. Please, don’t be scared. His Majesty will not hurt you.”

He will destroy me, Talia had thought as she stared into Katrina’s soft brown eyes. She could not imagine sharing intimacies with a man she did not know. Her people used sexuality to express spiritual connection unsullied by the depravity King Isaac enjoyed. She had experienced this sacred intimacy with only two men in all her twenty-nine summers and was unprepared for enforced sexual union designed to enslave her to her king. Isaac feared her people’s mystical powers, she had seen that in his eyes. He feared their growing hold on the nation’s hearts and saw it as a threat – but the Lokians were a threat to no one. Her people were a simple people who only wished to live their lives of love and peace in their beautiful forest home. Only wished to be left alone. If only…

She closed her eyes as her body swayed, her arms hanging by her sides, limp and weightless. She was eerily relaxed now, tricked by the familiar kneeling position she practised every day during her journeys to the spirit realms. She focused on her new mantra, repeating it silently in her mind. The spectacular something in Isaac’s eyes. The king held a unique magic deep within his soul – her challenge was to find it and win its trust. Understand what it meant. It was the tiniest glimmer of hope, the light that would help her endure the darkness of her terrible new life.

She shuddered, shifting her weight to ease the pressure on her sore knees. Her injured shoulder throbbed relentlessly, and there was a sickening ache in her belly. She yearned to bury herself under the inviting blankets on the bed, cocoon her ailing body in comfort and warmth. Yet she knelt as Katrina had told her to do. Why was she so obedient, so strangely calm? Why wasn’t she screaming and wailing, making a desperate attempt at escape? This waiting was torture, the horror of the unknown stretching ominously before her until the end of time.

She gazed down at her glistening skin, at her small round breasts, slick with oil. Katrina had removed all the hair on her body, no place left untouched by her gentle hands. She had been prepared for Isaac’s sexual delectation; no choice, no voice, a naked kneeling doll, her only covering the curtain of her long auburn hair. Such intimacy lay ahead with a man she had not spoken one word to yet. It was against everything she believed. She shook her spinning head as madness threatened to invade it, take it over as Isaac planned to take her over, body and soul…

After her bath, Katrina had swathed her in the lightest of gowns. A silken wisp of the purest white, it had clung to her dew soft, oiled skin, highlighting her turquoise eyes and enhancing the sensual beauty of her sleek body. Her traitorous sexuality had sprung to life, wetness gushing between her legs at the eroticism of this ritual to prepare her for her king. Her sex did not respect the conflict between its desires and her soul. Maybe that was the only way to survive, separate the physical and the spiritual, but how did she do that? It was not the Lokian way.

She had walked eerily empty corridors with the silent Katrina and when they reached the blue room, she had taken Talia’s gown away. Katrina had smiled as she left as if tonight was to be the most wonderful experience of Talia’s life, her wedding night with a beloved, tender groom, and not her initiation into slavery.

“Don’t worry, Talia, please, be glad. King Isaac’s attentions are a blessing and a great honour. Every woman here envies you tonight.”

Katrina had bitten her lip as if she had said too much. But she had said nothing to help Talia, nothing at all. Talia knew the truth; this abuse was no honour, it was a twisted tribute to her people’s powers. Isaac did not desire her or want to hurt her, did not find her beautiful or despicable. This was about his sovereignty and dominion over the people of Cornicunia, nothing more, nothing less.

She didn’t know how much time had passed since Katrina left. She had been plunged into a sinister state of limbo, placidly waiting to be dragged down into hell. Her mind was consumed by a strange numbness as if this horror was happening to someone else, and her injured shoulder throbbed insistently, determined to remind her of her abduction. A haunting image flashed through her mind, the broken expression in Clyde’s eyes as he watched Isaac’s soldiers carry her away. What was her beloved guru thinking now? He was old and frail; how would he cope with this? She shuddered. Her powers were muddied and weakened by her trauma, her body too bewildered to allow her soul to soar, but she had to close her mind to spiritual communication with her people. Other Lokians could confuse the pathways of psychic connection, but she was the only one who could block all thoughts, images and sounds. And she did it now, pulling sky blue veils around her mind as one might pull the curtains around the four-poster bed. She wrapped her thoughts and emotions in sky blue and blocked the world out. She didn’t want her people to feel her fear and confusion, sense the abominable things that would happen to her here…

But now she had cocooned her mind, it was more powerful than ever, existing in a world entirely of its own. Her imagination ran wild, fixating on the unspeakable horrors that would take place in a windowless room. Blue room. Everything beautiful the colour represented would be tarnished, corrupted and debased here tonight, for this would be the night her life changed forever, the night her spirit died.

She squeezed her eyes tightly shut as her heart pounded in her ears and her quiet panic threatened to rise and erupt. She could beat her head against the stone walls again and again and again, destroy herself before Isaac destroyed her…

But she was too late…

Footsteps…

Louder, getting nearer…

The heavy stamp of booted feet impatient for her suffering and torture…

Her heart stuttered.

Her pulse skittered.

Her soul shattered, plummeting into the bowels of hell.

The door swung open, and Isaac’s muscular frame filled the entrance, his powerful physical presence emphasising the absoluteness of her plight. His shirt strained across his broad chest and shoulders, his tight trousers clung to his strong thighs. She was no match for this man, not physically… intellectually, spiritually, yes – but would he listen to her? Listen to a woman? She was a gifted visionary, but she had a horrible feeling this would be of no consequence to him.

He stared at her, his exquisite eyes impenetrable, calmly evaluating her dazed, unseeing ones. She stared back, without fear or humility, for this was all she had. For a few more moments, she had autonomy of her body and would use it in any way she could. For a few more moments she was still Talia.

Isaac turned and locked the door, and her heart sank into the depths of the cold stone floor. She would never be able to evade Isaac’s clutches – unless she could somehow incapacitate him? But what would be the point? His soldiers would be waiting to apprehend her escape. If she got out that door, she would be swiftly recaptured and her punishment would be brutal, her torture increased according to her crime…

Isaac loomed over her, his hands resting on his belt. He was a wild man, six foot of powerful, muscular male, his raw sexuality a breathtakingly potent physical energy rippling through his flesh, invading her senses, searing her soul. His short beard emphasised his primal masculinity and his jet black hair curled sensuously around his shoulders. Her body quivered as it felt something far more terrifying than fear. Isaac was magnificent.

“Did I tell you to look at me?”

Her head swam as she lowered it, her heart thumping with terror and distress. This horror was unfolding just as she had anticipated.

Isaac slowly unbuckled his belt, the simple, everyday action stealing the breath from her body as she accepted her monstrous new life as his powerless slave. Was he planning to beat her or to free his manhood and… She couldn’t bear to think of such a thing, couldn’t serenely accept her terrible fate. A fresh sheen of sweat burst through her skin, her heart plummeting in her chest. Violent waves of nausea swept through her body as she lost hold of all rational thought and did the one thing she knew was futile…

Leaping to her feet, she lurched forwards, racing for the door. She moved faster than she had ever moved before, but Isaac was faster than the devil. He was upon her in an instant, his powerful body covering hers, pushing her face first to the floor. He broke her fall with his muscular arms, holding them under her breasts as he landed on top of her, stealing her breath and rendering her immobile. He held his weight on his forearms so she was trapped between them and his body, her arms pinned to her sides. Even as she struggled for breath, she appreciated the profundity of his gentleness. Isaac was not hurting her, but his enormous, rock-hard erection pressed demandingly against her behind. It was incomprehensible – how could such gentleness coexist with such sexual threat? Her head swam with confusion as she gulped for air.

“Breathe.”

One small word uttered in the softest of voices, yet it was still a command. The absolute dominance of this man was indisputable, a king used to having his way at all times. He moved one arm to rest his hand upon her head and a pure vibration surged between their bodies, relaxing her, soothing her… She gasped. The energy was as blue as this room and her meditations, a calming, unifying spirit of peace. It was an energy they shared. She and Isaac knew each other – her soul recognised his. This breathtaking revelation stunned her into silence and despite her better judgement her body softened under his. She trusted her instinct and intuition as all Lokians did, trained from birth to listen to her spirit and connect with the true reality hidden beneath the illusions of humankind.

“Good, that’s good, Talia, relax.” Isaac’s voice was a tender whisper in her ear. “I want you to listen to me now. You will never run from me again. Never. There will be severe consequences if you do. This time I will forgive you, but I will not be so lenient again.”

She slowly absorbed this information, repeating his words over and over inside her head. One thing stood out. Isaac had the capacity for fairness and compassion; he was giving her this one chance. This king was human.

“And now we will start again.”

He moved his other arm from underneath her so her naked body met the cold stone floor. She wriggled without anticipating escape. It was a tiny, impotent gesture of autonomy, letting him know she would always be Talia, an independent, sentient being, whatever he decided to do with her as his slave. He took hold of her wrists and held her arms above her head, his grasp firm yet surprisingly gentle. A sickening pain coursed through her injured shoulder, twisting agonisingly in her empty belly.

“Ah.”

The sickness surged from her belly to her throat, evading her weak attempt at restraining it. She gagged once, twice, and a horrible little choking sound entered the blue room along with Isaac’s heavy breathing.

“No, Talia, no. Do not test my patience, I know I am not hurting you.”

“Ah!”

