Chapter 68 Remake.

Chapter 68: 68 Remake.

I tossed and turned on my bed for hours. Which was difficult when you realised it was a king-size mattress and Egyptian cotton sheets.

I couldn’t sleep properly because Divina was still in my bounds and REM sleep when my brain was still active.

And Divina wasn’t exactly making it easy either, she continued to squirm even hours later—to the point I actually considered the dungeon.

But no. I turned to see the clock by the side of my bed. 7:43 AM.

Great. No sleep today. I got out of bed and moved downstairs where Divina sat at the table still squirming.

"When are you gonna give it a rest?" I asked as the needle in my brain feeling came back.

She said something through the muffling fabric in her mouth. Probably a curse—seeing the eye, definitely a curse.

Alright, fine. I walked over to her and removed the fabric. "Happy?" I asked.

She nudged her binding at me and I brought up a finger just to put it down. "No." I said walking to the other side of the counter where the cupboards were. "How did you find me?"

"You were a sloppy scoundrel." She said with indignation, back straight as she met my eyes. "Are you a coward, Polaris?"

"Why do you ask?" I turned to coffee maker and turned it on.

"You take me hostage in your home with your sex slaves—"

"Wait! Wait! Wait!" I stopped her immediately. "Absolutely no one is a sex slave here."

She narrowed her eyes like she didn’t believe me in the slightest. "Not even the mut who’s screams echoed off the walls yesterday?"

Oh my God. I dragged a hand down my face. Honestly had no idea they could hear me, and if they could why didn’t anyone say something.

Well, it wasn’t like this was a functional relationship anyway. I liked to think about this the same way I thought of the mob.

People in the mob lived together for protection all the time, shared meals to promoting camaraderie and worked together as a family.

But the mob didn’t fuck each other. At least mine didn’t.

"Rhea’s not a slave here." The pot of coffee was ready as I stretched over an poured us both a cup. "Everyone’s here of their own free will."

"Including me who you abducted, put in the trunk of your vehicle and kept me tied up against my will throughout the night?"

I slid a cup in front of her. "You’ll be out of here by the afternoon." I glanced at the nothing watch on my wrist. "Whenever they get here."

She glanced at the cup in front of her, then tilted her head and stared at me before raising her cuffs again. "Undo the bindings."

"How did you find me?" I took the cup to my lips and took a long sip. "I’m discreet. And don’t draw in attention."

"I am Divina. Daughter of Artemis, goddess of the hunt. She raised me to see through a cheetah’s spots." She raised the cup with cuffed hands and brought it to her lips. "Your trickery is beneath me."

I waited for the sip. Just one and her face instantly scrunched up like she’d tasted poison. "What vile brew is this?"

"Coffee." I said with a deliberately long sip. "But alright, have it your way. They’ll come get you today and you’ll be out of my hair."

Really couldn’t have a Mythic around me. Not only were they unhinged, they acted they were from another wrong all together, and sometimes that meant a varying degree of insanity.

Their powers were usually the basic things you’d expect, either they were blessed by a god from one of several mythologies, or they got their powers through something traumatic and assumed they were one, or they got some magical artifact that imbued them with god-like abilities.

There was no such thing as too far in this world. Take for example, Bloodshot who, I kid you not, got his powers from getting struck by lightning while falling off a building just got hit by a car.

In the quiet sips of coffee I could hear clatter down the hall. Wondering who it could be, I left Divina with her poison and headed down the hall.

Louder as I got closer to the gym where Glacia was going to town on a training dummy that I now felt bad for.

As soon as she spotted me she straightened up. "Sir, you usually sleep in after a job and most especially after your night with the dog-girl, are you alright, sir?"

I winced at that. "You heard what happened last night?"

"Of course I did, sir."

"And you’re okay with it?" I asked carefully.

"Of course, sir." She nodded. "I am like your second-in-command. Your number two."

I stopped mid-bite. "My what?"

"Your number two," Glacia explained primly, apparently becoming more enthusiastic about the concept with every word. "The second-in-command of your organization. Traditionally, that position goes to the henchman or lover you trust most, someone capable of acting in your stead whenever you’re unavailable."

"Right. Yes. But—"

"And naturally," Glacia continued, looking increasingly pleased with herself, "there is nothing particularly unusual about a number two becoming physically involved with their master. If anything, it can be quite beneficial for fostering loyalty and strengthening the bond between them."

"It can?"

"Certainly, sir. Maintaining relationships within the Order is notoriously difficult, particularly when both parties are equally powerful. It isn’t unusual for a second-in-command to develop a rather intimate connection with their leader."

"Huh. Interesting," I muttered, taking another bite of toast. I couldn’t exactly claim to understand much about the Order’s internal customs.

I’d spent most of my time trying to stay as far away from those lunatics as possible, right up until circumstances had made that impossible.

"And naturally," Glacia continued, standing with posture so stiff it impressed a Victorian governess, "I am not expecting you to remain physically exclusive to me."

"You did say that," I replied. And she had. Much to my surprise, Glacia had been quite upfront about it.

"Of course, sir." She gave a solemn nod, as though delivering a lecture. "I understand that a proper villain may have several women to attend to his needs. My father’s associate, Starstruck, kept a dozen women around him who assisted him quite capably. I see no reason why the mighty Magneron should not have a comparable number of lovers."

Well, that was certainly... one way of looking at it.

"So what are you doing here?" I pointed at the dummy next to her. "Feels like you’re always working out now."

"Yes, sir." Glacia looked down. "I believe it’s time I remade my debut."