𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗿𝘂𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘀, luke castellan

ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ-ꜱɪx

A Deal with the Devil.

🌊

RORY PLACED A REASSURING HAND ON LUKE'S ARM, trying to divert his intense gaze from Circe before he got turned into a guinea pig. Luke remained tense, his muscles coiled, ready to draw Backbiter at the slightest provocation. The glint of the blade peeked out from its sheath, a silent testament to his readiness for battle.

"I'm sure we can work something out," Rory said, her voice steady yet soothing. She forced a smile, hoping to convey a sense of calm. "There's no need for any violence."

Circe's eyes narrowed as she scrutinized Rory, her gaze flickering between the three of them, as if she were evaluating whether they were worth her time. Luke's glare remained unyielding, a silent challenge that hung in the air like a drawn blade.

After a moment of contemplation, Circe relented, her expression softening slightly. "Fine. We can negotiate," she said, her voice dripping with a mix of annoyance and curiosity. "But I'll only speak with the girl alone."

Luke's reaction was immediate. "No way. We're not splitting up," he declared, stepping protectively in front of Rory. The tension in the room ratcheted up, every muscle in Luke's body poised for action. His eyes flashed with defiance, ready to challenge Circe's authority if it meant keeping them together.

Circe's lips curved into a knowing smile, as if she had anticipated his reaction. "Such loyalty," she mused. "But my terms are non-negotiable. Unless you want to leave empty-handed of course."

Rory squeezed Luke's arm gently, trying to reassure him. "It's okay. I'll be fine," she said softly, trying to convey confidence and calm. She looked him in the eye, willing him to trust her. "We need that ship."

Luke's jaw tightened, glancing between Rory and Circe. Finally, with a reluctant nod, he stepped back, though his eyes never left Circe. "Fine," he muttered. "But we'll be right outside."

Circe's delight at the arrangement was evident, her eyes sparkling with amusement. She reveled in the control she held over the situation, a sly smile playing on her lips.

"Oh good, maybe we can do something about that nose, and oh gods that hair!" Circe exclaimed, her voice dripping with feigned concern as she guided Rory out of the room. The sorceress's words were clearly meant to provoke, an attempt to undermine Rory's confidence and have her fall under Circe's spell, just like the rest of the resort guests.

Rory rolled her eyes at the obvious taunt, refusing to give Circe the satisfaction of a reaction. She cast a final parting glance at Luke and Chris, both of whom stood tensely by the door. Drawing a deep breath, she steeled herself and followed Circe out of the room, the door closing behind them with a soft click.

The room she entered, although smaller than the previous, was no less grand. The walls were adorned with tapestries depicting mythical scenes-heroes transforming into animals, ships navigating treacherous waters, and gods casting their spells. Each tapestry was rich in detail, the colors vibrant and the scenes so lifelike that they seemed to move when viewed from the corner of one's eye.

The floor was covered in plush rugs, woven with intricate patterns that seemed to shimmer in the ambient light. The soft, luxurious texture cushioned Rory's steps, contrasting sharply with the cold, hard floors of the various ships she had grown accustomed to. Furniture crafted from rare woods and adorned with gold accents complemented the room, each piece a masterpiece in its own right. Black silk curtains framed expansive windows, allowing glimpses of the outside world-a perfect paradise where girls smiled and laughed, so far removed from the painful realm of mortals.

Circe turned to look at Rory, analyzing every nuance of her expression. Rory felt a prickling sensation at the back of her neck as Circe's gaze lingered, making her acutely aware of the power and danger this sorceress embodied. Rory took in the room, her eyes sweeping over the lavish decor, but she made sure to always keep a cautious eye on the witch, just in case. The opulence around her seemed designed to distract, to lull one into a false sense of security, but Rory wasn't about to let her guard down.