I Enslaved The Goddess Who Summoned Me Chapter 327 327: Siara's dream (1)

Siara was dreaming.

But this was no ordinary dream—no fleeting, nonsensical vision conjured by a restless mind. It was a mory, vivid and sharp, as if she had been transported back in ti.

A little more than a year ago, a few months before they were transported to this world. A Saturday.

The week had been exhausting. Long hours at her prestigious private school had drained her, leaving her desperate for an escape. Shopping with her friends seed like the perfect way to unwind, a much-needed reprieve from the suffocating expectations placed upon her.

Her mother, however, had other plans.

"No," Sarina said firmly.

The woman standing before Siara was none other than her mother, Sarina—Sienna's and her own guiding force, for better or worse.

Sarina had the sa auburn hair as Siara, neatly tied into a bun, and striking blue eyes that shimred with authority and concern. Despite being in her mid-thirties and the mother of two teenage girls, she carried herself with a grace that defied her age. Her figure was lean yet alluring, a combination of disciplined upkeep and natural beauty. Anyone who t her would have easily mistaken her for soone in her late twenties rather than a woman well into motherhood.

Siara crossed her arms, her lips pressing into a pout. "Why?" she asked, a hint of frustration creeping into her voice.

Sarina let out a soft sigh, her expression unreadable. "I don't trust anyone out there."

Siara frowned. "But my friends are going with . It's not like I'm alone."

"Yes, and they're all girls," Sarina countered, her tone unwavering. "What happens if a group of n approaches you?"

Siara rolled her eyes. "Mom, nothing is going to happen. You're overreacting."

But Sarina remained unmoved. She knew her daughter's beauty was striking—captivating, even. She wasn't naive enough to believe that ill-intentioned n wouldn't take notice. And knowing Siara's stubborn personality, she feared things wouldn't end well if she ever found herself in a dangerous situation.

"In two hours, the sun will set," Sarina reasoned. "If you really want to go, you can wait until tomorrow morning."

Siara groaned in exasperation. "Who goes shopping on a Sunday morning, Mom? That's ridiculous! Please, just this once?" She clasped her hands together in a pleading gesture, hoping her mother would relent.

But Sarina's expression remained firm. She had no intention of letting her daughter go out unaccompanied.

Just then, the front door clicked open.

Siara turned toward the entrance, already dreading what was about to happen.

A young man stepped inside, carrying a bag of groceries in one hand. He was a few years older than Siara, his brown hair a striking contrast against his sharp yet indifferent features. Nathan.

Sarina's expression imdiately brightened. "Oh, Nathan, you ca at the perfect ti!"

Siara's stomach sank. She could already see where this was going, and she didn't like it one bit.

"Mom!" she protested, but Sarina was already ignoring her.

Turning to Nathan, Sarina flashed him a warm smile. "Thank you for running that errand for , dear," she said sweetly. "But before you put those away… I have a favor to ask of you."

Her voice was gentle, coaxing—almost too sweet.

Siara groaned. She knew exactly what her mother was about to say.

Nathan blinked in mild surprise at Sarina's sudden request, but his lips soon curled into a small smile.

As he stood there, his gaze wandered—almost unconsciously—toward Sarina's ample chest. It was difficult not to notice. The curve of her bountiful breasts pressed subtly against the fabric of her blouse, and the faintest glimpse of lace from her bra peeked through the slightly loosened top button. Given the warm temperature, she had likely unbuttoned it for comfort, but to Nathan, it was an unintentional yet undeniably captivating sight.

Siara noticed.

Her sharp eyes flickered to where Nathan was looking, her stomach twisting in irritation.

But what could she even say? He was a man, after all. And her mother—whether knowingly or unknowingly—was far too indulgent with Nathan.

In fact, sotis, it felt like Sarina spoiled him even more than she did her own daughters.

Perhaps that was why Siara had never been on the best terms with Nathan. It wasn't outright hatred, nor was she overtly hostile, but she had made sure there was a clear boundary between them. She didn't treat him like family, nor did she give him the warmth that Sienna and her mother did.

Because Siara knew.

Nathan wasn't looking at her like a newfound little sister. His gaze toward her held sothing else—sothing less innocent. And it wasn't just her. She had seen the sa look directed at Sienna and even their mother.

Unlike her sister and mother, who seed completely oblivious, Siara was not so naive.

The re thought of Nathan eyeing all three of them like that made her stomach churn with unease. It was almost disgusting—almost. And yet, she couldn't fully bring herself to despise him. Because despite whatever thoughts he harbored, Nathan had never crossed a line. He had never acted on it.

Still, it didn't change the fact that she wanted to keep her distance from him as much as possible.

Unfortunately, today, she wouldn't have a choice.

"Can you accompany Siara outside?" Sarina asked, her tone gentle but firm. "She's going shopping with her friends, but I don't want her going alone this late."

