The Pharaoh's Champion

Tranquillity ebbed around her limbs like she was floating in a pool of water. A quiet calm took over, she felt serene, and at peace.

 "Zahra," a disembodied voice called.

 Mother? In her euphoric state, all she could manage was a contented murmur in response.

 "Yes, though I am not the mother you're thinking of."

 How do you know what I'm thinking?

 There was a soft chuckle all around. "Because I am your mother. I helped create you."

 You did? She asked with a blissful sigh. Then, who is my father?

 "You have already met him."

 The curiosity built, but it wasn't overwhelming. Something was keeping her mellow.

 Am I dead now?

 "You are between worlds, submerged in The Living Waters. Your Pharaoh brought you here just in time. The poison was strong, it is not easy to bring down someone of your divinity. But thanks to Maahes' guidance, and your time in the Waters, you can awaken, with all of your powers restored."

 Oh, it is a pool. Zahra floated, weightless, feeling The Living Waters soak into her skin.

 "Now Zahra, my child, are you ready to go back?"

 Where?

 "To go back… To him."

 Yes, she thought in excitement. Yes, I am ready.

 "You must be certain. Soon, you will need to make a choice, and if you continue as you are," there was something like hesitation in their voice, "you, my child, will suffer more than anyone."

 There was an unspoken meaning behind her words, she could taste it.

 "Nothing ever truly dies," she answered.

 She could feel a sense of satisfaction around her, as though the entity held her in the lapping water.

 "Then awaken, my child. Your destiny awaits you."

The echo was soft, and gentle. Instantly, her surroundings seemed to change, she could feel her body scrapping against a hard surface.

 The sound of her name seem to blend with another, until it became a whole new voice, calling out to her in desperation.

 Soon she felt a second whoosh that knocked the wind out of her, as though she was being dunked.

 "Open your eyes!" A command, rather than a guided awakening.

 Her eyelids were heavy, weighted like she had never used them before. It took a few minutes to gather the strength to tear them open.

 Then she was met by blurred vision not like before, more fuzzy as though her eyes were adjusting to being underwater. The light above bringing life to the water that still rippled from being disturbed above her. It was soothing.

 Through the comforting tones, there came the sudden boom of a frantic voice slicing over the calm.

 "Zahra, open your eyes!" Words that seem filled with worry and hope, raw from emotion.

 It begged her.

 As her mind started to piece together the memories of what happened, her body started to do the same. She began to feel a pair of strong arms cradle her head and legs, holding her in the water. They clasped around her with the same desperation as the voice she heard calling her name.

 "Please Zahra, come back to me."

 Then came the pain in her thigh, flooding back in a crashing wave.

 The shock sent her flying upright, her face bursting through the surface.

 Her chest heaved for air, gasping as water cascaded off her face.

 The first thing she saw, was everything. Somehow her sight had been restored. A miracle she would be thankful for the rest of her life. For just a breath away from her, huffing in a mix of exhaustion and panic, eyes wide with disbelief, was her reason for living. Her reason for forsaking the warning her birth mother gave her.

 For one glorious lifetime with this man, would be worth suffering for.

 "Ph-Ph… araoh?" her body slowly eased its gasping and spluttering, her breathing returning to normal.

 A soft and regal hand brushed against her cheek. He said nothing, as though he couldn't believe that this was real. In the same breath, part of her worried that this was also fake. That her mind had somehow played another cruel trick on her. So much had happened, she saw so many things, then nothing. She had learned so many things, about herself.

 All she knew now, was the arms that tightened around her sent a familiar feeling of heat that penetrated to her core. She tingled all over and felt herself flush from her head, right down to the tips of her toes.

 Only one man could make her feel like this.

 This must be real. Her face curved into a wide, grateful smile.

 "I see you," she laughed, the most genuine noise she had ever made in her life. "I see you, Pharaoh."

 There was a glint of a tear his eye as he cautiously allowed himself to smile. "It's just you and I here now, Zahra. You can call me by my name."

 Her eyes locked onto his gaze, and dropped to his lips.

 His name was like a prayer on her lips.

 In the next breath, they were kissing. Stirred from the adrenaline of redemption, it was hot, passionate and a little rough, sending the slight tingles she remembered, crashing through her like waves.

 His arm slipped from her head and swept around her back, pulling her into his chest. Without breaking their lips apart, he lifted her like she weighed nothing, leaving them both waist deep in this pool.

 Sliding an arm around his neck, she braced herself and wrapped her legs around him. Groaning as both their bodies collided together, she couldn't help noticing his excitement.

 In the midst of it all, he kissed her like he couldn't get enough of her. The unbridled passion that ignited between them seemed never-ending. Small whimpering noises that escaped the back of her throat, seemed to spur him on even more.

 A gentle, floral breeze brushed against beads of sweat.

 Letting one hand find an anchor in the mane of his hair, she allowed the other to slip down over his shoulder and his arm, feeling his muscles that bulged under the strain of baring her weight. The glide of wet skin, against wet skin leaving her feeling desperate.