The pain was excruciating, knife-sharp slashes of agony rippling through her shoulder. Her head swam, unable to bear both his anger and the pain, and vomit surged violently into her mouth. The noise was disgusting, ugly, retching sounds from deep within her foodless belly as the pain in her shoulder demanded an expression. She spluttered over the cold stone floor, her face squashed against it. She could barely breathe.

“What the…!”

Isaac pulled her up against him as bile dribbled down her chin onto her bare breasts. She was naked. Somehow she had forgotten that; modesty was the very least of her concerns.

Isaac folded her convulsing body into his arms. His chest was warm and hard and smelt of sandalwood and orange blossom. Smelt like home. She spluttered in shock, and yet more bile exploded from her mouth and landed on his snow white shirt. She stared at it, wailing like a banshee, certain this transgression would herald the advent of unimaginable torture. She no longer cared about the serenity expected of a Lokian visionary. She was an animal, reduced to primitive expression of suffering and pain.

“No.”

His voice was soft but more menacing than a raised voice could ever be. What horrors lurked beneath his inscrutable demeanour, horrors she could not begin to imagine? Loud, explosive anger was easy to understand but this man was an enigma. In her mind, he had become a jumble of monstrous myths and fables juxtaposed with his strangely tender manner. And what was that hideous noise? That high-pitched moaning and screaming, that sound of absolute devastation and despair? Whatever it was, it was followed by more retching and more bile dribbling down her chin. She shook her head frantically as Isaac cradled her against him. Her hands flailed wildly, tearing his shirt open, and she stared in terror as more bile landed on his hair-covered chest. She was in such trouble now! It was a ludicrous thought to have at such a traumatic moment for what could be worse than this? The unthinkable unknown, the horrors of the blue room… Her mouth opened in a silent scream as she stared into ridiculously beautiful sky blue eyes.

“Stop it, Talia, stop this right now. I am not going to hurt you. You can trust me, calm down.”

This astounding information was delivered in a matter-of-fact manner as if she were a fool to think otherwise. Her intuitive powers were compromised, but she instinctively knew the truth. Isaac was capable of empathy and compassion, even for his Lokian slave. She was stunned into silence, eerily calm as she stared, dazed, into his impossibly tender eyes. Tender, haunted eyes.

“Why have you brought me here, Your Majesty? Why is this blue room important to you?”

She knew the blue room was the answer to everything – if Isaac answered her question truthfully, she would understand the mystical essence of his soul. She was a revered Lokian, the most gifted of them all, and was only just beginning to understand the extent of her visionary powers. And amidst her confusion and fear, one thing shone crystal-clear. The blue room was the key to Isaac, would tell her everything she needed to know.

“You are my slave, Talia. You do not question me. You know why you are here and you know what will happen between us. You are a Lokian visionary, you understand these things. Now you must accept them.”

His voice was cold, commanding, but he was in awe. Of her. Her spiritual gifts threatened him. She threatened him.

She threatened King Isaac, the most powerful man in the land.

She had no time to make sense of her intuition for the change in Isaac made her catch her breath. The tenderness had left his eyes to be replaced with cold detachment, striking new terror into her soul. Tender one moment, cold and cruel the next? This she could not bear – it was torture of the wickedest kind. Isaac had told her she could trust him, and then he had confirmed the terrible truth. She was to be his slave, his plaything; his world was the dark, soulless place she had been fighting against all her life. She could no longer cling to the spectacular something in his eyes for her captor was playing with her emotions in the cruellest way possible. This beautiful man was truly evil.

“No!” She was furious with the tears coursing down her face but determined to be heard. “I will not, Your Majesty! I will not accept my fate! I will not restrain my emotions in the face of depravity and horror. If I am to be abused, tortured and debased, I will be myself while it happens! If I am to be stripped of my humanity, I will respond with my truth. You will see the devastation you are wracking on another sentient being! I will be myself until the moment I die.”

Isaac’s eyes narrowed, and the spectacular something emerged, battling for dominance within them. It was fighting with the powerful king, trying to convince him to pursue something new… a revolutionary course of action. She didn’t understand the spectacular something yet, but she knew all she needed to know. It was the unique spiritual magic in Isaac’s soul and was there because of her. It was a life-altering, profound thing, worthy of a Lokian.

Isaac rested his hand momentarily against her cheek before wiping her tears away. Everything he did confounded her.

“Who says you will die?”

His words implied there would be no end to her torment. It was just too much to bear. She was teetering on the edge of an emotional precipice, traumatised and irrational, veering from hope to despair in a frantic heartbeat and powerless to stop. She wailed louder than ever and struggled pathetically against his hold. The truth was it was unsettling her. She felt safe in his arms and that was foolish and deranged.

“How could you enjoy keeping me alive only to rape and humiliate me and prolong my suffering? You are tormenting an innocent being. Please just let me die! Please be merciful and make this quick. Do whatever you have to in order to gain your satisfaction, and then put me out of my misery. Show me the elevation of your character, Your Majesty. Prove you are worthy of being a king. Be merciful and let me die!”

His arms were like a vice around her as she pummelled ineffectively against his chest.

“This is impossible.”

What was that noise? That terrible wailing and moaning, the sound of an animal slowly being tortured to death? Where was it coming from? Her body was shaking… convulsing, jerking… what was happening to her? She had no control over herself anymore; her traumatised spirit had left her physical body to fend for itself. She was watching as her body disintegrated in Isaac’s arms, watching those exquisite eyes watching her right back with something akin to terror. This all-conquering king could not be afraid of her – she was pathetic, helpless. Isaac nodded, his beautiful mouth twitching, a look of grim resolution on his face.

“Alright, let’s do this.”

She screamed at his muttered words, steeling herself for the beginning of her nightmare, but nothing terrible happened. She screamed again as he pulled his shirt off, too scared to move let alone attempt escape. The eerie wailing grew louder and shocked her into total stillness. Where was it coming from? What strange being shared Isaac’s palace with him? An animal? A ghoul? Transfixed by the haunting anguish of the sound, she allowed Isaac to pull his shirt over her head and move her shaking arms into the sleeves as if she was a small child unable to dress herself. The shirt was warm from his body and smelt like him, musky, a little spicy, like sandalwood and cloves. It was delicious… and she was mad. In the pit of her stomach was an odd, unsettling mixture of terror and peace. Isaac pulled the shirt down over her trembling, uncooperative body; it was enormous, hanging loose past her hips, falling almost to her knees. Isaac’s eyes darkened but still nothing terrible happened. He simply scooped her up into his arms so her head lay against his shoulder, and marched towards the door. As he strode out onto the corridor that otherworldly sound continued to echo, that wail of supernatural terror, devastation and despair…

Isaac marched along endless, empty white stone corridors, striding through his palace of ghosts as their wailing became louder and more bone-chilling than ever. So many ghouls haunted his palace yet Isaac continued to march, bravely ignoring them all. Spectres could not scare this man – he was invincible. His lips brushed over the top of her head as his bare chest warmed her trembling body. She was safe. She closed her eyes as he marched on and on and on until…

A door opened. It was quiet inside. Peaceful. There were no ghouls here. They were alone at last. She clung to his neck and pressed her face into his warm, wet chest. Wet chest. Wet with her vomit and her tears. She lifted her head to stare into tender, empathetic eyes.

“That’s better, good little visionary.”

He narrowed his eyes, confusion clouding the sky blue. Her mouth fell open. What could he be confused about?

“You are not what I expected, Talia.”

She continued to gape like a fool. Her captor was talking to her, had called her by her Lokian name. This king was human.

He sat her on the edge of a magnificent four-poster bed, handling her as if she were a delicate piece of precious art. The bed’s blood red velvet curtains were drawn open but in one swift move Isaac could pull them around her, imprison her in the decadent sensual haven of a king. Panic began to rise in her belly, fluttering like tiny frightened birds, but staring into Isaac’s empathetic eyes made it disappear. Her eyes widened.

“Glad to see I can surprise you too.”

There was amusement in his voice. She blinked as he took a cornflower blue blanket from the foot of the bed and advanced slowly towards her as if she were a temperamental filly he was trying to tame. She instinctively shrank away.

“No. Don’t move.”

He laid the blanket beside her, his darkening eyes warning her to disobey at her peril. She trembled as he took hold of the crumpled shirt and pulled it unceremoniously over her head. She was naked again. This she did not like. She moaned softly as her heartbeat stuttered, but Isaac’s eyes did not leave hers. Nothing terrible happened. She watched as he walked to the bedside table and returned with a cloth and a jug of water. He sat beside her and gently wiped her vomit-stained chin. She was mesmerised, unable to believe the strange behaviour of this capricious king. She whined as he wiped the bile from her breasts, and a tiny smile played around the corners of his mouth. Her captor was enjoying this, gaining pleasure from her torment. That did not bode well for what lay ahead. When he was satisfied she was clean, he pulled her naked body against his. She whimpered with terror, but he ignored her, tenderly swaddling her trembling body as if she were a baby. She was helpless, at his mercy, but cocooned within the soft embrace of the blue blanket; how endangered could she really be? Isaac carefully laid her back against the soft pillows, and she felt her eyes grow as wide as her silly slack mouth. He clearly wasn’t planning on violating her anytime soon. She had at least a little time in which to learn about her captor so she could appeal to his higher nature. What was she thinking? He had stolen her from her home, brought her to his palace to be his slave – this man was not capable of compassion or remorse. She must not allow herself to be seduced by a few moments of kindness… or his beauty. His beauty. She whimpered. She was lost. Isaac was impossibly beautiful, his muscled chest a work of art. She stared shamelessly as he washed her vomit off his chest before pulling the stained shirt back over his head, the shirt still warm from her body. She shivered as it caressed his skin. Isaac was a king with a palace brimming with the very finest clothes, why would he wear a soiled shirt? A shirt that had travelled from his body to hers and back again. She knew this was an act of great significance but was too confused to process her thoughts and pathetically mesmerised by him. She stared vacantly for a few more moments before reluctantly tearing her eyes away. She needed to stop gawping and focus, find out what kind of room she was in.

