Nightmares were the worst. Whether it was the thundering pulse throughout my core, the sweat riding down my skin, or the demented dreams themselves, it didn’t matter. The nightmares always left mental scars on my soul.
The dark didn’t make it any better, so I kept candlelight near my bed. That way, I could look at the shadows cast against the bright wall and know who was there: me. And my cat (-demon hybrid), Hades.
Hades would wander into my room at the brothel, camouflaged in the night. He was free to come and go as he pleased. And only by choice did he stay with me, recognizing me as his caretaker.
(Okay, the food I gave him swayed his decision.)
Nonetheless, he remained loyal to me since I rescued him from life on the streets when he was only a kitten.
Not that I would wish my life on anyone. Even my enemies. Then or now. My life had been messy for as long as I could remember. But it would get better. I would rise from the ashes. One day. And when it happened, I would make my enemies pay.
As I stared at the dull gray silhouette, having emerged from a nightmare with a throbbing pulse and sweat-ridden skin, paws brushed against the paneled floor, growing closer and closer. And a faint meow, a call for me, reached my ears.
I crawled to the edge of my four-poster bed and glanced down. Small front limbs pressed against the mattress. Jade-green eyes, adorned with vertical dashes for pupils, met my eyes, begging.
Another meow gently caressed the atmosphere before Hades shifted higher on his hind legs. As my muscles relaxed, I smiled at him and lay on my stomach. “Is Madame Aeress still awake?” I asked him despite knowing he only understood my madame's name.
To restate, Hades was free to wander where he pleased. He was no human and was consigned to no law or restriction. And as someone who society consigned to work and regulation, my eyes couldn’t witness what Hades did. But I could only wish to do so.
I could only dream of being free, being so small that very few paid attention to what I did, and being able to weave through the fields and stalk prey with the utmost stealth. If it did come true, losing my freedom would be very easy.
Very easy.
After shoving the thought away, I gathered Hades in my arms and brought him to my chest as I fell back into my thin pillow. He meowed, pawing at my linen nightgown. Meanwhile, I caressed the inky-black fur.
“Hades,” I whispered against his head as he tried to scratch at me, but he began to purr at the sound of his name, and he stopped trying to claw at me. Underneath his skin, he rumbled. I let out a chuckle and stroked his pointy, triangular ear.
More purring.
“You like that, eh?” And I kissed Hades’ head.
Footsteps pounded against the wood panels, growing louder and louder, closer and closer. Hades wriggled out of my grasp and dashed out of the room.
The footsteps ceased, and for a second, I believed it was an apparition haunting the brothel. My heart drummed loudly through every part of me, and I stiffened like a statue with ragged breaths.
Then, familiarness, a deep laugh, sounded in the distance.
I relaxed with a sigh. The footsteps didn’t belong to an apparition. No. They belonged to someone living—a friend of mine.
Equally resonant words soon followed. “Sorry for startling you, Hades.” Another laugh carried through the air. The footsteps started again when the words faded until two bare feet appeared under my door curtain.
I scrambled out of bed, shoving the curtain to the side. My close friend stood in the doorway in only a long, loose tunic and undershorts. A pulse took over my core, pleasurable but running like a river. “Therion,” I breathed, closing the space between us, “what are you doing up?” I knotted my knuckles in the collar of his tunic and gazed into his eyes. Light green irises that could make a forest pale in comparison.
Two fingers hooked under my chin, lifting my head, and our eyes aligned. “Couldn’t sleep,” was his answer. His irises flicked to the side. “Did you have any clients last night?”
A rush of cold blood swarmed against my cheeks. “No,” I breathed and turned my right foot to the side. “You?”
“Unfortunately, no.” Therion let out a chuckle, something not quite feral but not fully tame either. His black lashes danced as he continued, “You’d be surprised by how many men and women are unwilling to pay for sex from a man.”
“You might have to spin a lie,” I offered, “or show them what they’re missing.” As Therion squinted at me, I stretched my mouth open in a smile. “Trust me.”
Therion rested his nose against the panel of my cheek next to my nose. “How exactly do we show them what they’re missing?” Adorned in the night, dim candlelight illuminating his dark, sleekly-arranged tendrils, he put a speck of space between us, not much, but enough.
“Working together goes against Madame Aeress’ rule,” he pointed out, slanting a thick brow.
I pouted and tapped my nails against his toned chest. “You’re no fun,” I said childishly. “Breaking the rules is exciting.”
“When you’re young, maybe,” he whispered as if being in his twenties was old. In a way, it was. For what it was worth, he had more experience in life than I did, and from the time I started working at the Serpent Brothel, he had used it to teach me.
Lately, however, he seemed different. He’d ignored my pleas for release, for one speck of freedom for the past month. He didn’t even engage in conversations with the others who worked here if the topic was about Madame Aeress in a negative context. He just passed by, whistling and staring at us as if his gaze could set us afire.
I wondered what had changed. And then it hit me: she had arrived at the beginning of Leo. Now, my eyes were wide open.
How had I not connected the events?
A faint voice swarmed in my brain: Stupid Mercy. Stupid. There were no other words for the situation. I should’ve realized why Therion seemed different.
