by Hazel Grace
A warrior.
A Viking,
A human.
Standing a few feet away, I’m already on the defense waiting for him to make a sudden, misguided move to attack me again. His chains rhythmically rattle as he moves his hands around his body to bathe, but his eyes stay locked on me.
Showing me he’s just as suspicious of me as I am of him.
“What do you want now, Blood? I told you I’m not going to talk.”
Hesitantly, I reach for his wrist, and surprisingly, he lets me take it. His skin is raw, caked in blood while the rest washes away with the water.
“Are you going to try and seduce me, too? What are you, sixteen?”
My eyes dart up to his and narrow. I’m a Princess of Lacuna, and he’s going to respect me if I have to make him bow just to be petty.
“Seventeen?”
I lock my jaw, my temper starting to rise.
“I think we’re pushing it with eighteen, Princess,” he admits.
This...I bite my tongue, holding off the next words that want to filter into my head.
His insults aren’t going to get me to break. A prideful man who likes to tease and berate women isn’t the worst thing I’ve dealt with in my life.
Reaching up into my hair, I find one of my small barrettes. He watches me intently as I place it inside the small lock of his chains.
“That isn’t going to do anything,” he contests. “You need a key.”
I ignore him. He doesn’t know anything.
About me.
About what I’m capable of.
About what I need to know to protect myself and my family.
We’re becoming a rare species, many of us have died due to lack of food from the fishermen and pirates excessive fishing.
“Why are you helping me?” he gripes, sounding ungrateful.
Surprising.
I bet if someone offered him a meal while he was starving, he’d reject it because he didn’t hunt it himself. I’m amazed he’s been eating here, but it’s more than likely to keep his strength up to escape.
Back to ignoring him, I continue to work the lock, looking for the pressure point to be able to twist and open it.
His hand clasps my chin, and I flinch backward. “Hey.”
His fingers still grip my face. My defense starts to build, heat starts rising from inside my body as his flesh fuels that energy.
He’s going to try to hurt me again.
“Why are you helping me?” he repeats, softer this time. “Traitors never end up safe in the end, Blood. They’ll kill you.”
I perk a brow. If he’s speaking about my sisters, they can get upset, but there is no way he’s getting off this island alive. I have soldiers everywhere, courtesy of my father and sisters, and my sea friends, AKA sharks, surround the island as we speak.
He won’t make it one league before he becomes shark bait.
He releases me, taking a step back as his height looms over me. “You better think long and hard about this.”
I have—thought about it for a whole five minutes, made sure the ocean was secure, and that he had a room for himself with a bed.
One step and I’m inches away from him again, taking his wrist and starting all over with the lock. He remains silent for the first time in my presence, which I’m betting is a rare occurrence.
The clads of one of his chains fall, thudding in a heap to the tiles.
This is my last chance to turn away, my conscience states. However, I’m left with no choice but the obvious.
He won’t speak like this.
He won’t address the issue of how he got through the veil if he’s locked up like a prisoner. My people, we don’t let intruders walk or swim freely, you’re tortured until you speak. You starve unless you open your mouth. You become pieces of the sea afterward.
Maybe he’ll see that we’ve evolved over the centuries to be less murderous and more peaceful. I can’t say that we don’t still sing men off boats to their deaths and drown them in the ocean because Sirens still do that. We need to keep fear instilled in humans because they are getting too courageous in their ways.
Hence the man standing in front of me.
“Blood,” he mutters. “The moment this last chain falls, I’m running out of here.”
I continue at the lock.
“You heard what I said, right?”
I look up at him from under my lashes to confirm I have and back down to the clamp around his wrist.
“You’re a stubborn thing,” he comments. “Something we have in common, I guess.”
We have nothing in common.
He’s a brute, I’m a killer when need be.
He’s a human, I’m a creature of the sea.
He’s cocky, I like to think I’m logical—most of the time. This one doesn’t seem like it could fully work out in my favor.
I hear the lock click, the steel opening and dropping to the ground. I expect him to do what he said he’s going to do—run.
But like a stone wall, he stands there.
We both know how this is going to work, he’s going to try and escape, swim off the island, possibly get himself killed, but it won’t answer the questions I have floating in my head.
He might come back with more men next time if he makes it to his ship. It’s possible they can get past the veil just like he did, which is another inquiry. That might be the most important question of all. Getting through our defenses and arriving here.
The choice is his if he wants to live or die.
I glance up at him, his rugged face studying me. Probably wondering why, after everything he did to me, would I let him go.
Again, he doesn’t know me. It’s how I keep humans and creatures on their toes.
Turning on my heels, I let him decide his fate and the path he wants to choose. My sisters and I will find out how he arrived here.
Even if I have to go back to our old ways.
She’s delusional. Utterly and crazily insane. The little vixen just unchained me and, pretty much through facial expressions, said she didn’t care.
I don’t know how long I’ve been here, I’ve lost count of how many moons and suns have cast and fallen altogether, but I do know it’s been over a few of them. The little hellcat must not understand that, to get information, you need to make your prisoner weak—mentally and physically.