And she was confronted by her worst nightmare…

The cage.

The cage. Seven foot of imposing metal stood in front of the long windows, confirming everything Cornicunians said was true. King Isaac was consumed by depravity, kept sexual slaves in his room.

Her.

She stared at the empty cage envisaging herself chained naked to the bars, helpless and at Isaac’s mercy. It was too much to bear. She swallowed as she forced her eyes away from hell, from the torment of the horror that awaited her. She was determined to learn something more about her captor, discover what this room revealed about him. Find something, however small, that might help her communicate with this man. It didn’t look like a torture chamber or sadistic den of debauchery, it was simply a luxurious bedroom fit for a king. Except for the cage. Sky blue velvet curtains at the windows, sky blue like Isaac’s eyes and her blue room. Her blue room… What did that mean? Her eyes flitted to the wall on her left, to the three paintings hanging there. The two of naked, entwined lovers reinforced the dark erotic promise of the cage. The third surprised her. An exquisite angel with serene golden eyes and breathtakingly beautiful snow white wings. Golden eyes and snow white wings… like her spirit animal, the angel hawk. Her angel hawk was with her here, circling overhead, calling her to fly to the spirit realms – but she resisted. She must stay in the mortal world and fight with her mind, battle to think clearly again. This room was scrambling her fuddled brain for it was full of contradictions, the juxtaposition of the spiritual and the sexually depraved a chilling yet intriguing sight. It fascinated her. If her mind was clear and unfettered her intuition would know what it meant. But she was confused and traumatised, and this room was confounding her. Her eyes reluctantly returned to the hideous monstrosity that exposed the truth about this beautiful king.

The cage. The work of the devil.

She looked into Isaac’s sky blue eyes, and they were dancing with amusement. He was smirking at her. It should have spoilt his beauty, but it didn’t. Nothing on God’s earth had the power to do that. He was a walking work of art: a dark angel with a finely muscled, powerful physique, lustrous black hair and hypnotic eyes. Oh, his eyes. The spectacular something lurking in their bottomless depths. He was perfect. And she was mad. Her stomach churned as her brain struggled to assimilate everything that had happened and began to shut down. It needed rest so badly. Her angel hawk soared overhead, sensing her pain and confusion, calling, again and again and again, inviting her to take refuge in the spirit realms…

“Talia.”

It was the voice of the angel in the painting. Mellifluous, deep and concerned.

“Talia.”

The angel was worried about her.

“Talia, look at me.”

She blinked and forced her eyes to focus as her angel hawk flew away. She was alone with Isaac and his mesmerising sky blue orbs.

“Thank God.”

Her face was wet again, but she wasn’t crying. Was she? Tears cascaded from her weary eyes, but she didn’t understand why they were there, didn’t understand anything anymore. Isaac’s hand cupped her cheek, and he sighed as if she was bewildering him. She rubbed her face against his hand and the pure healing energy of blue passed between them. Her eyelids fluttered closed as she relaxed into the peace of the moment, and Isaac sighed again, a sound of exasperation and unease. Her behaviour concerned him, but what did he expect? That she would be detached from this horror and calmly accept her terrible fate? That was not her. She would fight for her freedom until her last breath on mortal earth. It was the Lokian way. There was nothing to fear for what could be worse than the sacrifice of your soul?

“You are magnificent, Talia.”

He crooned in her ear as he folded her into his arms, her captor reassuring her. She should feel vulnerable, swaddled in the thick blanket, but all she felt was the swimming of her head and the shock of Isaac’s words. The sickness returned to her stomach, and her angel hawk called out again…

“No, Talia, no. Look at me, keep those exquisite eyes on mine.”

The compliments he paid her stunned her brain into activity, kept her mind focused on the here and now. Her angel hawk’s cries were persuasive, haunting… but Isaac had said she was magnificent and had exquisite eyes. What did that mean? She would stay in the mortal world and find out. She stared up at him. His face was a blur of otherworldly ethereal beauty, a dark angel seen through deluded, tear-consumed eyes.

“Open your mouth, Talia.”

Isaac held a flask in his hand. Katrina had given her water before she took her to the blue room but that was a lifetime ago. If she didn’t drink, her poor addled mind would become more disorientated than ever. But could she trust Isaac not to poison her? She shook her head as she opened her mouth, too confused and too thirsty to argue. Isaac’s mouth relaxed, the determined-set line softening into a sensuous curve that hinted at a sensitive disposition. Or maybe it was just a pretty mouth to match his pretty eyes, a cruel trick of nature. Only a foolish woman would be seduced by such superficial things.

“Drink, Talia.”

She was that foolish woman for she was mesmerised by her captor. She stared at his mouth as he pressed the flask lightly against hers, waiting for her to drink. He didn’t force her. What did that mean? Her intuition was infuriating her. It harassed her at every turn, but was erratic and befuddled, unable to make sense of the simplest of things. Isaac was her captor and master; he decided how she lived – and if she died. She had to analyse his every word and action, learn to understand him in order to survive. But she couldn’t clear her mind. The terror and tension in her body were inhibiting the smooth, easy flow of her spiritual gifts. Her muscles were tight and unyielding, and the sickness in her stomach was making her head spin. She needed to relax into a meditative state, focus on the spectacular something in Isaac’s eyes – but it was impossible. She shuddered, and Isaac pressed the flask firmly against her lips, silently ordering her to drink. She lost the will to fight and sipped obediently. Could she trust him? Was there truly kindness in his soul?

“It’s alright, Talia.”

The water was cold and pure with no aftertaste. She wanted more, but… Her shoulders shook and her lips trembled as she stared pleadingly into his eyes.

“Watch me, Talia.”

He raised the flask to his delectable lips and she watched his throat work as the water flowed down it. She was safe. She bit her lip and tried to move her arm free of the blanket, but it was trapped in the swaddling’s tight embrace. She scowled ferociously, her eyes fixed on the flask. Isaac chuckled, his sky blue eyes as warm as sunshine on a midsummer’s day.

“Would you like some more, Talia?”

She nodded. “Yes, please, Your Majesty.”

“What a polite little visionary you are,” he murmured as he held the flask to her lips. She sucked hard and drank far too fast, draining it completely. As the liquid reached her empty stomach, it churned violently and the sickening pain in her shoulder attacked again. She moaned, yearning for an end to her physical discomfort.

“Are you hungry, Talia?”

He used her name constantly, affirming her worth. He wasn’t treating her like a slave or an object, she wasn’t just a toy to him. Or was she? Was she simply a precious acquisition, an esteemed Lokian visionary to be added to his collection of treasured things? To be enslaved to his will. What did he want to achieve from her capture? Her people had done nothing wrong, peaceful and insular they had no interest in gaining power over the citizens of Cornicunia, but Isaac thought they did. His fear and mistrust lurked behind his sky blue orbs, haunting him and her. He was determined to destroy her Lokian gifts with the brute force of his masculinity.

“Breathe, Talia, and answer my question.”

She sucked in a huge lungful of air and stared deep into his eyes. He had said she could only do that if he gave her permission but now she was doing it all the time. She was victorious.

“Yes, Your Majesty, I am hungry but I… my shoulder hurts.”

It was an understatement for the pain was so sickening she could think of little else. It was dulling her mind and her senses, making her more vulnerable than ever.

“Your shoulder?” Isaac narrowed his eyes, the warmth in them retreating as his mouth set in a disapproving line. “Talia, do not play games with me. I haven’t hurt you. Playing games to attempt to win my sympathy will not work. I am impervious to the manipulations of the feminine mind.”

She was furious. The feminine mind? She was not part of a collective of women, she was Talia, Lokian visionary!

“Your Majesty, I was not intimating you caused my injury. Indeed, I know very well you did not. I told you because the pain is causing a sickness in my stomach and I don’t think I will be able to eat.”

The coldness left his eyes, the dark cloud disappearing to reveal the warmth of his compassion. It was wonderful to feel the sunshine again.

“You need to eat, Talia. Tell me what caused your injury.”

She swallowed. “Your soldiers, Your Majesty. They wrenched my arm when they captured me.”

Her voice was calm and steady, but Isaac’s eyes transformed into cold, hard sapphires, glittering with a malevolent fury that made her catch her breath. She would never be safe with this mercurial man, must never relax in his presence. She must always be alert, watchful for an imminent shift in his emotions, for he felt deeply and intensely and did not attempt to hide or control his feelings. For good or ill, Isaac exposed himself completely. Even as she shrank from his smouldering anger, she was strangely excited by this thought.

Isaac ran his hand over his head as he stared at her cowering against the pillows. She pushed herself down into them, trying to appear as small and inoffensive as possible. He shook his head, and his tense shoulders dropped, his eyes glinting with some unfathomable emotion.

