by Hazel Grace
“Do not defy me,” the king berates. “He will not—” He halts, which makes me believe she spoke again. Meanwhile, I’m still reeling over how I may have heard her speak to me and how odd it is that it wasn’t said out loud.
“The real reason,” the king continues bringing his attention to me. “If you don’t tell my daughter by the end of the week, I’ll be back to finish the job, boy.”
I open my mouth to tell him that everything I said is all he’s going to get out of me, but he turns on his heels and leaves the room.
Davina stays put, watching him stride out, her shoulders sagging in defeat because she knows there isn’t anything my adamant ass is going to expose.
“You spoke to me,” I blurt, needing to state the obvious.
Slowly, she brings her eyes to me. “Don’t get used to it.”
I smile, I can’t help it. I knew she’d be a fucking smart ass with a mouth that fit her fire red hair.
“Too late,” I reply. “Already did.” She scoffs, peering back at the door that is wide open but leaves behind her father’s words. “Why did you save me?”
She shakes her head, inhaling and exhaling a loud breath. “I should’ve let him kill you, but I still have questions.”
“I’m not sure what more I can—” She snaps her head to me.
“Your line of lies isn’t convincing, Viking. You’re here for another reason.”
I perk a brow. “And what reason would that be?”
Davina positions herself so that she’s facing me straight on. Chests aligned, eyes perfectly centered on me, a small lift appearing at the corner of her lips.
“I’m not so naive, as my father so perfectly pointed out.”
“I don’t doubt it,” I voice. “But I don’t know about this veil that keeps being mentioned. I saw the island clear as day.”
“Which only means one thing.”
“Which is?”
“You’re a Siren.”
I chuckle. “I can definitely tell you that I’m not. You do not want to hear me sing.”
“Then you’re something else. A merman, maybe?”
I shake my head. “Not one of those either.”
“Well, you’re not just a Viking.”
“I promise you, Blood, that I am. Through and through and full-blooded. Whomever put up this veil messed something up.”
She wrinkles her nose. “That’s impossible.”
“And why is that?”
“Because,” she deadpans.
“I have nothing else for you,” I tell her with a weak shrug. “All I want to do is go home.”
She perks a brow. “And bring the rest of your army here?”
“This island is too small to do anything with—” I give her a dismissive wave of my hand. “—and I can’t farm on it.”
“Farming is growing food, correct?” I nod. “Doesn’t sound like a Viking to me.”
“And what does sound like one?” The corners of my eyes crinkle. “Since you know my people so well.”
“I’ve read about your people,” she scowls. “You kill people for land. You extend your territory with blood and killing.”
“That’s the Highlanders,” I retort. “And we only kill if—”
“So you don’t march on others’ land?”
“We do but—” She crosses her arms along her chest, that determination I get to experience firsthand.
“Is it your land?”
“No, but—”
“That’s enough for me to know. Which is exactly what you’re doing here.”
“I don’t want your land, Blood.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“That’s what you like though, isn’t it?” My eyes tighten on her. The glittery bodice of purple, the way it dips and gathers up her breasts so that I can see the mounds that tease to be touched. “You want to kill me so bad, but you’re holding back, why?”
“You don’t know a thing about me,” she seethes.
“Nor do you know me.”
“I know that you’re here without my permission.”
“And that’s it.”
“We’ll see,” she chants. “Think about the week I bought you and how much you want to tell me.”
“And if I make it up?”
“I have ways of making good on your truths, Viking.” She takes a step toward the door and peers over her shoulder. “Dinner is at sunset. I’ll make sure you’re not sitting next to my father.”
“The Mistress is coming up on our starboard, Cap’n,” Asher announces over the chatter and rustle of my crew.
Glancing over to the right, I see the massive ship glide its way toward us. It’s intimidating if you didn’t know who it was. The massive masts and sails colored in red to make the ship look sinister and blood-thirsty. Its cannons stationed along the sides, ready to fight at any moment—which always sets me on edge.
I don’t trust my Uncle Declan.
As the years have gone by, he’s become more bizarre and leaning toward the bow of mad. His hunger, almost obsession, over hunting Sirens is all he thinks and speaks about. When I was a child, it was the pursuit of treasure and gold. The prospect of chasing down the riches and glory that came with it. But if my uncle spent more time hunting treasure than he did Sirens, he’d own half the world by now.
Instead, he’s adamant about hunting down the species that I’m now trying to protect, mainly Davina, and the betrayal I have to keep ensuing to make sure she’s safe.
“Bring the girl out,” I tell Asher, stepping down from the Captain’s deck.
My men stop working, shifting nervously and keeping their heads down the moment they see the Executioner board our side. My uncle elicits a fear that lingers inside them, and I let him keep it. It keeps them doing what I need them to do—which is to keep their mouths shut.
“You all know the drill,” I grumble as I walk in front of my men, who have positioned themselves in a straight line. “Keep quiet, your heads down. You speak to no one but me.”
