A wicked storm is brewing in 19th century New Orleans, and a mythical being by the name of Prince so happens to find himself thrust in the very eye of it. Because of this sudden change in circumstance, he ends up forming an unexpected bond with anot...
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It was the distinct scent of incense and earthy herbs that triggered my conscious. Then it was the subtle movement of a person's feet shuffling around that catapulted me into reality.
My lungs suddenly filled with air as I took an audible breath that made me feel like I was breathing for the first time. In that instant, my heavy eyelids slammed open, and I was met with the view of a brownstone and clay soil ceiling.
"You're awake." A gentle voice announced to the left of me, my head whipping to face the person it belonged to. Though the lighting in the room from the burning candles set upon the niche in the walls was dim, I was still able to make them out.
Right before me stood the likes of a woman I have never seen before. The first thing that caught my attention were the thick and messy ginger locs that fell to her hips, which were adorned in the most intricate beads and jewels. Wisps of curls that escaped the intentional lock of her dreads framed her alluring face perfectly, and her neck was layered in colorful beaded necklaces.
Her cheeks were high, lips were full, and she had the warmest set of brown eyes I had ever gazed upon. Even in the flickering light, I could see that her bronze skin complimented it all. What surprised me the most was the sheer black gown adorning her body that left absolutely nothing to the imagination.
Not that I was complaining.
Tearing my eyes away from her practically naked figure to meet her gaze, I licked my dry lips before uttering, "Who are you? W-where am I?"
Instead of answering either of my questions, she grabbed for something on the cluttered wooden table behind her. When she turned around, a little olive vial was in her hands. I wanted to press her further, but she swiftly approached my bedside before kneeling down and pressing the opening of the vial against my lips.
"Take this." Her demand was firm yet gentle. Those two insignificant words allowed me to grasp the strong accent in her tone that I didn't pay attention to before. It was an accent that didn't sound like the southern drawl that belonged to many of the residents down here in New Orleans. An accent that sounded like it came from a farther land, a land once familiar to me. . .
Taking my focus off of her voice, I gazed from the small bottle to her welcoming amber eyes, almost forgetting that she was a stranger and that I didn't know whether or not I could trust her. Though her beauty was enough for me to forsake every precaution, I couldn't allow myself to fall victim to any heinous acts she may have had under her sleeve just because I wanted to fuck her. I had no idea what was going on and I needed answers before I took anything from her.
"I-I'm not taking that." I refused quietly at first, causing her to pull the bottle away from my mouth whilst looking at me with a raised brow. "I don't know you, I don't know where I am–" My wrists clanking like metal as I tried to move garnered my attention, just to find them sealed in rusted chains attached to the mattress I laid upon.