“You will never be hurt again, Talia, I promise. Come here.”

He gestured imperiously, ordering his slave to submit to his will. He was a dominant man and sexually depraved, a fact made evident by the looming presence of the cage. Still, she did as she was told and shuffled forwards in her blanket. He nodded, the softness returning to his eyes.

“Good little visionary, good. I will have food brought for you, and while it is being prepared, I will attempt to ease your pain.”

She gaped like a fool. What was he going to do with her?

His glittering eyes remained fixed on hers as he stood and pulled at a long tasselled rope above the bedside table. A resounding ring echoed throughout the room, the peals loud and insistent. Within seconds there was a faint tap on the door.

“Enter!”

Katrina appeared, her soft brown eyes widening when they saw Talia on the bed.

“A little light supper, please, Katrina, some bread, cheese and anything else you think Talia might enjoy.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Katrina’s eyes swept over Talia, evaluating her condition. She was an attractive woman, only a little older than Talia, her chestnut curls prettily framing her heart-shaped face.

“Is there anything wrong, Katrina?”

Isaac’s lips twitched with amusement as Katrina shook her head.

“No, Your Majesty. Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Isaac smiled at Katrina as she scurried away, clearly nonplussed by Talia’s presence in the royal bedroom. As soon as she had left, Isaac stalked towards the bed, his eyes glinting, his lips curved in a predatory smile.

“Let’s get you ready for your supper, Talia.”

To her chagrin, she was cowering. His kindness unsettled her for she could not decide if it was genuine or a cruelly manipulative act. Was he masquerading as a man and not a monster, planning to attack when she had been lulled into a false sense of security? She trembled as he slid onto the bed beside her.

“Come here, Talia.”

He gestured impatiently, but she froze, fear sweeping through her veins.

“Come, Talia, come to me. It is your choice, I will not force you. You must learn to trust me, trust will be the basis of everything we experience together. You are my slave, but you will always have a choice.”

She blinked at him, confusion curdling her already addled mind. A slave had no will of her own. Yet he was offering her choice… or was he?

“Your Majesty… Please… May I ask what will happen if I choose not to do as you say?”

His eyes were calm and soft as if he had anticipated her question.

“I will persevere until you do. Trusting me will only result in good things, Talia. Once you make the choice to give yourself to me, you will realise that very quickly.”

“My shoulder… you will ease the pain?”

He raised his eyebrows. “I will increase it if you do not address me correctly.”

She swallowed, unsure if she was imagining the playful twinkle in his eyes. He reached out to brush a stray strand of hair away from her face. “I meant what I just said, Talia, I will punish you if you are disrespectful, but I will never hurt you. I know you do not understand this distinction yet, but you soon will. Tonight you do not need to worry about such things. Tonight we will consummate our union. Once I have made you mine it will be easier for you to adapt and accept your new circumstances. This is your life now and the sooner you embrace it, the happier you will be. Tomorrow we will begin your training, and you will learn how to behave and how to please me.”

Her mind was reeling. What was this cruelty? Isaac would treat her with kindness and respect tonight, talk to her as if she was a valued person, but in the morning he would revert to depravity and humiliation. She was unable to stop tears from flooding her eyes.

“Your Majesty, I would rather experience the truth from the start. It is cruelty of a most perverse nature to play with my emotions as you intend to do.”

His responding glower made her shrink back into the pillows.

“Play with you, Talia? That is exactly what I intend to do but not in the cruel manner you imply. I am going to initiate you gently, ensure you are comfortable experiencing intimacy with me before we progress with your training. It will be one small step at a time for both of us as we learn about each other. I want your trust in all things, Talia, and I cannot scare or force you into giving that trust. It must be won.”

…

“Talia? Talia, come back, don’t be scared. Let go of your preconceptions and trust me, that is the only thing you have to do. I will do the rest, I promise. Come back.”

Her head was fuzzy, the pain in her shoulder excruciating. Her angel hawk was circling overhead, calling her to fly with him to freedom, to the spirit realms, away from earthly fear and pain…

“Aah.”

“Trust me.”

Isaac’s mouth was in her hair, his hand on her shoulder. He had pulled the blanket away from her body and his fingers were moving deep into her tense muscles as if he was searching for a truth he knew was hiding there.

“Where were you, Talia? You looked at me without seeing me.”

There was wonder and awe in his eyes, and she felt a surge of feminine power. He knew this was her Lokian gift. Isaac feared her ability to escape the mortal world and travel to mystical realms he did not understand. He felt threatened by the most peaceful and benevolent of things, a magical delight that was winning the hearts and minds of his people. This all stemmed from his fear of losing his royal power and status… meaningless, material things when she had the spiritual blessing of her angel hawk. She felt sorry for Isaac, he was spiritually illiterate. She blinked up at him, compassion burning in her heart. She would teach him.

“You are such a sensitive creature, a most delightful challenge.”

“I am not a challenge, I am a person.”

“What you are is disrespectful, Talia. You need to remember to address me correctly at all times,” he murmured as he nuzzled her hair. Despite the reprimand, she felt cherished and safe as the power of the colour blue vibrated peacefully between them, summer skies and serene seas beckoning.

“Your Majesty, I am sorry, please forgive me, I… that hurts.”

“I know, I know, give me time.”

Time. He wanted time in all things… one step at a time he had said. Yet she would be intimate with him tonight, a man she had just met. It was overwhelming. Could she really accept her new life as his sex slave? If she was not to be dehumanised and abused, could she learn to accept some level of debasement? She didn’t know what this would entail, what he would do to her or expect her to do. The unknown was terrifying.

“I’m scared… of the unknown between us,” she whispered. “Your Majesty,” she added hastily as he moved his mouth from her hair.

“Beautifully expressed, Talia, but ask yourself how unknown will it really be? One step at a time, remember? Surely that is not so daunting, this is all just as unknown to me.”

“No, Your Majesty,” she gasped as the pain in her shoulder caused the sickness to twist in her stomach. “It is not. You know what you intend to do with me.”

He smiled, a genuine smile that caused his eyes to sparkle and crinkle at the edges. “I know the practicalities, Talia, that is all. Everything else is a mystery to me as it is to you. We will create our reality together; it will be an organic and unique thing. I have no idea what will happen when we begin your training tomorrow.”

She narrowed her eyes, and his sky blue orbs glinted dangerously.

“Speak, Talia, do not narrow your eyes at me. Ask me questions if you like, say all you have to say tonight, for tomorrow I will enforce rules for your behaviour and you will have to earn such privileges.”

His words should have made her weep but she did as he asked. If this was her last chance to speak she would take it.

“I believe His Majesty is attempting to win my trust by expressing his uncertainty regarding our union. His Majesty is very clever, it almost worked.”

He threw his head back and roared with laughter. It was surreal and unsettling to imagine this communicative equal becoming a domineering sexual despot at dawn.

“Not so clever if it only almost worked. You excite me, Talia. Training you will be a challenge unlike any other.”

Her heart quivered and sank into the bowels of despair. “It will be no challenge at all, Your Majesty, if I am forced to follow rules of behaviour and subjugated to your will. You hold all the power as you very well know.”

His fingers moved deep into her shoulder muscles, harsh and unrelenting, and she cried out in pain. The spectacular something burst unguarded into his eyes, but there was also irritation there. “You must learn to listen, Talia, tomorrow, it will be vital. As I told you earlier you will always have a choice. If you don’t choose to obey me, I am powerless. My challenge is to persuade you to trust me and willingly do everything I ask of you.”

He wanted to seduce her with his sensual skills, corrupt a pure, gifted Lokian. Did he plan to enact the same ritual with all Lokian women? Would he have the women of his court seduce and ensnare the Lokian men? It was so ridiculous a thought it could be plausible, but she sensed he would tell her no more tonight. His eyes were becoming colder by the second and she did not want to antagonise him. Conversation would prepare her for her fate, whatever it was to be. She had to try to forge some kind of bond with him for the union of their bodies was looming ominously in her mind. She needed his empathetic, tender eyes to guide her through their intimacy, not these cold, distant ones. She wanted warmth to burn brightly between them even though she was mad to think of such a thing. Isaac was her captor, not her lover; he wanted to discover her Lokian secrets, not share her innermost thoughts and dreams. Yet they shared the spiritual energy of the colour blue and the spectacular something in his eyes was there because of her. Confusion washed over her again, and she could not stop her thoughts from entering the universe.

“Will you take me to the blue room tomorrow, Your Majesty?”

His reluctance to discuss it was haunting her. Blue, her spiritual colour and their shared energy… It was not an accident. There was no such thing as coincidence, all Lokians knew that. This was pertinent, profound even. Blue room. She needed to know why he had taken her there, it was achingly relevant, a vital clue to understanding this man.

“I will not discuss what I intend to do with you tomorrow, Talia. Tonight you may say whatever you need to say but on this I am immovable.”

She set her jaw as determinedly as he set his and saw him repress the smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. His eyes were warm again so she was bold.

“You said I could ask you anything, Your Majesty.”

“Yes, but I didn’t say I would answer everything you asked. If you know what to expect from your training it will detract from its impact. I told you, this is all about trust. If you are unprepared for what will happen you will have to learn to trust me.”

She stared boldly into his unfathomable eyes. The pain in her shoulder was easing as his skilled fingers manipulated her muscles. Isaac was easing her pain. Surely that was a good sign for the future? Or did it mean nothing at all? Was he merely keeping her calm to ensure the success of his mission tonight, copulation with the Lokian visionary?