I get words of agreement and nods as I wait for my uncle to finish docking down next to my ship, Deliah. The moment the ship is safely secured, my uncle’s voice booms over the crashing waves.
“Tobias,” he greets in a slur, hopping over the banister of my vessel and landing unsteadily onto his feet.
He almost falls, but I don’t make an attempt to catch him. He’s already made my life complicated enough. Especially when I wanted to break out from underneath him and go off on my own, making a point to tell me that I wouldn’t be anything. That I’d never amount to the name I was given because I was too stupid to do any better than what he taught me.
Now I run my own ship, a faithful crew, and have kept the biggest fucking secret known to man away from the man who calls himself the Tyrant of the Water.
“I see she’s still floating,” he quips, looking around the deck.
“It would seem so,” I deadpan. He slaps my shoulder with his chunky hand and rounds me, inspecting for whatever dumb shit he thinks he’s going to find.
“I heard you were south,” he alludes, more like snoops because I know he has other ships reporting back to him on my whereabouts. We can add paranoid to the list of characteristics that make up my uncle.
“I was.”
“Did you find anything?” The moment he asks, the doors to my corridor open and a loud squeal permeates the air.
My men cover their ears along with my uncle, and imitating them, I do too—even though I don’t have to. The voice of a Siren has never bothered me, never made me feel a certain way, or compel me to jump off my ship to my death.
It’s how I was able to save Davina and Rohanna that fateful night when Kali sang and screamed at the other ships to steer them away.
Another high-pitched scream, and I don’t have to look over to know what it is—I caught it. I hunted it down because it would show my uncle what I wanted him to see. And that was me following in his footsteps while leaving me the fuck alone for small pe
riods of time.
“Holy—” My uncle doesn’t finish his words because he’s already striding toward the creature that now holds all of his attention.
A Siren.
She’s probably one of the most beautiful ones that I’ve caught. Her coral-colored hair matches her tail and scales. Her flawless skin glistens in the sunlight countered by sharp nails and a nasty cut to her brow from thrashing around the tub I had her in.
“Where did you find this one?” my uncle asks, stunned and in awe like he’s never seen one before in his life.
Too close to where Davina is.
“Southwest,” I respond instead. In the opposite direction of Merindah.
“How?”
I glance in his direction, watching him stand over the Siren that is straining to get out of her ties. It makes me avert my attention because I feel the guilt that starts to stab at my conscience every time this shit happens.
“Saw her on some rocks along the shore of Cabitha,” I profess. “We lured her in by letting her think she was going to get us to crash into the rocks and dropped the lines when she got too close.”
My uncle spins on his heels to face me. “How were you not affected by her song?”
I smirk. “Can’t tell you all my secrets now, can I?”
He frowns, his peppered gray brows descend down his haggard face. The man hasn’t seen sleep in years, too focused and hell-bent on his next capture and kill mission.
The moment he doesn’t see me budge, he cracks a grin.
“Alright, lad,” he claims with a chuckle. “Fair enough. Are you going to sell her?”
“She’s yours.” Bile begins to rise from my stomach to my throat as I shove the words from my lips.
His brows furrow. “Mine?”
“It was your birthday last week, wasn’t it?” I clasp my hands behind my back to keep them from plowing into his skull. He doesn’t deserve shit from me, but this is a sacrifice that has to be made to keep him away from Davina.
And I hate him with my entire fucking being.
His blue eyes widen like a little child’s. “You remembered.” He marches toward me and clasps me into his bulky arms. “She’s a beaut and a fine piece for my collection.”
“Collection?”
He releases me. “I’ve begun collecting them.”
I frown. “I don’t understand.”
“We skin ‘em, like fish.” He makes a hand movement of slicing something with a filet knife. “I have them hanging in my corridors as decoration, and soon I’ll have enough to decorate my ship with.”
You stupid son of a bitch.
I force back my cringe, my body weakening at the thought of Davina or one of her sisters being peeled and abraded then thrown up like an ornament.
“Would you like to come take a—”
“I’m on my way to Saint Bernards to look for Lorne,” I profess quickly. “He’s been sighted on—”
“You’re still looking for him?” His brows snap together.
“I am.”
His face softens. “Boy, he’s grown up now. How would you even know it's him?”
“I’ll know.”
And slightly in denial.
“You’ve been chasing him around for years,” my uncle professes, waving his hand around in the air. “How do you know he’s even still ali—”
“Call it a personal pursuit,” I recite. “Besides I’m on my way over there anyway.”
My uncle stares at me a second longer then bows his head. “Alright. Will you be in Port Royal for the Founder’s celebration?”
“I didn’t plan on it but—”
“Come,” he orders. “You look like you’ve been on the sea for too long and you need a woman. You’re looking a little pale.”
I set my jaw and give him a brief nod. I need more than that.
Ordering his men to take my captive to his ship, my uncle hollers at my crew to stay true to their captain, like they need the reminder.
