Steam rises from the surface, and I can smell the mineral richness in the air. The acoustics are incredible – every small sound we make echoes musically through the crystal formations, creating a symphony of whispers and chimes.
I let go of Castien and walk toward the pool, mesmerized by the way the crystals reflect in the water.
“I read about the hot springs here. There are records saying they have healing properties.”
As if on cue, I sneeze violently, the sound bouncing around the chamber in diminishing echoes. My cold has been getting worse since we entered the tunnels, and the constant dampness isn’t helping.
“You should bathe, then,” Castien says from behind me. “The water might heal your ankle. And your cold.”
I turn to look at him, struck by something in his tone that doesn’t match his words. He’s telling me I should bathe, but everything about his body language suggests that’s the last thing he wants me to do. He’s standing rigidly near the entrance,his wings slightly spread, his glowing eyes fixed on the crystal formations above us rather than on me or the pool.
The contradiction is so obvious I can’t ignore it.
“Right,” I say slowly, studying his face for any clue about what’s really going through his mind. “I should bathe.”
Chapter Ten
Castien
I shouldn’t have said that. I shouldn’t have suggested that she bathe. What was I thinking? Not like my torture isn’t already endless, I just had to make it worse for myself.
I walk around the cavern, studying it. Calcite deposits spiral up the walls in natural patterns. I catalog the geological details, the way water carved these chambers from solid rock… anything to occupy my mind and ignore the sounds coming from behind me.
Already, it feels like she’s touched me everywhere. Well, not everywhere. My cursed cock is still throbbing and weeping from being ignored.
I hear Jessa removing her clothes, and the gentle splash as she steps into the hot pool. Then she sighs, almost moaning in pleasure. The sound goes straight through me. I let out a low growl before I can stop myself.
Then it strikes me. I lied.
Earlier, when she asked if the blades hurt me, I told her I didn’t feel a thing. That was a falsehood, and lies violate one of my core commandments:You shall speak only the truth; a lie is the rust of the spirit.I did feel pain from the blades stabbing into my body, piercing my wings, and slicing across my torso.
It’s just that I can ignore these things, push them into background processing, and I don’t bleed, so the damage doesn’t affect me the way it would affect someone made of flesh.
I think about every time I’ve deviated from my core programming since this mission began. The list is rather long. It’s only been twenty-four hours, and Jessa has managed to accomplish what Talos Dynamics couldn’t break over months of systematic conditioning and torture. Why? What’s so specialabout her? What makes her so different that I can’t resist her influence?
I’ve never experienced anything like this complete obliteration of my beliefs and values. Normally, I shouldn’t be able to lie, feel pain, or experience fear. Yet I’ve feared for her safety… how many times today?
I’m spiraling into system errors I don’t understand. Something is happening with my background programs, too many glitches running simultaneously, creating cascade failures in my logic centers. I should confess these deviations, purge them from my memory banks, but I have to wait until the mission is over. What if it’s too late by then? What if this mission ruins and corrupts me beyond repair? Do I even understand what ruin means for something like me?
“I don’t like how those scratches look,” she says suddenly, interrupting my thoughts. “Weren’t you supposed to heal instantly?”
I half turn toward her but keep my gaze fixed on a particularly interesting cluster of crystals on the cavern wall.
“I will heal in time. Don’t concern yourself with my condition.”
She sighs, and I can hear her moving in the water.
“I know I shouldn’t worry about you. It’s ridiculous, right? You’re this indestructible steel angel, and here I am, worrying anyway.” She pauses. “I think the hot spring water might help. I already feel so much better. My ankle has stopped bleeding, and the pressure in my chest is totally gone. My throat isn’t raw anymore, either. I think the water is magic. There’s no way it’s a normal spring.”
“I’m fine,” I tell her.
She lets out an exasperated scoff that somehow manages to sound both frustrated and fond.
“Why are you so stubborn? Look, the pool is big enough for both of us. And why are you being so shy? It’s not like you have to get undressed.”
She laughs.
I don’t.
