Mack (King #4)(12)

Our ship capsized.

The gods truly do hate me. But why?

~~~

My first thought when I came to was that I was dead. However, the dead didn’t feel their faces and bare chests burning from the hot sun, their ribs didn’t throb with multiple cracks, and their lungs didn’t spew saltwater and blood.

But the beautiful topless woman with long black hair, large brown eyes, and creamy dark skin, kneeling over me, had to be sent from the heavens. I’d never seen such a lovely creature.

“Finally,” I mumbled, “the gods are doing something kind for me.”

The woman spoke in a strange tongue, her voice filled with sweetness as she lovingly stroked my face with her soft hand, as if trying to comfort me.

But the moment I heard strange male voices screaming off in the distance, I questioned my assumption about being dead. So then where the hell was I?

Within seconds, a group of extremely short men with deep dark skin and strange black symbols painted over their bodies showed up and began poking me with sticks.

“Leave me be,” I said. I now know I must’ve looked like someone from a faraway planet. With my height—considerably tall, even by my people’s standards—light blue eyes and a black beard that matched my hair, I was probably the first Caucasian they’d ever seen. They kept jabbing at me to see if I would bite. Of course, I was far too weak for that. And before I knew it, they were dragging me through the jungle.

When I woke again, lying in a roughly woven hammock, half out of my mind with pain, thirst, and hunger, I was in a small mud hut with a fire pit in the middle. The same lovely woman kneeled over me, lifting my head to drink.

I sipped only a little before the taste had me retching.

“What in the gods’ name is that?” I muttered.

She simply smiled and then swabbed my forehead with a damp cloth that smelled like sweet fragrant herbs. I assumed she believed speaking was a waste of effort since we couldn’t understand each other. In reality, I picked up new languages quickly, but I felt much too tired to do much of anything besides lie there and hope to die quickly. The pain was intense despite her presence soothing my soul. She exuded a quiet, loving energy I instantly connected with.

Did she feel the same? I wondered.

My eyes took in the small dwelling adorned with strange animal hides stretched out on wooden frames, along with dozens of sticks that were tied together to form symbols.

Talismans, I realized. Our Seers used similar trinkets to communicate with the spirit world.

I looked back at her and noticed the way her eyes stared without fear or question. Like she knew something I did not.

She’s a Seer, I realized. Dear gods, that’s what she is. I assumed they weren’t called that by her people, but it didn’t matter. The gods decided which bloodlines were gifted with powers. They decided who was chosen to carry out their will.

“Uk’ik,” the woman mumbled and then reached for a small wooden bowl. She wanted me to drink again.

“No, no, thank you,” I protested. “I think I’d rather die.”

“Uk’ik!” Her brown little nostrils flared.

“You don’t like being told no, do you?” I said.

She pointed to the bowl and then my mouth, smiling stubbornly.

“I suppose whatever it is, it’s not poison.” I lifted my head obediently and caught a glimpse of her beautiful creamy brown breasts and dark nipples. The women of my island went topless much of the time, so breasts weren’t much more to me than a neck or set of lips; however, something about this woman’s body captivated me. Even on my deathbed, I wanted to touch her. Every silky inch.

She helped raise my head a bit higher and seemed pleased when I drank the concoction. She then pushed me back and stroked my cheek.

“That made you happy, didn’t it?” I said.

She stared for a moment. “Hap—py?”

“Happy.” I gave her a weak smile, the best I could do.

“Happy.” With a grin, she stood and gestured for me to stay and then left the hut. I imagined she went to be with her people somewhere not too far away.

So who was she? And where the hell was I? I didn’t know, but I felt as though the gods had guided me to this place to die peacefully. Only, now I felt a tiny spark of desire to live. Something about this woman made my soul flicker with light.

~~~

Over the next few weeks, I saw the woman—no one else—twice a day. When she was gone, I missed her company, especially the exquisite view. When she came to stoke the fire and bring fresh water and food—some strange mush mixed with meat—animal unknown—she would stare at me the way women do when they want a man. Yes, I was no stranger to women. Taking my pleasure from them was one of my favorite pastimes back on my island. Drinking wine had been the other. It was why my people had loved my brother and not me. He cared for them, helped them, and protected them. I did none of those. Draco and I were similar only in our looks—blue eyes, black hair—identical, in fact, but that was where our similarities ended.

As for my host in this strange new land, I tried to learn her name, but it was useless. She would only gaze at me with those soulful brown eyes. Such temptation. But frankly, as much as I wanted to stay and continue trying to communicate, I had to face facts: I was becoming stronger, thanks to her gift of healing, which meant I had to attempt to return to Minoa. My redemption was counting on it, as was the soul of my brother, whose tortured spirit now wandered aimlessly between this world and the heavens. Unless I returned the stone to Mia, my brother would remain that way for eternity. I couldn’t allow that. As long as it takes, whatever I must do, I will bring my brother back and return all that I robbed him of. Yes, I’d killed him because he’d demanded it. But I should’ve said no. I should’ve told him to fight Hagne’s family and that I would’ve stood by him in battle. But no, like a fool, the fool I’d always been, I’d let my brother do the thinking for me.