Siren: A Dark Retelling

by Hazel Grace

  Something I wish he didn’t have for me right now.

  “You have to speak,” I tell him only. “Or they will kill you all.”

  “I know,” he whispers.

  “So you’ll die for them?” I snap.

  “What do I get if I say what you want to hear?”

  My brows furrow. “What?”

  “What do I get?” he repeats. “Do I get a piece of your heart? Your soul? Because just the memories won’t be enough for me.”

  “You’re acting crazy again,” I retort, turning away from him.

  “Blood,” he says sharply. “How far will you go to save my life?”

  “Not right now.”

  “Do not lay a hand on him,” Edda barks. “He is Dagen the Blood Axe and you wouldn’t dare do what you’re thinking about doing if he wasn’t tied.”

  A slow smile breaks my lips. “I already have.” My elbow lands in his gut, the escape of air leaving his mouth makes me cringe.

  “Geezus fuck,” he groans behind me. “I can’t wait to fuck the shit out of you, Blood.”

  His promise warms my entire body, and so does the fact that his little wannabe wife is standing in front of me while he speaks filthy things to me.

  “Answer my question,” I yell for everyone to hear then speak to him again. “Tell me the truth and I’ll give my entire self to you.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “I swear it.”

  “You’ll be mine?”

  “Let’s see how much I like the answer and how much truth it holds.”

  “The cuff holds the key to—”

  “Dagen!” Edda screeches. “Keep silent.”

  “You will all die if I don’t tell them what they want,” he counters. “I’ve already seen enough of my clansmen fall.”

  “They’ve beaten you down, haven’t they?” she presses with slitted eyes in my direction. “She sirened you to her so that you’ll do what she asks.”

  “I haven’t been coaxed by anyone to do anything since I’ve been here,” Dagen retorts. “Or they’d already know everything.”

  “But you wouldn’t do this,” she scolds. “This isn’t who you are. You’re loyal and steadfast. You’re a born leader who—”

  “I know what I am,” he growls. “And I know what I need to do.”

  Her face contorts in a look of disgust. “You’d be labeled a traitor.”

  “By saving my people, Edda?” he challenges. “I have a feeling that what we came for is a lie anyway.”

  “A lie? It was your own father who sent you here.”

  “And his own stupidity that may have cost his son his life.”

  “He would never,” she claims. “You’re his only son.”

  Dagen ignores her and positions his body in front of my sisters. “I’m ready to speak,” he claims. “But I need the floor, apparently Edda developed a mouth on the voyage over here.”

  “You will ruin everything,” she all but snarls. “Your fellow clansmen are more important than these clothless females who have satisfied—” She stops her next words, more than likely embarrassed to speak them.

  “Speak,” Atarah orders Dagen as she strides closer.

  “My people started to believe again in a myth about a decade ago, I was a young lad when I first heard it. A powerful creature that would protect us from the Highlands as they kept attacking our smaller villages and killing everyone who resided in them. Women and children were slaughtered like cattle, and we weren’t able to be everywhere at one time.

  “My father grew extremely restless, I remember him pacing the floorboards in the middle of the night, trying to come up with a plan until one day he had it.”

  “Had it?” Atarah repeats.

  “My father came home from a trip with it. Stating there was a way to keep us guarded and preserved.”

  “What kind of creature?” I ask.

  He meets my eyes. “One that flies and breathes fire. A creature that could be faithful to us and—”

  “Dagen,” Edda warns, taking a step forward.

  “Davina,” Dagen stresses, snatching my attention from her. “The cuff was supposed to bring my people dragons.”

  “You traitor!” she screams, her voice penetrating the air around us.

  “I was told it was stolen from us centuries ago,” he continues. “I don’t know how he knew where it would be or what we would have to do to summon this so-called power, but I didn’t question. He’s my father, and I’m allegiant to him, there was no need for me to doubt him.”

  My brows furrow. “Dragons?”