“Everything I do and say tonight will inform how you train me, won’t it, Your Majesty?”

He was no longer trying to restrain his smirk. He clearly found her entertaining so why did he want to control her? Why did she need this training? It wouldn’t help him learn her spiritual secrets, it made no sense at all. She had never felt more confused. He brushed his fingers over her shoulder, the teasing caress a portent of things to come. Her body betrayed her spirit’s attraction to her captor, trembling with sweet anticipation, not dread. Her sex softened, became warm and wet and heavy. Isaac’s attentions were not unwelcome to her…

“You are too clever for your own good, Talia.”

She bit her lip. “If I anger you, Your Majesty… you can make tomorrow truly terrible for me.”

He rolled his eyes in good-natured exasperation. “Your training is not intended to be a terrible experience, a thing for you to dread. You are approaching this all wrong, Talia. Listen to what I am saying, this is all about trust.”

“All about control,” she whispered, and his strong fingers thrust into her muscles, unforgiving and brutal. Her words had hit a nerve and the pain was her punishment for displeasing him. This was her life now…

“Ah! That hurts.”

“Relinquishing control… that is what this is about, Talia. That is real trust. And that is what I want from you.”

“Why do you desire this so deeply, Your Majesty? You have me under your control. Why does it matter if I give myself freely to you?”

He raised his eyebrows. “You are breathtakingly clever, Talia. I’m sure you can work it out for yourself.”

She took a shaky breath, the air refusing to reach her straining lungs.

“I am the most gifted of Lokian visionaries, and if you win my trust you gain understanding of my people, how our minds work.” Her voice was tiny but she knew it was the truth.

He held her away from him and stared deep into her eyes.

“Yes, that’s it, Talia, what other reason could there be?”

 

 

The Cage

He refused to allow her to feed herself, ordering her to open her mouth, treating her like a recalcitrant child. A precious child. He fed her bread and cheese as his words hung ominously over them, heightening the tension in the room. What other reason could there be? It was not a rhetorical question. Isaac was inviting her to analyse his intentions and examine the machinations of his mysterious mind, but she was incapable of logical thought. He had scrambled her brain, muddled her intuition and spiritual awareness until she could no longer decipher fiction from truth. Why was her new master tenderly feeding her by hand? Surely this was not normal captor/captive behaviour even in his strange world? It must all be part of his evil plan. Isaac craved her absolute trust and the simple nurturing act of feeding her bonded them on a primal level. He was sating her appetite, ensuring her most essential needs were met. Treating her like a precious child. What did it mean? If he wanted to assert his power, he could make her eat and drink disgusting things or force her to… that would happen later. The sudden lump in her throat made it impossible to swallow.

“What’s wrong, Talia?”

She retched as the bread refused to journey down her constricted passageway and lodged firmly in her throat, making it difficult to breathe. Isaac cupped his hand around her chin and stared deep into her watering eyes.

“It’s alright, Talia, spit it out.”

His tenderness dissolved the lump in her throat and the bread slid down, happily continuing its journey. She whimpered, and Isaac stared at her in disbelief.

“What’s going on inside your head, Talia? Tell me, you need to eat.”

“Will you force me?”

“Force you? No. You said you were hungry.”

“That’s not what I meant… I was not referring to eating, Your Majesty.” She dropped her head and peered up at him from under her eyelashes, steeling herself for his response.

“Will I fuck!”

The words exploded in passion and fury, his intensity saturating the room. She trembled, her teeth chattering with fear at this primal threat to her safety. Isaac was volatile, unpredictable and intense. It was a terrifying combination. A devastatingly exciting combination. A tiny incoherent moan escaped from the corner of her mouth, but she was no longer afraid of Isaac. She was afraid of herself. Her response was irrational and twisted; this arrogant king had already seduced her and enslaved her to his dark will.

She wanted him. Wanted his emotion and intensity inside of her.

Wanted him inside of her.

Isaac’s eyes narrowed as he drew in a long breath of air. “What do I have to do to make you listen to me, Talia? To open your mind and really hear what I say?”

His voice was even and calm now. Reassuring. He thought he was the cause of her fear, if only he knew the shameful truth. But her indignation overrode all her other feelings.

“Your Majesty, I am not a fool, so please don’t treat me like one. I do not have a closed mind. I am captive here! How can you expect me to trust you when you abducted me from my home? I am here against my will. I am your prisoner! You took me to the blue room but refuse to answer my questions about that. You won’t explain anything and my lack of knowledge is stoking my fear. All I can think of are your infamous rooms of torture and wonder what horror lies ahead of me here. There are things in this palace I cannot even begin to imagine, and that terrifies me. The unknown between us terrifies me,” she repeated emptily as she began to wilt and lose courage under the onslaught of his smouldering eyes. The spectacular something lurked deep within them, but was dominated by quiet menace. She had no idea what he would do or say next, and she didn’t think he did either. The unknown was truly terrifying. Isaac’s mercurial nature was terrifying. She had never been in such an unsettling, vulnerable situation, one moment reassured by his tenderness, the next left quaking from his anger. He expected too much of her, more than any sensitive human being could bear. She was his captive, but he didn’t seem to understand why she was scared and confused. He had an all-encompassing sense of entitlement as well as a tempestuous nature and that made him more dangerous than ever. Her stomach lurched more each passing second of his silence, but she boldly met his eyes. They glittered ferociously, but he did not shout or curse or threaten her with violence. He did something far more shocking…

He took her hand in his.

Her head was swimming again, giddy and disorientated, but not from fear or confusion. Her angel hawk was circling overhead, his cries soft and soothing, but she was not tempted by his call. The sensation of her hand in Isaac’s was more seductive than the spirit realms, their shared energy vibrating through their skin. And Isaac’s eyes were consumed by the spectacular something, and that told her everything.

This was where she was meant to be. In this room, on this bed, her hand in Isaac’s. This was her destiny. One thing shone clear through the fog and confusion in her mind. You were always where you were meant to be however difficult it was to believe at times. This was just part of her journey through life, a lesson from the spirit realms. She would not let them down. She would learn her lesson and her soul would be enriched by this experience.

Somehow.

And then Isaac frowned, blinked twice, and the spell was broken.

“The unknown between us does not include torture and suffering, Talia, it only requires your absolute trust. Without trust, we have nothing. All you need to know is you can trust me. Together we will discover what our unknown is.”

Together. She stared into his intense eyes as she absorbed this astounding information. Together. Isaac knew. Somewhere in the untapped mystical potential of his soul, he knew the truth. This was their joint destiny, whatever that might turn out to be.

“Your Majesty, if I trust you… will there be kindness and tenderness between us?”

It meant everything to her. She could cocoon her soul within spiritual walls, draw sky blue veils around it, protecting it from harm, but separating the body from the spirit during sexual communion was not the Lokian way. The spirit should always be present for such a sacred act. She had to fight to bring Isaac into her reality, not be seduced by his – fight for tenderness and respect.

He turned her hand over in his and ran his thumb lightly over her palm. The strength and beauty of their shared energy flowed powerfully between them, radiating through his skin to hers. His touch made her tingle, sent intense, pleasurable shivers through her body and soul. At this moment she trusted him completely.

“Talia, you are overthinking this. The intellect is not involved during the sexual act; it is a primitive, instinctive thing. All you need to do is relinquish your control and surrender to me. Soon you will look back in wonder at this conversation and realise it didn’t help you understand anything. Surrender, and allow your primal emotions to guide you, and I will do the rest. Trust me, Talia, you won’t regret it, I promise.”

She swallowed. How was it possible to be so scared and yet feel so safe at the same time? She was expected to embrace intimacy with her captor, but he refused to reassure her with promises of kindness and tenderness. His emphasis was on primitive sexual connection, not the communion of two souls. In matters of the spirit, he was a child, and it was her responsibility to enlighten him. She vowed to remain faithful to her Lokian ideals whatever happened between them tonight.

“You want me to be your slave, Your Majesty.”

“You have been my slave since you arrived at my palace,” he murmured, examining her eyes with his impossibly beautiful ones. “Now we have to discover what that means for us.”

“For us?”

He glowered as he moved his hand abruptly from hers, leaving her bereft and floundering at her time of need. Her curiosity was angering him and she did not want to couple with an angry Isaac, but she could not relinquish autonomy on the last night it was hers. It was precious but completely at odds with Isaac’s need for control.

“Eat.” He pressed a piece of cheese against her mouth and she opened obediently, praying this small gesture of compliance would appease him. She had to be practical; her stomach was growling with hunger and she needed to be physically strong for the trials ahead. “Good, little visionary, that’s good. All you need to do is take care of yourself. You are overly preoccupied with a day that has not yet dawned. I want you to focus only on this moment in time and nothing else. That is your first rule.”

“I thought you were not implementing my rules until tomorrow, Your Majesty,” she whispered through a mouthful of cheese. He smirked.

“You are determined to cling to every last moment of liberty, Talia. It should help you focus on the here and now. Eat.”

Isaac ate little, focused only on sating her appetite, thinking of her needs and not his own. It was a powerful statement of intent. Her mind was jumbled with conflicting information, but this shone through her confusion like a beacon of light. Isaac was considering her feelings so she would do as he had asked her to do. She would trust her captor. It was probably a terrible mistake, foolhardy, stupid and reckless – but it was all she could do. Every bite she took led her closer to the abyss, to the end of this meal and the coupling Isaac had promised would happen tonight.

