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EXCERPT
Lords of the Abyss Book Three
CAPTIVE OF THE DEEP
By
Michelle M Pillow
Mermen. Mermaid. The lost city of Atlantis. The Greek god
Poseidon. A curse. An eternity. Apparently all real, and all adding to her
living hell.
In truth, she had no idea how long she’d been trapped in
Atlantes, or rather the palace in Atlas, capital city of the country of Ataran.
It was all she managed to learn about her new home—not from lack of anyone
trying to teach her.
Days blended into what could have been weeks or months, or merely
days. She really couldn’t remember. She was offered food. She was spoken to. She
was led around the palace and shown things. Someone took her outside where there
were trees and a dark blue watery sky pressed against a magical dome. She was
introduced to people.
None of it registered, not really. They were merely passing
moments in a blur of half-reality. And then, her mind woke up.
“We should go to the banquet hall tonight. The king has requested
that we attend the celebration of a wedding.”
It was the first sentence she’d really, fully heard. The low
voice had been saying more, but she couldn’t recall what had been said before
that sentence. Though the voice was familiar in tone, she finally looked
directly at the man who spoke for the first time. He was the one who had saved
her. Rigel the Hunter. That’s what the others called him. Rigel. She had heard
that name a lot in her half-life fog.
His hair was dark, but not black, and his eyes were grey. No,
they were actually more of a metallic silver. His expression was stiff, but she
seemed to recall there being moments of tenderness around his eyes. She also
recalled having hit and kicked him on several occasions when he had tried to
wake her from a nightmare. By the look of his strong body, her fighting hadn’t
done much damage. Though he was dressed, she could still see most of his body
from beneath the gracefully draping tunic. It only fell to his upper thigh. His
legs, arms and one shoulder were bare. Her eyes focused briefly on his smooth,
hairless chest, trying to remember what he felt like. Surely, she must have
touched him, but yet her fingers couldn’t recall the texture of the tanned
flesh. Blinking slowly, she let her gaze fall to the leather strap sandals on
his feet.
“We should go to the banquet hall tonight,” Rigel repeated. “The
king has requested that—”
Her eyes shot sharply to his face, cutting him off. He sighed
heavily, as if torn between speaking and just turning and walking away from her.
He had strong features to go with his chiseled body—high cheekbones, a strong
jaw, eyes that seemed to pierce into her. Slowly, she nodded in understanding.
He appeared almost relieved, excited even, by the small gesture.
“Here,” he said, turning to grab a folded stack of clothing. “The
tailors brought these for you. They finished them this morning. Since you had
nothing to say about what you would like to wear, I took the liberty of choosing
a few styles. Perhaps you will find something you like. I will be happy to order
more for you. You can’t be pleased with just the white gown Althea gave you to
wear. Many women are particular about their clothing, at least here they are. I
assume it is the same on the surface world. As I have said, I wish for you to be
well cared for.”
Had he said that before now? She couldn’t recall. All her
memories since coming to Atlantis were stuck in a mist, mere impressions that
became fuzzier the closer she looked at them. He placed the clothing next to her
on the couch and stepped back. She ran her hand over the deep blue of the gown,
feeling it’s softness against her fingers. Her lips parted to say thank you, but
she couldn’t form the words.
© copyright 2011 Michelle M. Pillow
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the
author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living
persons or events is merely coincidence.
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