  He nods. “I know, it was my first reaction too, but we’re out of options. The battles are more bloody and brutal. Almost daily each party loses more men, and it’s as though we’re spawning more only to train them to fight at a young age and send them right off to the battlefield to possibly die. We don’t want to do that anymore.”

  “Why would we believe you now?” Atarah challenges. “You’ve been here for weeks and not uttered a word about these living, fire-breathing things.”

  “I ignite fire,” I tell her. “It’s not impossible. I’ve seen them in books.”

  “But they don’t exist,” Atarah retorts.

  “We’re not supposed to exist,” I carp back over my shoulder. Bringing my attention back to Dagen, I’m about to speak, but he beats me to it.

  “I know I’m blocked from Kali’s powers,” he admits. “And Atarah and Brylee, I don’t know why, but what I do know is that they can confirm it.”

  He nods at his men, who stand perplexed and nervous behind Edda.

  “They won’t spill a word,” Edda counters as she raises her chin. “You are no longer—”

  “Your animosity on the matter,” Brylee interjects, “makes me believe him.” It’s then that Edda rushes her, slamming into Brylee and almost knocking her to the ground.

  Atarah reaches them first, yanking her off her twin while I’m only inches away. Everything happens in slow motion, but it’s my name that thuds in my skull over and over again.

  It’s Tobias.

  He’s never seen this side of me—the rage, passed the point of return where the target in my path doesn’t have a prayer unless it possesses some sort of magic.

  It’ll disgust him, he’ll never be able to look at me the same. Never understand the stress that has been prickling at my sanity for weeks. How I can speak out loud now and humans can come freely onto the island.

  The veil isn’t a cover of safety anymore. My sisters and I are wide open to every single enemy on this Earth, and Edda was no exception.

  My palm encloses around her neck for the second and last time as I let go of every single ounce of stress, anger, and hopelessness.

  Every burst of energy I release through me goes into her. Her screams and pleas at the top of her lungs ring in my ears as my whole body feels engulfed in flames.

  With her hands tied behind her back, she can’t push me off. She can’t try to pry herself from my grasp, but she’s trying to drop her weight so I release her.

  The longer I hold on, the more I can feel the heat between the two of us. Flames reflect in my eyes as I watch the distortion of Edda’s face in pain, the wails that she releases in my face are all muffled now.

  My name is called out over and over to let go, but she touched two of my sisters. Called herself Dagen’s woman when clearly she’s not.

  And she tried to save someone I wasn’t ready to give up yet.

  Edda’s skin starts to peel off her face as my head starts to feel airy and cloudy. A sharp gasp hisses behind me as I think I felt someone try to touch me.

  The once pretty girl who stood before me looks like a black and red mess. And the strength that boiled through me, fleets from my body.

  Edda’s body buckles under my fingertips, and I don’t remember anything else except the blackness that surrounds me and another shrilling scream filling my ears.

  My eyes flutter open to blurs of bodies in my range of view. A w
armth of blankets over and around me, followed by the movement of a large hand on my lower back.

  I blink a few times, letting my perception focus in to find all of my sisters lined up at the bottom of my bed staring at me with amusement, distaste, and irritation.

  Shifting to sit up, my palm lands on a hard chest, and I glance to find Dagen sleeping next to me, his breathing calm and faint through the air.

  “Good morning,” Nesrine greets the moment my eyes fall back to them.

  “How long have I been out?” I ask, rubbing my eyes then my forehead.

  “Few hours,” Brylee replies. I glance out the window to see the moon on full display, illuminating the sky over the trees.

  My focus lands next on Kali, whose shoulder is bandaged in white cloth. “How are you feeling?”

  “Better than the woman you burned alive,” she snorts with a chuckle.

  My eyes widen. I know I hurt her, but it really didn’t register until now. I recall the flames, the smell of burning flesh, the screams—multiple screams.

