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.
Talia and Isaac Page 5