Aticklingsensationlappedat his ankles as the crash of waves filled his ears. Brooks always imagined the ocean during his relaxation techniques, but never had it felt so real.
“Wake up, prince.”
Brooks’ eyes shot open and adrenaline charged through his system at the intrusive feminine voice. It wasn’t the lyrical voice of his Siren or Lytta’s scratchy alto.
A black sandy beach surrounded by craggy shores and unforgiving waters stared back at him. Wind blew through his shaggy locks and rustled his heavy clothing.
He looked down in surprise, the feel of the material different from the lightweight scrubs he was used to. Black leather hugged his arms atop a gray cotton t-shirt and ripped black jeans.
“Do you not recognize yourself, prince?”
His head swiveled toward the intruding voice and was taken aback to see the sightless woman swathed in white that haunted his dreams almost every night.
“Atropos?”
“What a clever, fragmented man to pull out a name on such a whim,” she smirked, but there was a sense of pride behind it.
“I see you. Every night, I dream of you. But,” Brooks glanced around, “we’re never on a beach. AndInever speak to you.”
“Oh?” she hums. “And if you don’t speak to me in your dreams, then who does?”
“My passenger,” he answers without hesitation. “He’s always in control of my dreams.”
“Have you ever thought, little prince, that perhaps he’s in charge of your dreams because they aren’t dreams at all?”
Her insistent use of the word ‘prince’ was irritating, but the way she seemed to mock him with the term ‘little’ rubbed against his skin like steel wool.
“Always speaking in fucking riddles,” Brooks murmured under his breath. “I’m assuming asking you questions does me no good then.”
“And why is that?”
“Uh, more riddles?”
“Maybe you’re asking the wrong questions.”
Brooks rolled his eyes because of fucking course she would say that.
“Okay. What is this place?”
“This is where your journey begins.”
Brooks analyzed the beach and up the jagged cliffs. Static built in the air and raised the fine hairs on his neck. The tinge of metal sat on his tongue in anticipation of the impending lightning strike.
A heavy fog obscured the landscape as waves crashed against the rocks like claps of thunder under their feet. Everything about this island screamed desolation and danger.
Brooks swallowed the rising fear and settled on irritation. He wouldn’t let a dream get the best of him.
“Why are we here?”
“Try again.” Her eyes never looked from the endless horizon.
He let out a sarcastic laugh.
“This is just a shitty, empty island,” he scoffed.
“Look through your passenger’s eyes.”
“No fucking way.” His heart raced. “I try to avoid that bastard, I’m not calling him out to play on purpose.”