  “I remember another voice,” I convey. “Another scream, but I don’t think it was that Viking wench.”

  “Taysa,” Rohana voices. “She was coming up from the ocean, it was her you heard.”

  “Is she alright?”

  My sisters all look at each other for a moment until Atarah says, “She’s fine. But there is a problem.” I raise a brow for her to continue as she exhales. “The issue is why did she scream the moment you killed the Viking woman?”

  “So I did some research,” Isolde breaks in, opening a small book she’s holding. “A witch can link herself to people.”

  “Link herself to…” I let my words trail off. “That makes no sense. Why would she tie herself with a Viking? And for what?”

  “The veil is crumbling more and more,” Isolde replies. “The men that came with Edda, they aren’t as sick as the ones we brought back with Dagen. They are coughing, but they lasted overnight. The older men of Dagen’s crew died within hours the last time.”

  The veil is failing because I have my voice back, though it’s hard to use vocal cords that I haven’t used in a long time.

  “You’re right,” I allege. “Because I can speak freely again.” My sisters gape at me, some covering their mouths while the others gasp and chuckle at the thing that was taken away from me for years.

  “It’s so beautiful,” Rohana beams, eyes brimming with tears.

  “And surprisingly still annoying,” Atarah remarks on a broken chuckle as I roll my eyes.

  “As much as we love to hear your voice again,” Brylee states. “It just further proves our point. Taysa put the veil up, she screamed the moment Edda died, and there is still not a fix to it. She has a solution for everything, but the one thing that protects us is diminishing day by day. Hence why the Viking is here, how Tobias can come freely back and forth and neither one of them gets ill, that’s another dilemma.”

  “You think she is linked to them?” I ask, feeling the friction in my throat from speaking out loud.

  Isolde tucks her chin into her chest. “We don’t know yet, but it’s plausible.” I shake my head, feeling Dagen suddenly stir next to me.

  “Davina,” Kali coos. “We have to think of all the possibilities. Every single one of them.”

  “But you’d say all of this in front of him?” I mutter, jerking my head to the man who’s still holding me against his body.

  “We’re still not scared of the burly man,” Nesrine quips. “Regardless, he’s still exactly what he was before, ours.”

  “Where is Taysa now?” I ask.

  Isolde adjusts her glasses. “Sleeping in her room.”

  “We’ll discuss this more later,” Atarah states. She clasps my foot and wiggles it around before Rohana rounds my side of the bed and gives me a hug.

  “Welcome back, Sister,” she whispers in my ear then kisses my temple.

  Together they leave, softly closing the door behind them when a pair of hands wrap around my middle and pulls me back to lay next to him.

  “Deep information,” he grumbles through his sleep, his eyes still closed.

  “You heard everything,” I accuse.

  “Most of it,” he retorts.

  “Then why did you pretend to still be asleep?”

  He tugs my body closer to his. “I’d rather not deal with your older sisters.” He cracks an eye open to look at me and smirks, closing it seconds later. “How are you feeling?”

  “Confused.”

  “About?”

  “You.”

  “I’m not a witch, Blood,” he counters. “If I was, I would’ve already used some powers to escape this island.”

  “But you didn’t get the cuff back.”

  His blue eyes open and zero in on me. “I don’t want the cuff.” He reaches out and clasps his hand around my neck, pulling me closer to his face. “I want you though.”

  His lips are on mine the moment the words leave his mouth, slowly and memorizing. His tongue languidly enters my mouth, a soft groan mingling in between our breaths.

  “You’re going to be the death of me,” he utters between kisses. “And I can’t think of a better way to die.”

  “No one is dying,” I breathe.

  He breaks from me and throws his legs over the edge of the bed. “Speaking of dying, you need water.”

  “I don’t need any—”

  “Where can I get you some food?” he asks, going to a pitcher that sits on a small dresser against the wall. “You need to eat something.”

  “I’m not hungry,” I reply, now sitting on the brink of my bed.