I wasn’t quite there yet.
Achy, yes, but about to have a mental breakdown—not even close.
She glides out of the room, and I cautiously follow, waiting for one of her brutes to attack me the moment I leave.
Instead, they’re standing outside the door, looking straight ahead as though this didn’t just happen.
The teal mesh of fabric that she’s wearing sweeps over the continuing white tiled floors as it opens up into a large foyer with a large double-wide staircase of gold and the recurring white. The ceiling is all glass in here too, letting the sun beam down and light the room in all its cleanliness.
I’ve never seen a place so pristine. So majestic and beautifully built. Double doors appear to my left, alluding to the outside, where it continues to be bright.
“Blood,” I call, regretting the neediness in my voice. We both know I’m not getting out of here alive or at all.
I can’t swim back home. There are sharks in these waters, and I’m going to guess there isn’t going to be a boat ready for me to leave. So that still leaves me at a standstill.
Davina turns around, the sunlight protruding off her angelic face and high cheekbones, green eyes locking onto me.
“What do you expect me to do?” I ask.
She shrugs.
Shrugs.
And turns on her heels to continue out of the room. I march in her direction, grasping her arm and spinning her around. Immediately, I’m sliding across the floor on my ass because the little hellraiser is strong as fuck and apparently doesn’t like to be touched.
“Do you have a boat ready for me?” The
two men outside my previous room stand on either side of me, but I keep my attention on her.
She shakes her head then looks to both the men on my left and right. Grubby hands grip underneath my armpits and lift me to my feet, but they don’t let go. I thrash to get out of their hold, but I get nowhere.
This feeling of helplessness, it only propels my anger for being here. Why my father sent me on a suicide mission over a wrist cuff that allegedly was one of our ancestors’ I may never know.
“Are you going to kill me now?” I seethe.
She sends me an exasperated look over her shoulder and continues walking as the guards make me follow.
I’ve seen castles, taken over a few in my time, but nothing compared to this.
While most of the places I’ve been were supported by wooden beams with dark paints and wallpapers, this palace is in different shades of blues. Every wall has a window to let in the light, even the ceilings. There are no gaudy pictures of gods and goddesses, but coral reefs make up some of the wall structure, and shells of all shapes and sizes hang from them.
The place is cheery and bright, mirroring the sea with all its design and hues of color.
After two turns and a set of stairs, Davina stops at a room and twists the door knob, stepping aside to let me walk inside to a bedroom of royal blue and gold. The bed is large with white sheets and pillows, a large desk sits on one side of the wall, while a large hutch resides on the other.
The room is magnificent, but it seems to be another prison.
I turn to Davina, who still stands in the doorway, her two men behind her.
“Another prison?”
She shakes her head.
“Then what?”
“You’re a visitor in Her Majesty’s house, Dagen the Blood Axe,” one of her men state. “Make yourself at home.”
My gaze falls back on the young siren in front of me. “This won’t be my home, Blood.”
She hits me with a glare. I don’t know what she was expecting—to adopt me? I might act like an animal at times, but I’m not looking to be anyone’s pet.
“Dinner is at six,” the other man instructs.
“I won’t be hungry,” I allude.
“Then she’ll drag you there.”
I perk a brow. “Really?” She smirks, and I cross my arms over my chest. “I’d love to see that.”
She sizes me up while I do the same, and damn, there’s a lot to admire about the little temptress who hasn’t tried a quarter of the things her older sister did.
Which was a lot.
Just the idea of fucking has been on my mind since it happened. My cock has been wanting to sink deep inside a woman for days, my imagination running wild with scenarios and positions.
None of them including Edda.
She isn't my wife, I'm not ready to build a family. I'm meant to save our people, it's what I'm good at. But seeing these woman, barely clothed, the most beautiful of the opposite sex I have ever seen, my fantasies just don’t end with a fully clothed Edda.
Instead with green eyes and red hair. Her hand wrapped around my cock and lips pressed around the tip. My fingers through the strands of her hair and—
My new bedroom door slams shut, leaving me alone once more.
Giving the room another look over, it’s better than sleeping in the middle of the hard tiled floor. Next dilemma is waiting on the little broad to see if she thinks she’s going to drag me out of this room to eat dinner with her.
The little Siren isn’t going to get what she wants.
She drug me to the elongated dining room table with a knife to my ribs. I guess she didn’t specify how she was going to get me into this room. I was hoping for her little hands to try and wrap about my wrists again while she attempted to pull me from my new place of residence, but my dreams have been more vibrant and outrageous lately.
Seated at one side of the table, Davina sits across from me while her enticing sister, Nesrine, sits to my right.
“Now this will be fun,” she mutters, her hand gliding across the back of my chair as she plops down beside me.
The others file into the room slowly, while I ignore her, each taking a seat and passing stares mixed with glances of blended emotions, murder, and curiosity. Davina remains unaffected while Atarah glares at her from the head of the table.
Fucking wonderful.