Promised, not threatened…

Trust.

Isaac had promised to initiate her gently. She had to trust he had spoken the truth. She had to believe in miracles if she was to survive tonight emotionally intact. She must remember the peace of her hand in his, the strength and beauty of their shared spiritual energy, and retain those feelings when his body was united with hers.

Somehow she must share this experience with Isaac, show him the wonder of spiritual connection. She would cling to her mission of converting him to the Lokian way for she would not be converted to his…

Katrina returned to draw the long curtains, collect the empty plates and replenish the jugs of water. She moved quietly and efficiently around the room, but could not hide her questioning eyes and furtive glances. Katrina was trying to understand what was happening between her king and Talia. Talia wished she understood.

Katrina left, and Isaac sprang into action. The time for questions was over; he had decided they had talked enough and that was that. Nothing was negotiable. She was no longer a free spirit in control of her own choices. Whether it was deciding what to wear or eat or how she spent her time, the choice was now Isaac’s. Her new master owned her body and all it did. But he would never own her spirit. Trust was one thing, surrender something else…

Isaac stared into her eyes as he removed her swaddling, peeling away her protection without ceremony as only a master would. The spectacular something surged into his eyes, keeping her vulnerability at bay. It was Isaac’s truth, the essence of his soul. Whatever it was, she could trust it. It was his gift from the spirit realms.

Her breath caught as he stood and began to undress, her heart thumping with a disconcerting mixture of excitement and dread. Soon they would be equal in the vulnerable state of nakedness, exposed and laid bare to each other. He pulled off his shirt, the shirt that had clung to her body on the long walk from the blue room. It smelt of Isaac, of sandalwood, orange blossom and musk, and now it smelt of her too. She and Isaac merged, their scents united as their bodies were destined to be. She swallowed as she stared at his muscular chest and the powerful arms that had carried her here. His beauty was bewitching. However hard she tried to concentrate on the softness in his eyes, she could not. The magnetic allure of his body was too compelling, their shared energy too powerful to resist. It coursed through their blood, surged through their veins, an irresistible and mystical magic. Isaac was inextricably connected to her, but he was also her opposite: masculine versus feminine, strength and brute force versus fragility and softness. She stared blatantly at his body, trying to force the familiarity and intimacy that took years of love and tenderness to build. It was the only way she could survive tonight. Lokians needed intimacy like they needed oxygen to breathe, but could she find that blessed gift here? With her captor? Her master? Her eyes returned to his. This was the way to forge a bond, not by staring lasciviously at his body.

“So, you like what you see, Talia. Good, I want you to enjoy tonight as much as I will.”

She was unashamed of her wantonness. The naked body was a beautiful, natural thing and Isaac clearly felt that way too. He had left all the lamps alight, demanding she experience this daunting act under their penetrating glare. There was nowhere for her to hide. Isaac wanted to experience uninhibited sensual pleasure, something she would normally embrace but this was not normal, not a loving act between soulmates and equals. Her heart thumped and her head spun as the conflict between attraction and terror escalated and became too violent to bear. Her visionary ideals were battered and bewildered, condemned to endure a destiny they did not understand.

But this was her destiny, a lesson she must learn. She swallowed hard and grimly concentrated on Isaac, determined to learn her lesson well. She must trust in the spirit realms – they always had a plan.

Isaac pulled off his boots, each discarded piece of clothing leading her closer to the moment of reckoning, the point of no return, union with the devil. She was not Isaac’s beloved bride, she was his slave to be used and debased. She shuddered as he unbuckled his belt.

“You are perfection, Talia.”

He dropped his trousers, and her mouth fell open at the magnificent sight. Strong, powerful thighs, taut muscled abdomen and…

She had been wrong. Isaac was not vulnerable in his nakedness. That was a woman’s burden. Her head swam as she stared, transfixed by his enormous erection. Demanding and majestic, it was as assured and domineering as its owner, making no apology for its arrogance. It was proud of its beauty, its supreme masculine potency… proud of what it was about to do to her.

“Shush, Talia, it’s alright.”

He slid onto the bed alongside her and a soft moan of terror echoed around the room. The ghouls had followed them here. Isaac’s palace was a refuge for disturbed souls, aimless, wandering spirits without a home.

Terrified, disorientated visionaries far from home…

The sound was coming from her.

“Come here.”

She remembered everything Isaac had told her. This was her choice. She didn’t understand how but it was. She had to make this move, not him. She stared at the enormous erection straining impatiently towards her, the veins standing out against its monstrously swollen girth. Isaac’s manhood was magnificent – and powerful, an irresistible instrument of love and pleasure or a deadly weapon of torture and despair. Which would it be tonight? Its owner chuckled, unabashed by her fascination with his member.

“Talia, I am mortally offended. Look at my eyes, not my cock.”

She raised her eyes, unashamed at being caught ogling her king.

“Come here,” he repeated, only the faintest whisper of urgency in his voice. His eyes were soft and playful, the spectacular something obliterating everything else that had been lurking there. It reigned supreme. She took a deep breath and crawled into his embrace.

He wrapped his arms around her in a possessive yet cherishing hold, capturing her within the inescapable carnal web of a king. She was cocooned in his strong arms and the tenderness in his eyes was overwhelming; Isaac was taking pleasure in their intimate embrace. This was not an emotionless man driven by riches and power, this king had genuine warmth in his soul. His chest hair tickled her breasts and his heart thudded against them as if he was terrified too, but that could not be right.

“Good little visionary,” he murmured into her hair. “You are exquisite, Talia. Let me show you just how exquisite you are.”

His swollen manhood throbbed against her belly as if agreeing with its owner’s words. It would not wait long for its pleasure. She whimpered pathetically and rubbed her nose against his face in silent entreaty, for what she did not know. He instantly responded, nuzzling his face against hers as if they had been sweethearts since the beginning of time. Somehow they were bypassing hours of conversation and forging an intimate connection in an otherworldly way. She stared into his eyes, liquid blue like the ocean, flooded with desire and tenderness and something she did not yet understand. The unique magic in Isaac’s soul. Her heart melted and foolishly allowed her captor to invade it before reforming as a new thing. It was part of Talia that now held Isaac tenderly within its midst.

“Trust me, Talia, that’s all you have to do, remember?”

“Trust,” she whispered for that was exactly what she was remembering. It was the only thing in her mind. She had trusted Isaac enough to allow him inside of her heart and now he was flowing through her veins alongside her blood, part of her as she was part of him. She was ready now – for this. For him.

She clung to the softness in his eyes as he brushed his knuckles over her cheek, every moment of tenderness increasing their intimacy. They stared into each other’s eyes for an eternal moment – and she watched in horror as everything changed. A dark shadow slowly eclipsed the spectacular something, her dreams destroyed by anger and mistrust. She trembled against Isaac’s newly taut muscles, petrified by the rigid tension in his body, shielding his soul and blocking her out.

Something was very wrong…

And then he scooped her up into his arms and marched towards the cage.

She clung to his shoulders, her head spinning as he strode inside and deposited her unceremoniously onto the cold stone floor. Her fingers curled around his bare skin, but he prised himself free, breaking the connection of their spirits and breaking her heart.

“Soon, Talia, soon.”

His whispered words were drenched with erotic promise and the spectacular something was fighting to stay in his eyes. But there was something else there too now, something monstrous, and it was winning the battle. It was cold and unyielding, defensive and hard, and it was building a wall between them. A sky blue wall designed to keep Talia out. Isaac was in hiding, denying the spiritual energy they shared, using every shred of his formidable will to construct impenetrable barriers around his heart. She stared, paralysed by fear and confusion, the unknown between them a terrifying thing. She had opened her heart and let Isaac in, and this horror was her reward. The spirit realms were punishing her for past life sins tonight. Isaac stared silently back at her, his eyes betraying nothing, and strode from the cage without another word. He padlocked the door as if she were a captive animal, a merciless predator toying with his prey before ripping out its heart and destroying it. She whimpered as he threw on his crumpled shirt and trousers and left the room without a backward glance.

She was alone again. Shocked. Numb.

She crouched on the cold stone floor, her bare feet icy against the bars of the cage, and shivered at the cruel chill in the air. The world was dark outside the long windows, as black as Isaac’s twisted soul with not a solitary star to guide her through the hell she was living. Night had fallen on her life and on Isaac’s palace, and it was freezing her body and her soul. The cornflower blue blanket that had been wrapped around her lay crumpled and discarded on the floor. Rejected and unloved just like her. She gazed at it longingly but knew even the warmest of blankets would leave her chilled now. Her spirit was frozen, splintering into knife-sharp icicles intent on piercing her foolish heart. How could Isaac do this to her? He had mercilessly seduced her only to revert to the role of cruel captor, leaving her naked and freezing in his cage. Where had he gone? And why? She had done everything he asked her to do, such a good little Lokian slave. His behaviour was barbaric. She shuddered and hugged her arms tightly around her breasts, trying to warm her painfully erect nipples, comfort the tiny taut pebbles tormenting her. She should be lying in Isaac’s bed, his lips caressing her warm breasts while their shared spiritual energy flowed between them. Instead – this.

