The Sea Witch (Wicked Villains 5)

But then, that’s my problem, isn’t it? I have a feeling she’d walk the exact same way even if I weren’t here.

I follow her through the doors and into the warmth of the building. The reality of my situation cascades over me as we step into an elevator and it ascends.

A virginity auction.

That’s what she wants me to do. Sell myself to the highest bidder.

Two days ago, the possibility would have made me laugh. Me, Triton’s youngest daughter, stepping onto a stage and embracing the humiliation of a bidding war? Never going to happen. Except it’s what I’m agreeing to, and the knowledge sits like shards of glass in my throat.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.” Ursa sounds almost kind. A quick glance at her gives no lie to the first impression. Her eyes are still cold, but I have a feeling they don’t warm often, so I don’t take it personally. But she’s smiling at me as if trying to be reassuring.

I turn back to face the shiny elevator doors. “Yes, I do. As you pointed out in the car, I have nothing else to bargain with.”

“Is he worth it? I’ve found that men rarely are.”

Is she closer? I’m not sure, but I’m suddenly achingly aware of how the cut of her dress gives the faintest tease of cleavage. I jerk my gaze away from her reflection, but it doesn’t help. Even though there are a polite twelve inches between us, she’s everywhere in this small space. My face is flaming and I can’t make it stop. “He’s worth it,” I finally manage.

“I think you’re wrong.” She shrugs. “But I suppose young love conquers all. Even if that’s not how most of the stories go.” Her laugh is deep and sensual, and my skin prickles with something like need in response.

I close my eyes, but even that doesn’t help. I can feel her there, just out of reach. I have the strangest desire to sink to my knees and beg her to stroke her nails along my skin. What is she doing to me? “Stories aren’t real life.”

“No, but they contain a multitude of lessons that a clever person heeds.”

The doors slide open before I can formulate a response, but what response is there? I’ve decided to do this, so I’m going to do this. It’s such a small sacrifice to make for Alaric’s freedom. People have sex for money all the time. It’s the world’s oldest trade, or near to it. There is no shame in making this choice.

The room we enter is nearly empty, except a desk in the center and a bold black door behind it. Behind the desk sits a beautiful Black man who smiles when he catches sight of Ursa. “Good afternoon.”

“Don’t stand on formality on my account, Adem.” She moves around the desk, and he rises so they can exchange air kisses on each cheek. When she leans back, she’s smiling. Not just smiling. Her eyes are warm with fondness, and she grips his shoulders as if she genuinely cares about him.

I don’t expect the jab of envy. I don’t know what to do with the strange response. Ursa is not a friend. She might not be an enemy—though my father would argue otherwise—but she’s a stranger. What should I care that she obviously likes this beautiful man with his perfect skin and perfect laugh that seems to fill the empty room?

He turns that perfect smile on me, and it’s everything I can do not to lean forward in response. The man is magnetic. He shifts fully to face me as Ursa releases him. “And who might you be?”

Ursa laughs, a low and melodious sound. “Tell Hades I have a delightful little surprise for him.”

My gaze swings to her. Somehow, it didn’t occur to me that I’d be meeting Hades. The man responsible for Alaric’s situation. But then, that’s not entirely accurate, is it? Hades only offered the terms of the deal. Alaric made the choice to take it. It was something else that drove him to those lengths. Someone else.

Maybe someday he’ll trust me enough to tell me the full truth of it.

Adem instantly goes back to his professional mask, his smile fading to something practiced, the warmth in his eyes shifting to polite interest. “Of course.”

Ursa drifts in my direction as he picks up the phone. She ends up between me and the desk, hiding my view. “You have nothing to fear here.”

I almost laugh. “I’m about to sell my virginity. There’s a lot to fear here.”

Her expression is almost kind as she lifts a hand to curl a length of my hair around her fingers. I go stock-still, not sure if I want to pull away or move closer. Ursa drops her hand before I reach a conclusion. “Consent is everything, darling. Nothing will be done to you that you don’t want to happen.”