Siara groaned. "I won't be alone," she repeated, exasperation creeping into her voice.

Sarina ignored her.

Nathan's gaze flickered toward Siara, as if sizing up the situation. Then, with a small shrug, he nodded. "Gladly."

A bright smile spread across Sarina's face. "Thank you!" she said cheerfully, stepping closer and pressing a quick kiss to Nathan's forehead. "I'll have dinner ready when you get back. Don't stay out too late."

Siara grumbled under her breath, barely concealing her irritation. But without another word, she turned sharply on her heel and headed toward the door. She was already dressed and ready to leave—no point in wasting any more ti.

Nathan handed the grocery bag to Sarina before casually following after her, his footsteps light and unhurried.

Siara didn't bother waiting for Nathan as she stepped outside. She moved with purpose, her pace brisk as if putting more distance between them would sohow make his presence less annoying.

Behind her, Nathan closed the door with a quiet click, taking a mont to pocket the keys before following after her.

"Do you want to rent a car?" he asked casually, easily matching her stride despite her clear attempt to walk ahead of him.

"A car? For what?" Siara scoffed, barely sparing him a glance. "It's just one stop away by bus."

Nathan chuckled softly, as if amused by her sharp tone. "Right."

Siara sighed. She hated how unbothered he always seed. She had expected so kind of argunt, or at the very least, a comnt about her attitude—but he just accepted it with that sa infuriating smile.

"I'll be with my friends, and I don't want them knowing about you," she stated bluntly, stopping in her tracks to turn toward him. "So stay behind . Keep your distance. Can you do that?"

To her surprise, Nathan rely nodded, his expression calm and unreadable.

"Okay."

No protest. No sarcasm. Just simple agreent.

For so reason, that unsettled her more than if he had argued.

They soon arrived at the bus stop, where a small crowd had already gathered. As expected, the Saturday evening rush had begun—groups of friends, couples, and workers filled the area, all waiting for their ride.

When the bus finally pulled up, it was nearly full, and the mont the doors swung open, a flood of people surged forward. Siara wasted no ti slipping inside, skillfully weaving through the bodies to secure a spot near the back. She leaned against the window, gripping the tal bar beside her for support.

Nathan, however, wasn't as quick.

He was cut off by a wave of passengers pushing their way in, and Siara couldn't help but smirk at the sight. At least now he wouldn't be standing anywhere near her.

By the ti the bus doors closed and the vehicle jerked forward, Nathan was positioned several feet away, lost in the sea of bodies.

Good.

But as the bus rumbled down the uneven road, Siara started to feel uneasy.

It was crowded—uncomfortably so. She hugged her bag tightly against her chest, her fingers gripping the straps like a lifeline.

She was surrounded.

Tall, middle-aged n occupied the space around her, their broad shoulders pressing in from all sides. The bus's constant movent made them sway, their bodies bumping against hers again and again. At first, she dismissed it as accidental—just the unavoidable consequence of being packed into such a tight space.

But then it started happening too often.

Too deliberately.

Hands brushed against her in ways that didn't feel incidental.

A nudge against her hip. A lingering touch against her arm. And then—

Siara froze.

A hand. On her thigh.

Her breath hitched as icy dread clawed up her spine.

She was wearing a high skirt. There was nothing shielding her bare skin from the intrusive touch. And worse—

The hand didn't move away.

It stayed.

Pressing. Gripping ever so slightly.

Siara's mind blanked.

Is this really happening?

Panic paralyzed her tongue. She wanted to yell, to push him away, to do sothing—but she felt trapped, suffocated by the overwhelming weight of fear pressing against her chest.

Her fingers trembled around the strap of her bag.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

Please let this stop. Please—

"GRAHH!!"

A sudden groan shattered the tense atmosphere.

Siara's eyes snapped open just in ti to see the man who had touched her jerk forward—his body slamming against the tal bar in front of him. His head collided with a dull thunk, a pained grimace twisting his features as he staggered backward.

The bus jolted again, but this ti, it wasn't the road's doing.

Soone had shoved him.

The man whipped around, his face contorted in fury. "Y...;You!!"

"Sorry," a familiar voice drawled smoothly. "I tripped."

Siara's breath caught in her throat.

Nathan.

He was standing there now, positioned directly in front of her, his posture relaxed yet firm. His lips curled into a smile—a deceptively light expression that masked sothing deeper, sothing unreadable.

There was no anger in his face. No open hostility.

And yet, his presence alone sent a chill through the air.

Siara had never seen that kind of smile before.

Or rather—she had.

And she hated it.

It was the sa smile he wore when he looked at them—not as family, not as siblings, but as won. That slow, knowing curve of his lips, the glint in his eyes that always unsettled her.

It disgusted her.

Yet, as much as she wanted to ignore it, there was sothing different this ti. Sothing darker.