  “Need to eat.”

  “Dagen,” I counter as he walks toward me with a small glass of water. “I’m good.” I take a sip of the warm liquid to appease him and hand it back.

  He places the glass on my bedside table.“Does swimming in the lagoon help you regain your energy?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “We should let you go back there and—”

  “Drinking water helps, I’m good until the morning.”

  “But you need to get your strength back up.”

  “It’s up,” I deadpan.

  “You might feel that way but—” I stand, shoving him back a few steps to show him that I am perfectly able to still defend myself and get him to shut up.

  For a moment.

  Dagen chuckles and shrugs. “Point proven.”

  “I’m fine,” I repeat as he snakes his arm around my waist to pull me closer.

  “I hear you, Blood.”

  “I’m scared,” I mutter, holding onto his forearms. “You might be a key to something so much bigger.”

  “I’ve met that Taysa woman,” he tells me. “And she gave me this eerie sensation.”

  “You might be linked to her somehow.”

  “Never seen her before besides the other day.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He lifts me, and my legs automatically wrap around his hips. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Blood.” His ocean blue eyes state that they won’t, but it doesn’t soothe the rumbling in my gut.

  The warning that there is more to all of this than what we know. And my main fear is that it’ll be too late by the time we do.

  “Your distrust is written all over your face,” Dagen states, staring up at me.

  “It’s not that I don’t want to trust you,” I allude softly. “It’s the lack of answers that gives me pause.”

  Dagen’s hands squeeze my ass. “I have one answer that I’d like to obtain from you.”

  “Which is?”

  “You said you’d give your entire self to me if I told you about the cuff.” He twirls us around and strides toward the door. “How good was my answer?”

  I fight back my smirk. “Good enough.”

  “Good enough?” he repeats with raised brows. My back hits the wood of my bedroom door, where he slides my body down his to land on my feet.

  Spinning my body around, h
e presses my chest into the hard surface, my head tilted to the side to see him standing close behind me.

  “Am I supposed to take that as consent to own you, Blood?” He brushes my long hair away from my neck and leans in to whisper in my ear. “Because normally Vikings don’t ask.”

  I’m buzzing to the sound of his voice, the breath that tickles the sensitive part of my body. He doesn’t stop assaulting my senses when his hand starts to pull the mesh bottom of my outfit to the side, exposing my upper thighs and ass to the cool night air.

  “I keep to my word,” I whisper.

  His face nestles into the crook of my neck as he licks my skin and follows it with a kiss. “Forever?”

  “Why would that matter, Viking?” I hear him work at his pants, making my legs clutch together in anticipation.

  “Because I’m yours forever, Blood.” I begin to turn on my heels, but his palm lands on my spine, his words playing off my soul.

  I’m yours forever.

  They are words I thought I’d never hear come from his lips.

  Never did I think I’d want to bottle them up and keep them forever. But his sentiment and with his body so close to mine, I’m so ready to give myself up to a man who thrusted himself into my world without my permission and buried himself in it.

  His cock grazes my ass cheeks as he says, “Spread your legs for me, beautiful.”

  I do what he asks, my fingers resting on the door. More than willing to submit to him and deplete my pride for another moment of bliss with him pounding all his frustration and lust into me.

  Slowly, he glides into me, bending down to reach my height. Enclosing his arm around my middle again, he hoists me up, keeping my chest flat against the door.

  “Bend your knees back and hook your ankles at my hips.” His fingers graze down to my torso and brush my clit while I do what he orders. “Yes, Blood, just like that.”

  Sinking deeper into me, I let out a moan, palming the door to help keep myself up.

  “I won’t let you fall,” he whispers. “Now tell me how much you’re mine.” Another thrust as my cheek presses into the wood.

  “All yours,” I chant.

  “All mine.” Another heave of his cock inside me, and my next exhale is propelled from my lungs. “Does that feel good?”