Pinned between the woman who kissed the living fuck out of me and the older one who wants my head on a spike, this is going to prove to be the most interesting dinner I’ve ever had.
“I heard you have your own room now,” Nesrine coos on my right. I don’t answer because I’m done playing her little mind games.
“Well,” states the tangerine-colored sister that I haven’t met. “We hope you enjoy your...stay.”
My brows furrow because she’s just as insane as the little blood temptress who likes knives and shoving people across rooms.
Nesrine leans closer to me. “If you’re...lonely at night, Viking, I don’t mind—”
“I mind,” I snap. I can feel her smile—literally, her presence exceeds everyone else in the room except the hellion sitting across from me.
“Of course you do,” she replies in a low whisper. “You already have your eyes set on the little one who can heave you across the room, make you bleed, and haul you against your will.”
I turn my attention to her. Black hair braided and tied on top of her head, a pink flower that I’ve never seen before embeds itself in her locks.
“The only sight I have,” I gripe, “Is getting the hell out of here.”
She winks. “Absolutely.”
“Do your people eat fish?” I glance around the table, landing on the Siren with purple hair and matching eyes. Sitting next to Davina, her eyes glimmer in curiosity as she blatantly stares at me like I’m a foreign object to her.
I guess I am.
“Yes,” I reply.
“Did you know that your population is dwindling one percent every year?”
“What?”
“Your people,” she repeats. “You’re becoming a rare species like us.”
My brows narrow. “Where did you—we’re not dwindling.”
“I’ve never seen anyone like you before,” the orange-haired woman states. “Do you all have broad shoulders and hair on your face?”
“No.”
“Do you eat hor—orce—” The purple siren looks at Davina. “What are they called again?”
Davina doesn’t look up from the table, but the purple siren snaps her head back to me.
“Horses,” she states, snapping her fingers.
I open my mouth, but Nesrine starts laughing and leans into me. “You’ll have to excuse our sisters.” She points at the woman with orange hair. “That’s Kali.” Then the purple one. “And Rohana.”
“That’s rude, we didn’t introduce ourselves,” Rohana conveys, covering her mouth. “But do you really eat horses?”
“No, we don’t—”
“Enough,” Atarah orders. “Remember your manners at the table, ladies.” Rohana rolls her eyes, and Kali shifts in her chair.
“Davina,” Atarah quips, which prompts her to finally look up. “Make sure next time...you mention that you’ll have guests.”
Blood’s eyes turn into slits.
“I just said next time.”
Alright, so they can hear or communicate amongst each other through some sort of mind magic. And I want to know the reason.
“Why doesn’t she speak?” I ask, settling back on Davina. I feel seven pairs of eyes do the same to me.
“She doesn’t like strangers,” Rohana informs.
I quirk a brow. “Really? So, she can?”
“No,” Isolde retorts, deepening her coral-hued brows.
“Why?”
Nesrine bumps me with her elbow. “Stop asking questions, Viking, when you know you won’t get the answer.”
True, but still not going to stop me.
“I don’t believe sh
e’s scared for a moment.” Davina’s forehead creases. “So there’s something you all are hiding.”
“Which would be?” Atarah drones.
“It’s linked to how you all are on this island,” I state.
“A real spy,” Nesrine remarks. “Doesn’t take a head full of brains to know that.”
“You’d know if your people were from here,” Isolde alleges, leaning her elbows onto the table. “It’s not a secret.”
I shrug. “Then tell me.”
“Oh, I’m sorry—” Isolde smiles. “—that’s if you were family.”
I gnash my teeth. Every single one of these females are a pain in my balls.
Now I’m about to eat dinner with seven little vagrants who kill men at sea just because they can. My father might think he is ready to storm the island, but I’m hoping he thinks twice. Because I have a feeling these women are suited up and waiting for my men to show up for me.
And they’re not scared at all.
“Why do I always find you alone?” a male voice asks, amusement laced in each word, and it only means one person—Tobias.
Standing from my hunched position, I turn from my small tide pool of starfish to face him.
“I brought you something,” he offers before I can speak a word, digging into the pockets of his brown pants, striding toward me.
A foot away, he stops, opening his palm and revealing a white rock. When he shifts his hand from side to side, it illuminates shades of orange and green, fading and reappearing again with each angle.
“It’s called a fire opal,” he conveys. “It reminded me of you.”
Extending his arm, he waits for me to do the same so he can drop it in my hand. I do, letting him place the stone in my palm, brushing the smooth rock with my fingertips before throwing my arms around his neck in a hug.
He chuckles, wrapping his arms around me in return, and nestles his face into the crook of my neck. “Did you miss me?”
“Hardly,” I jeer, giving him a squeeze before releasing him. Looking back down at the rock, I tilt it in different angles again, playing with the colors. “It’s magic.”
“I guess so,” Tobias replies. “I found it in Port Royal.”
He doesn’t go on, which means he didn’t find Lorne. I can see the disappointment that marks his face. The sadness in his dark brown eyes that he tries to hide from me. That’s the good part about knowing someone for so long, they can’t hide from you.