Setting his attention back on me, he slaps my shoulder again. “You take care of yourself out there,” he says. “I’ll see you in a few weeks.”
“See you then.”
With one last smile that exhibits a gold tooth, he leaves my ship. The tension in the air going off with him.
I do have to go to Saint Bernards to find Lorne. Then, I need to go back to Davina and tell her to keep her sisters within her realm. The moment any of them set off, I can’t protect them from my own kind, and I swore to keep them protected. The price of keeping her safe and the role I have to play to keep my uncle away from her home is large.
And it’s the only fucking way I know how. Because if I can get past the veil as well as the Viking, who knows who else can.
Dinner would’ve been delicious if I could focus on it. If my father wasn’t glaring at Dagen then diverting it to me as if I was some smitten girl around a handsome, dangerous man that I planned on keeping forever at my side.
I didn’t plan on keeping him.
I decided on using and disposing of him in two different scenarios, depending on how all this went. I’d either give him to my sisters or let him go free. The latter was going to subject me to a lot of yelling, chastising, and bickering, but I wasn’t as blood starved as my siblings. Nor did I like the cleanup afterward.
But with my father here, things were going to escalate, and Dagen’s presence means he might stay longer.
Don’t get me wrong, I love when he’s here. He reminds me of home, the only living parent I have left, and he loves me dearly, even though his eyes speak of wanting to beat the stupid out of me right now. It is foolish, letting a giant man roam the island to do hell knows what, but I have to try. I have to try to see if he’ll speak to me. If he’s here for a heinous reason or for just what he had said—to learn the land for his people to take. He never had to say that, it sounded bad enough, but he did.
And I can’t help but want to believe him on that part.
Which poses more questions on what would he do if I did let him go. Would my sisters be safe here? When I woke up one morning, would there be ships surrounding the island to overtake it?
Each scenario, the same fear resided in each—my sisters, father, my people, and I would be at the mercy of humans.
Dagen excused himself early, and I followed shortly after but not after him, quite the opposite. I came to the small little place on the island that is completely mine.
My secluded little cove.
Where I keep and collect all my treasures along with Mother’s diaries and the item that she left behind.
Her golden cuffs.
Well, one of them anyway. The second hasn’t been found, which worries my father and sisters more than anything because it holds the power of the sea, the queen’s side of the kingdom. With it in the wrong hands, it would shift the elements. It would mean my father would have to defend his kingdom from the one who holds the missing cuff in order to protect what was ours. And he wasn’t as young as he used to be.
Stepping into the darkened cove made of hollowed rock, I follow the light that sparks from my torch. Nothing but silence and my footsteps greet me as I walk deeper into the cool space. The place where everything that means anything is, for the most part.
The moment I make another turn inside, the moon lights up the room from a small hole in the ceiling overhead. I light the stationed torches that I already have here, watching my golden trinkets glimmer. The mountains of books that haven’t made it to my bookshelf in the castle stacked up all over along with the human items that Tobias brings back for me are all put in a specific place.
No one comes here but me.
No one is allowed or even knows about it. It’s the only spot in the world that completely and utterly belongs to me.
“Nice place you have.” I jolt, my hand immediately going for the first thing I can reach as I spin around to throw the item at my intruder.
Dagen blocks the trinket and continues to stand there like he has any right to b
e in my space right now.
“What are you doing here?” I snap. “Get out.”
He ignores me, admiring everything cluttered and organized throughout the space. He makes it feel smaller with his considerable frame as he scrutinizes the area.
“That means get out.”
“I will,” he alludes slowly. “I just wanted to see where you disappeared to.”
“It doesn’t matter where I go. This is my home.”
“Unfortunately, I know that too.” He takes another step forward. “This is all...beautiful.”
“I don’t want you here,” I chide. He looks at me then, soft and curious, almost normal.
But him and I are far from common.
He’s a warrior of the land while I’m a killer of the sea. Mind you, I don’t go off hunting like my sisters anymore because I can’t, but once in a while, I dream about it.
It’s in my blood, my nature. Killing those who hunt us down for sport runs deep within who I am. The stories and myths made us the bad species, luring men to their deaths by getting them close to the rocks or using our voices to tip sailors overboard. Decade-old Sirens used that trick for sport and entertainment, but now we have more accomplished and well-deserved prey—Hunters.
While we’ve always been a condemned species, Father said that we became who we are when Persephone was abducted by Hades. She seems to be doing just fine since she married him and rules the underworld.
Taysa’s story is that we came about by mermaids, two sisters challenging each other for a crown, and one turned into an evil monster to lure all her lovers to their deaths. Folklore, fairy tales, myths, and legends, I just think we were meant to be like everyone else.
We hunt.
We want to conquer.
We crave our own power.
“How long have you collected all of these things?” he asks, looking toward the ceiling, where I have chiseled the stone wall to make shelves. “My sister would’ve loved this.”
“You have a sister?”
“And a brother.”
“You must miss them,” I reply softly, taking advantage of his opening up to me.
