Siren Song (The Fated #1)

12 | Cuffed

The throne was a strange shape, but its central positioning told her that, that was what it had to be. Only one side of it had an arm rest, the other side stretching out with about two more feet of cushion. She imagined it was so that whomever ruled over this room could tuck their legs up next to them, and recline for as long as they felt necessary.

She turned her attention from the throne to the walls, which held a handful of windows. They were massive, stretching from the tip of the twenty-foot ceiling to just inches above the stained floor. Fear flooded through her veins at the sight of the inky black that existed beyond the window frames. Where she should have seen the outside word, there was only darkness.

"Let me get a look at you."

Iliana spun to face the voice. Standing only a foot in from the closed entryway was a man who stole her breath away. His skin was a dark, golden tan that somehow seemed to emphasize his stunning amber eyes. Coal black hair hung in unkempt strands, framing his sharp face. He towered above her, although he was lean where Lykos was massive.

"You're--"

He waved a hand, amusement playing across his lips. "Yes, yes, I know. Excuse me for ignoring my good manners, but you must understand I've been waiting for this for a long time. Umae doesn't like me traipsing around in his lands, so I couldn't call to you until you neared land..."

Shock seemed to hold her tongue still as the man paused in his rambling. His eyes studied her, curiosity shining behind his unsettling gaze. She blinked, and suddenly there was only a half-foot of space between their bodies. The man caught her chin before she could protest, and tilted her head from side-to-side, before releasing her chin with a satisfied smile.

"Just as I remember," he decided.

"I... what?" Iliana asked.

He nodded to himself, and turned on a heel. Within seconds he'd crossed the distance left between him and the entryway, seemingly content with whatever he'd gained from his strange assessment of her. As his fingers curled around the door handle, however, he glanced back at her over his shoulder. Embarrassingly, Iliana had yet to budge even an inch from where he'd left her staring after him in shock.

"Oh, I should warn you," the god mused. "This place, it looks nothing like this in the real world, but... I have no control over the appearance it takes in this realm, either. It is the public opinion that sways the plane of thought."

And with those cryptic words, Koun disappeared. Iliana had but a second to turn her gaze to the blood covered room, before she, too, disappeared.

And then, there was nothing.

¸.•*¨*•.¸♪¸.•*¨*•.¸♥¸.•*¨*•.¸

Shouting on the upper deck jolted Iliana awake. For several moments, she laid still staring at the cabin ceiling. Her mind was struggling to piece together the details of her rather strange dream. It took effort, as if the memory itself was attempting to slip awake.

When she'd laid down the previous evening, her typically dreamless sleep had been interrupted by... whatever that place was. Then, the man... the one she'd instantly recognized from the statues and pictures she'd seen inside the healers rooms growing up. She'd visited them more often than most--the sad result of having a sickly mother--and had spent years being entertained by tales of Koun's mischievous deeds. Koun, the god of fortune and healing... what did he want with her?