“Therion,” I whispered harshly against the dim room and bit my lower lip. As I unknotted my knuckles from his tunic, my breath was ragged. My core throbbed, begging for release, a hunger I didn’t know how to satisfy.
“Mercy,” Therion replied, his voice warm like a fire, “w—”
Without wasting a single breath, I cut Therion off. “You’re in love with Nyra, are you not?” After the last sharp syllable of the question tore through my chest, I met his thin, almond-cut eyes and backed up against my mattress.
Silence loomed over us. No response. Of course not. Therion wouldn’t put his goals at risk by admitting them aloud. Even to me. Unless he had no choice.
I tightened my jaw and gritted between my teeth, “Answer the question!”
“Yes!” Therion threw his hands in the air. He narrowed his eyelids, making the shape of his eyes more like slits. “Happy?” His nostrils flared as he seethed with anger, something I’d only seen him do once—when one woman (a one-time client of his) returned to the brothel, this time with a nobleman following her…
None of us knew her name. At least, at first, we didn’t. Most of us enjoyed anonymity. Her flawless, white skin set upon pixie-esque features was what made her recognizable. Little brown waves of hair peeked out of the floral cloth wrapped around her head. She floated over to Therion, whose lids seemed nonexistent.
My heart raced as she and Therion spoke in sharp whispers. I wondered what words had left their mouths. Then it occurred to me neither of them had taken the contraceptive herb. Perhaps, her lotus had bloomed, as Therion once explained it to me.
Meanwhile, the young and stout nobleman observed from a close stance. The nobleman’s eyes drifted to me for a moment, and he rolled his eyes before returning to Therion and the woman he was with. Then, seconds later, his fist connected with Therion’s jaw, and he bellowed like a monster, “You have no right to our family, Therion.”
As silence swelled throughout the brothel, staring eyes throbbing against the atmosphere, my heart began to pound. Why was Therion being treated this way? Why had the nobleman slapped him?
Even if he had done something wrong, it wasn’t as if Therion had any control over his situation. For the most part, none of us brothel workers did, and it wasn’t as if we had a say in our job choice. So what was there to blame?
My heart pounded even faster as I observed, for the first time, Therion seething. His skin glowed with a vermillion hue. Same as now.
I had crossed a line somehow. But hadn’t we both? I sighed and squeezed my eyes shut. “Therion, I think we need space from one another. It’s best. We’ve both blurred the lines, and we both need something different than one another. Don’t you agree?”
My breath became ragged, and I opened my eyes. From a height of six-foot-three, the soft green hues of Therion’s irises caressed my soul, calm now and gentle, too. His palm rested tenderly on my cheeks. “I do agree.” He gently kissed my forehead and said, “We need time away from one another.”
I relished the warmth of his arms encasing me in his frame. It was long and tender. If I had stayed in his arms longer than I did, there was no telling what I might’ve done, the rules I would’ve broken, and the boundaries I might’ve shattered.
I was chaos in the making. I was a storm ready to strike. Sometimes, I felt like the dark side of the moon. And there was no telling who would face my nature. So, it was better to shut down advances before I destroyed everything precious. In this case, it was my friendship with Therion.
“Therion,” I whispered, and my breath hitched, “you need to go.” I peeled his arms from my waist, my breath in my belly. It was as if I were saying goodbye. Permanently. And if there was one thing I hated, it was goodbyes. And as much as I wanted assurance that this wasn’t the end, there was no way to know for sure.
“Don’t worry, Mercy,” Therion said as the space between us grew and grew. He was at the opening in the wall when he finished with, “I’m not leaving your life permanently. Ever.” And that should’ve soothed me. But it didn’t.
I nodded, my lips tightening into a straight line. Inside, I wanted to scream as the walls of my heart collapsed, one by one. When we reentered one another’s lives, I somehow knew we wouldn’t be the same people we once were. Whether it would be for better or for worse … I couldn’t tell. Not yet.
“I love you,” I choked out as tears began pricking my eyes, then I turned away from him, climbing back into bed.
For a second, the audible sound was of us breathing. Footsteps didn’t fade into the distance. My heart was heavy in my chest, and I waited for a new sound: any sound but our breathing.
Please, I begged inside.
The core at the apex of my thighs throbbed. (I would masturbate after Therion left). But for now, I could do nothing. Not when Therion remained present in my quarter.
I wanted to turn around and say, Please, leave. Now. Alas, I didn’t. I kept it in my head instead. But for how long would I stay strong? I needed privacy. And the longer Therion took to say goodbye, the harder it would be to resist the temptation of falling into his arms, ruining the boundaries and relationship between us permanently.
So, I held back a ragged breath and turned to face Therion, who had a glum expression. Everything seemed to droop or sag—even his eyelids. From what little of his eyes were visible, tears making kaleidoscopes in them were evident. What could I say to him? But before I could open my mouth to beg him to stop, he rolled his lips together and let out a sigh. “One week, Mercy.” And he disappeared into the hall's darkness, his footsteps fading away.
Meanwhile, my heart thundered in my chest, and I buried my face in my thick pillow, one of the amenities I was grateful for obtaining by working at a brothel. At the same time, his voice echoed in my brain.
One week. One week. One ….
Gods, this would be hard72Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡA1oUSfHGzK