Isaac had lied to her, there would be no gentle introduction to intimacy. No warmth between them. No trust. He was inhumane. He had manipulated her, seduced her, expertly executed his evil plan. Defeated her so easily it was shameful and destroyed her peace of mind. Isaac had won. He had reduced a Lokian visionary to a pile of helpless mush, her sanity scarcely intact. She could barely breathe and barely think, her mind a sluggish, confused mess. Her spiritual gifts had deserted her, so who was she now? Who was Talia? Her mind spun as her grip on her identity became fragile and tenuous. Who was she? Now Isaac had invaded her heart she didn’t know anymore. She shivered as she battled against her rising panic, focusing on breathing slowly and deeply and trying to quieten her thumping heart. Who was Talia? She no longer had any concept of herself at all. Once you began questioning the voice inside your head, the only way was madness and despair. She had lived twenty-nine summers with the voice of Talia and one night with Isaac had ripped it away from her. Somewhere in the distance her angel hawk was calling, reminding her of who she used to be. Before Isaac, before the devil seduced her with his beauty. A Lokian visionary beguiled by the illusions of the mortal world – it was pathetic. Despite the cold, her face grew hot with shame. She was pitiful, had capitulated so easily.

She stared at the iron bars surrounding her, at the manacles hanging from the cage. What torture and humiliations would Isaac inflict on her tonight? The unknown was infinite – and terrible. She was trapped with Isaac in hell for all eternity. Her heart raced so fast the room spun around her and her throat began to close, her breath reduced to shaky, desperate little gasps. She would die here tonight in this cursed cage – alone, unloved and conquered.

She pressed herself back into the bars, and the pain of unforgiving metal cutting into her tender flesh was strangely comforting. She was still alive, could still feel. Her soul was not frozen, she was still Talia. Isaac had not destroyed her yet. Her angel hawk’s cries were shrill and insistent, inviting her to fly to the spirit realms, escape the cruelty of the mortal world. Escape Isaac. Her stomach lurched, the bread and cheese curdling inside it, roiling together with her trauma and despair. She couldn’t leave her body undefended, take the coward’s path and run away. She was a Lokian visionary! She must stay in this stinking cage and fight, pray for the strength of character that would sustain her through the night and whatever horror it might bring.

She needed courage and spiritual resilience as she had never needed them before, but could find them only in the most foolhardy of places. She squeezed her arms around her chest, crushing her body, holding herself together as she acknowledged the terrible truth. However hard she tried to deny it only one thought would take shape in her mind. She was clinging to the impossible, to a miracle, believing in a dream when she was living a nightmare. Instead of concentrating on calming her agitated mind, she was thinking of only one thing.

Her new mantra. The pointless mantra of a foolish, deluded woman.

She was thinking of one hopeless, illusionary thing.

The spectacular something in Isaac’s eyes…

 

 

Isaac’s Mission

Fuck, she had got to him already! This was bad, very, very bad… but what had he expected? She was a Lokian visionary after all. He had felt the power of her magical gifts from the start, with his very first look into her mesmerising turquoise eyes.

He strode along the corridors, shaking his head violently but was unable to shake Talia out. She had taken root in his mind, his heart, his soul, his cock… It ached for her and her alone, no other woman would do, his world revolved around Talia. He tried to convince himself he had locked her in the cage because she was ready to start her training, but it was a lie. Lying was easier than the truth. The truth was terrifying. He had to put distance between them, imprison her magical powers within the narrow confines of the cage. It was the only way he felt even a modicum of control. He was floundering, bewildered by Talia’s effect on him. She had bewitched him, and he couldn’t control her glorious mind by simply locking her in the cage. He was helpless against her Lokian sorcery. He sighed, irritated by the relentless thumping inside his head that was making it impossible to think clearly. He had brought Talia here to learn about her mystical mind; he must be strong, resist her magic, not allow her to distract him from the game…

His game was intricate, a complex creation, designed to seduce and beguile. It ensnared and enslaved its hapless victims, turning them into adoring, willing worshippers of his splendour, of King Isaac’s dominion over the world.

The game always worked – it was inspired, a masterpiece, his gift… but he had a horrible feeling Talia’s gifts were greater…

He would not allow her to beat him at his own game; whatever it took, he would win this battle. He would do anything and everything to learn her secrets and win her undying devotion. Talia was the most revered of Lokians, at only twenty-nine summers worshipped by a people who genuflected at the wisdom of age. Her spiritual gifts were magnificent, awe-inspiring; she would be his greatest challenge. He would learn all about her, become intimate with her body in order to become intimate with her mind. He would enchant her with his sensual skills, bless her with so many earth-shattering orgasms that she would unwittingly disclose all the terrifying magical secrets of her people. She would be a quivering mass of love-struck woman, living only for the pleasure she would experience in his hands. Talia may be an acclaimed Lokian visionary, but he was the most gifted of lovers. She would be no match for him. His sexual prowess would ensure his victory. But Talia was a sensitive and spiritual woman, he would have to proceed with care.

He shuddered at the prospect of taking an unwilling woman, a sinking feeling sickening his stomach. He would never force himself on her, the thought was repugnant. The first time he looked into her eyes, a thunderbolt had hit, crashing through his world and creating it anew. There was something magical between him and Talia, and he knew she felt it too. He prayed it would ease the way for their physical union, help overcome her fears. Sex was something special to Talia, something profound he did not understand. She confounded him. Her enormous turquoise eyes searched his constantly, probing his soul, looking for God knows what and probably finding it. It was impossible to hide from her. Talia was magical. Her eyes were fathomless, as deep and mysterious as the ocean they resembled. Talia made his cock stiffen and stand to attention in a permanent erection bigger and harder than any he had ever experienced before. Her creamy skin, flowing auburn hair and curvaceous body were irresistible, but her beguiling physical beauty paled in comparison to the breathtaking spiritual wonder of her eyes. Those eyes. He had been doomed from the start, mesmerised by the intensity radiating between them, by the mystical knowledge in her eyes. He had ordered Katrina to take her away without saying a word to her, had acted like the arrogant, all-powerful king, but his mind had been in turmoil and had remained so ever since. What was Talia doing to him? Lokian magic was a terrifying and wonderful thing. He knew now why the people of Cornicunia were enchanted by it. Yet he still retained a little power of his own for Talia’s eyes never left him, as bewitched by him as he was by her…

“Isaac! I didn’t expect to see you wandering around the palace tonight.”

Abraham. His friend and most trusted advisor, the only man permitted to call him by his given name. Isaac sighed heavily. He could hide nothing from Abraham.

“Isaac? Are you conflicted about Talia?”

Straight to the point. They knew each other too well to indulge in idle pleasantries.

“I’m fine… if Talia is.”

Abraham nodded, his soft brown eyes not leaving Isaac’s. “Just as I thought, what you are planning is not easy. How is Talia?”

How is Talia? If only he knew. How could he be expected to understand her mysterious Lokian mind?

“She is scared and confused, but we have talked and come to an understanding. I needed a little time away from her to consider how to proceed. I’m going to take this slowly, Abra. I will not fail in my mission. I need to learn about the Lokians’ hold over my people, discover if my reign is under threat. Talia’s mind is my key to that understanding – but I will only learn the truth if she trusts me. She has to submit willingly, I won’t do this any other way. I don’t want to break her.”

“Of course you don’t.”

Isaac stared into Abraham’s all-seeing eyes and sighed again. His friend’s past life in the church had given him an uncanny ability to sense the spiritual conflicts and yearnings of others – and none more so than Isaac. Sometimes it was impossible to believe they were the same age for Abraham possessed a wisdom seldom found in one so young.

“I am finding it impossible to remain objective, maintain distance between me and Talia. I feel her emotional distress as if it is my own. What’s happening to me, Abra?”

“You’re asking me, Isaac?”

“Well, I certainly don’t understand it.”

Abraham stared soulfully into Isaac’s eyes. That stare said everything.

“I don’t think you have to understand it. Simply allow yourself to feel your truth and express it to Talia. That is the key to making her happy.”

“What the fuck does that mean, Abraham?”

Isaac rarely became exasperated with his friend but Abraham was undeterred. He clasped Isaac’s shoulder firmly, refusing to avert his eyes from his hostile glare.

“The Lokian way is a spiritual one, Your Majesty, Talia will respond to the truth in your soul. You feel I am overcomplicating the issue, but I am doing the very opposite. This is the simplest thing you will ever do, if…” Abraham allowed that tiny word to linger ominously for a moment before he continued, “If you open your mind to a different aspect of your character, an aspect neglected for many years. You are a young king, Isaac, only thirty-three summers, and because of your parents’ untimely deaths, you have borne much responsibility all your life. Allow yourself to be Isaac the man, not the king. I know a little of Isaac and he is a good, compassionate man. I admire him. I love him. Now you must discover him – and allow Talia to discover him too.”

After his mind-boggling speech, Abraham did what no other man at the palace would dare to do – he smiled enigmatically before walking away leaving Isaac with more questions than answers. Isaac shook his befuddled head as he watched his friend disappear around the corner and steeled himself for his return to his room. He had to face the magical little creature in his cage. This was not to be one night of carnal pleasure with a willing slave. Tonight was different from anything that had gone before, and he had no idea what would happen or how to deal with it when it did…

So he stormed back into the room like a man possessed, all fake bluster and command. He strode up to the cage, deliberately intimidating Talia with his powerful physical presence, and watched in fascination as her eyes grew wild and her body trembled with fear. He should feel guilty for scaring her, but he only felt irritation. She had to learn he was in control here. He was her king, her master – but he didn’t want it to be like this. He had never taken a reluctant woman and he wasn’t going to start now. He stared at her pale face and enormous haunted eyes. He felt such empathy for Talia, but his ego was overriding his compassion. He was bestowing the greatest of honours – he was the most powerful and desired man in the land. Every woman at court would envy her tonight. Didn’t she realise how lucky she was?