 Yes, more. I want more. Her mind and body screamed. I need more.

 A carnal, almost feral, desire rose inside her. An unparallel need to claim, protect and love.

 He pulled away, somewhat abruptly. Their chests heaved.

 She stared into his eyes, watching as they seemed to dart around her face, analysing, perhaps slightly hesitant to keep on going. Even now, cautious in whether they should go on, his gaze was commanding. He held all the cards, had all the power.

 She knew him well enough to know that he wouldn't relinquish it easily.

 Trying to understand the Pharaoh was like learning a new, complex game. You had to know how the game would react to cards that you played, and the best way to learn, is to play. At times, the fates seemed to want them to separate, tragedy after tragedy threatened to break them apart, but here they were again.

 Here they were, like an endless elastic stretching of events. What would move them apart would only succeed in bringing them even closer together. She would never force this to carry on if he didn't want to, but there was only one thought that seemed to be at the front of her mind.

 I'm tired of fighting this.

 Every fibre of her body thrummed. Suddenly she realised that her white, wrap dress had been taken off, leaving her in her fighting suit. Most likely the Pharaoh took her dress so he could get a better look at the wound on her leg. It still throbbed, reminding her that she was alive. That everything she was feeling now, was real.

 Yes, if it's you, then maybe, even I might… She had decided in that moment, the hand that she would play, or rather, the piece that she would remove from play.

 Unable to break his hypnotic gaze, she slipped her hand from his hair. Slowly and suggestively, she brushed it over her shoulder and tucked a thumb under a strap.

 He froze, his fingers digging further into her thighs. She kept his gaze, watching like a hawk for any sign that he wanted her to stop as she pulled it down. Helped by the water, her arm slipped out with ease, leaving a bare, milky neck and shoulder. The only blemish that remained was the odd freckle from the sun and the red mark of her fighting suit, which seemed to quickly fade in the cool of the water.

 Empowered. That was how she felt right now, watching this powerful man's throat bob as he looked her up and down. Her hand glided over her wet skin to the second strap, still nothing in his eyes said to stop and she wasn't sure if he was even breathing. Never before had she ever felt such control over a man when he wasn't in a head, or an arm lock. It was a whole new feeling of power.

 Soon she was left bare, the water of the pool gently lapping at her breasts, as a salty breeze tickled her top lip, in reaction, she ran her tongue over it.

 A mischievous glint appeared in his eye, that was all the invitation he needed.

 He moved, directing her until her back was pressed up against a warm, stone wall. Once they hit the edge, his mouth claimed hers, he moved his tongue against her mouth, urging her lips apart.

 She allowed him in.

 Gods above, she shattered at the feeling of his tongue gliding against hers. He tasted like he smelt, an intoxicating mix of cinnamon and spices, but it seemed so much more intense with her new awakening.

 Sweet, so deliciously sweet.

 She trembled against his hard body, he responded by holding her even tighter, not a drop of water could slide between them. There was a fleeting thought in her mind, that he craved the raw passion spiralling between them. Something that threatened to uncage the wild beasts that resided inside them both.

 And she would willing surrender it to. To him.

 Please, Gods… Let this never end.

 It wasn't long before the sounds of sweet oblivion echoed off the walls of the chambers.

 ****

The shadows were dark, they hid him well. In silence, with the patience of a salivating predator, he waited.

 She would need to step out eventually.

 The sound of footsteps came from up the corridor. They were fast paced, the movement of someone with a schedule to keep.

 As if rehearsed, he turned to the supply station he waited by, busying himself with washing his hands and fiddled with his facemask as if try to make it comfortable. He already had the standard scrubs on and tied his wild hair back, so he blended in well with the hospital staff.

 The footsteps came and went, their pace never changing.

 A grin came over his face, but it quickly melted away when he heard a door open and a gentle hand touch his shoulder.

 "Excuse me."

 Making sure his facemask was secure, he turned to face a woman stood in front of him. Her eyes were red-rimmed from tears, a flush in her cheeks and a slightly pink nose. Tissues poked out of her pockets and her voice was still slightly shaking with grief, but her eyes held a small glint of hope.

 He recognised her in an instant, his eyes bulged, he never expected to come face to face with her. Would she have any idea who he was? She shouldn't, they had never met.

 She must have sensed his shocked, and quickly retracted her hand from his shoulder. "Please can you let me know where the toilets are?"

 He gave some directions to a different unit, knowing full well toilets at the ICU were just behind him, tucked down a discreet alcove it was far too easy to walk straight past. She nodded and forced a smile on her face in thanks.

She didn't see the sickening grin behind the mask.

 Waiting until she was out of sight, he slipped into the open room like a shadow in the night.

There she was.

 The blonde haired demon who thwarted his every attempt at victory. Now limp, and lifeless, clinging to life by tubes and beeping machines.

Placing a determined hand on the handle, he pulled the door closed, taking his time, savouring every second of seeing her so weak and vulnerable.

 Like a vulture who had been waiting painstakingly for its prey, starving and desperate, he could hardly contain his excitement.

The click of the lock seem to echo through time.