“Beautiful little visionary, waiting to satisfy my every desire.”

He opened the door and walked inside, conscious of his every action. Control was everything, control of her – and himself. No sudden moves, no pressure, no aggression, he had to coax her into wanting this. Irritation prickled again. Every other woman in Cornicunia would be eagerly attending to his every desire by now. Not Talia, she was a Lokian visionary, she was special – difficult, overcomplicated, above such earthly things. She expected a spiritual dimension he did not understand. More irritated than ever, he tore the manacles from the bars of the cage, and Talia’s eyes widened and became wilder than ever. She was a crazed animal trapped in the predator’s lair. There was nothing but fear in those turquoise eyes. Her shoulders were shaking, her arms wrapped protectively around her body, concealing her beauty. This would not do. He stared down at her, and her wild eyes desperately searched his. That was all they ever did, probe his soul, root around every crevice and corner, searching for buried treasure; what in God’s name were they looking for? There was nothing precious hidden inside of him, he was an open book who wore his needs and desires plainly for all to see. He had no need to hide, anything he wanted was his. He was King of Cornicunia. Sighing heavily, he crouched down beside her, watching her eyes become calmer as he stared into them.

“What are you doing to me, Talia?”

He shook his head to try to rid it of the tenderness, the intense, confusing empathy he felt for her. It was stealing his power. She was stealing his power by bonding him to her in some unfathomable way he did not understand. He loved it and he hated it, loved the intensity of emotion but resented this small woman for effortlessly doing what no one else could.

“No, Your Majesty, what are you doing to me?”

The sincerity of her words and the awe in her eyes restored his power. Talia felt the magic too. He shared a bond with this woman and there was nothing either of them could do about it.

“Don’t be scared, Talia, I’m not going to hurt you. You can trust me, remember? Give me your hand.”

Now he had his power back he yearned to reassure her, protect her with his strength and dominance, but she continued to stare into his eyes, searching, searching… Not content with their unsettling, mesmerising connection, she was intent on draining him of still more. His peace of mind, his sanity… He had to resist, stay strong. He had already compromised far too much for Talia. She slowly extended one hand while wrapping her other arm firmly over both her breasts. Oh, no, Talia, that will not do. He took her cold hand in his and a strange energy surged between them, an intensely primal living thing. The vibration between their joined fingers travelled through his skin and flowed into his bloodstream, spreading throughout his body, consuming him. His heart thundered, and her turquoise eyes widened, their luminosity mesmerising. Wanwisa, goddess of the sea. During his travels, he had heard the legend of Wanwisa, an ethereally beautiful woman who governed the oceans, reigning over the magical creatures of the sea. Now he had gazed into Talia’s hypnotic turquoise eyes, he believed this myth to be truth.

“Good, little visionary, good.”

He refused to bestow goddess status on her. He would reduce her, be her benevolent but condescending master. She was his slave and to acknowledge her as a goddess would mean accepting the terrible truth.

Talia was a thousand times more spectacular than he could ever be.

So he would call her a good little visionary as if she was his plaything instead of the most miraculous being to walk God’s earth.

He shook his head at his whimsy as he clipped the manacle around her tiny wrist. He stretched her arm out above her head and attached the other manacle to the bars of the cage. A deep sadness bloomed in her turquoise eyes.

“And now, the other hand.”

“Please, Your Majesty…”

“No.”

He had to be strong, resist her powers, be kind but firm. Show her how this was going to be. She shuddered, her slender shoulders shaking, but she gave him her hand and he tried to ignore the magical vibrations. It was impossible to do. He forced his eyes to remain on hers and not wander to her naked body. She was vulnerable, and he must be gentle – for now.

“Good.”

This was no way to treat a goddess. He shook his head, furious with his lack of control over the thoughts raging through it. Slave, not goddess. Slave. As he lifted her arm to manacle her other wrist above her head, he caught a glimpse of her naked breasts, jutting provocatively towards him. His heart stuttered and raced, and his cock hardened, blood surging at breakneck speed, making him giddy with desire. This was better, lust was familiar, reassuring, a portent of pleasures to come. He had always loved the ritual of the cage, relished the vulnerability and trust of an imprisoned woman, her eagerness to please him. Talia would surrender to his desires, honour him with her trust, and he would give her pleasure and respect in return. She would soon understand the rules of this game and lose her fear. He stood and stepped back to inspect the exquisite scene he had created. Beautiful, naked Talia, kneeling before him, arms chained above her head, huge turquoise eyes gazing pleadingly into his. Fuck! He did not like her expression at all. He had been kind and gentle. Her eyes should be brimming with trust and awe, not desolation and despair.

“I am honouring you, Talia. I hope you know that. Every woman in Cornicunia would love to be in your place tonight.”

“I know, Your Majesty, but please, understand, I am a Lokian and am different to the women you are used to. Sex is an intimate, sacred act for me.”

His fury rose like a volcano. How dare she bewitch him with her magic and then refuse to follow his rules? How dare she promise so much more than he had ever dreamed of and then rebuff him? He had not imagined the strange power of their joined hands, the magical energy flowing between them. Yet Talia remained impervious to everything – their connection, his kindness, all of it. She was rejecting the honour he had bestowed upon her, rejecting the attentions of her king.

How dare she?!

He crouched in front of her again and lowered his eyes to her breasts. Lush and full, the size of ripe peaches, her small nipples invitingly erect and begging to be sucked. Her waist was slender and elegant, the tiny swell of her stomach enhancing her sensual feminine allure. He stared at her perfectly smooth, hairless vulva, prepared for him by the skilled Katrina, his cock jerking with anticipation at the magnificent sight. Talia was perfection, and she belonged to him. He raised his eyes to meet her desolate turquoise gaze. There was no shyness or embarrassment there, only overwhelming sadness. He was feverishly aroused, irritatingly connected… and furious.

“Show some enthusiasm, Talia, or I will give you to the stable hands to satisfy their brutish desires. I have no interest in your inert body.”

She flinched, but her eye contact with him did not.

“Please, Your Majesty, not like this… I cannot bear it.”

She tugged impotently at the chains and stared imploringly at him, her eyes begging his soul for a mercy it did not want to give. His heart sank; how could he do this? He was not a rapist and that was most definitely what this would be if he persisted now. Talia was unwilling, she was rejecting her king. He would never give her to another man, but she didn’t know that. An evil plan took shape in his twisted mind.

“Talia, I will give you a choice: me or my stable hands. When you have made your choice, you will embrace it wholeheartedly, whatever it may be. There will be no reprieve, no changing your mind. You need to be sure you make the right decision.”

He stared menacingly into her eyes, manufacturing as much hatred and vitriol as he could muster. He needed to get away from her, the one woman he wanted and could not have. He was furious. She had been honoured by her king but was unmoved, impervious. She had no respect for him at all.

“Your Majesty, please…”

“No. Be silent and consider your decision, Talia, you have offended me enough. I have shown you nothing but kindness and understanding yet you dare to disrespect me. You have until morning to decide. You will enthusiastically embrace the honour of my attentions or I will give you to the stable hands for their pleasure.”

He left without another word, his breath short and ragged as he fought for control. The blood stormed to his head, stoking a burning cauldron of anger and confusion. He needed to rant and roar, expel his frustrated sexual energy, satisfy his rampant, throbbing cock. Force Talia to submit to his will…

No, that could not happen, he would not allow her to reduce him to that. He glowered at the woman hanging naked from his cage, scowling at her trembling naked body. She was deliberately provoking him with her ripe beauty, tempting him with all he could not have. Little Lokian temptress… she would learn her place. A tiny whimper escaped her luscious lips, embedding in his heart, tearing at his soul. He felt Talia’s pain. He was lost, bewildered, bewitched… He was a mess. Damn! He would never be able to sleep tonight! Insubordinate, obstinate Talia… he wished he had never brought her here. Lokian visionaries were nothing but trouble.

He undressed with his back to her but felt her eyes boring into him, penetrating his soul. She would not desist. Talia would never let him rest; she was determined to haunt his every waking moment, infiltrate his head and steal his peace of mind. This was Lokian magic; their persistent staring could drive anyone insane. He stood there naked as the day he was born and swore he could feel her huge turquoise eyes probing inside his mind. Fuck! His head was thumping and his cock was throbbing, and he had had enough!

He stalked over to the cage to be greeted by her enormous mournful eyes. Her naked sex peeped out between her legs, taunting him and making him angrier than ever. Talia was teasing him with all he could not have, boldly tormenting her king. The most disrespectful slave ever. He fisted his cock, thinking of all the debauched things he would do to her when she finally surrendered to him. Talia, his exquisite little visionary sex slave. She was destined to be his. He stared into her stunned eyes, challenging her to meet his lustful gaze. And, of course, she did. Talia was brave – and stubborn. But he would make her his slave.

“I will have you, Talia, you belong to me now. Ensure you make the right decision.”