“Layla? Did you hear what I just said?”
“What?” She startled, blinking and shaking off her trance. It was harder to focus with the ocean moving all around them, and surging so strongly in Reginald’s magics. With a kind yet amused smile, he chuckled, his eyes a very bright gold and grey now.
“You’re staring at me, my Partner.”
“You’re nice to look at.”
“I know, but we’re supposed to be having a conversation about my brother.”
“Sorry, I got distracted.” Layla grumped, through she smiled. “It’s just your magic out here on the sea – it’s pouring through the Bind and I’m having trouble focusing, that’s all.”
“That’s not all.” Reginald spoke with an edge of warning in his tone now as he continued stroking her. “The magic of all Sirens gets stronger on the open ocean, and the island we’re going to is so small it’s nearly the same. If we’re to face Fury soon, I’d like you to have a little caution and perhaps a few magical walls up before we get there. Concentrate, my Partner. Burn my oceans back with your righteous fire and then I’ll tell you more.”
With a blink, Layla realized Reginald was testing her. But she also knew what to do now to press his mesmer abilities back. Pushing up to sitting, Layla moved back far enough that Reginald could no longer touch her. As he watched her, holding deep eye contact, Layla closed her eyes so she could no longer be rolled by his gaze. Taking a deep breath, she cranked the rage inside her body higher, hotter, summoning her fire-bright drakaina up from the rocking tides it had sunk into. With a rush, her magic burned up, pouring out of her in an erotic wave. Though it still wanted to play with Reginald, it had fire in it now, and Layla felt her magic blister his oceans back, clearing her mind and body. Once she had a good burn going, she opened her eyes, making eye contact once more.
It was clear now, and she could no longer hear the ocean in her mind or feel it inside her body.
“Well done. You have a lot more control over the Bind since you faced King Markus in Prague.” Reginald smiled with subtle pride, smoothing his hand over hers upon the bed. It was just his honest touch now rather than the deep pull of the tides and Layla smiled cheekily at him, proud of her new mastery over his powers.
“I know.” She spoke, reaching out and taking up her whiskey. “I think holding so many Crystal Dragon spirits inside me was such a challenge, it matured my magics quite a lot.”
“It did.” Reginald agreed, lifting a knowing eyebrow. “You have far more control over your Dragon than ever before. And you’ll need it, to face my brother Fury soon.”
“So tell me about him.” Layla continued, watching Reginald. “Why are you so concerned about going to see him, and why does he live so far away from the rest of the clan, by himself? Is he that crazy?”
“Fury is… passionate.” Reginald spoke, swirling his whiskey, then sipping as his gaze went long. “Every Dragon type has their predominant emotions and proclivities, Layla. Desert Dragons are loving and tempestuous, which turns easily to rage. Crystal Dragons love stability and will go to great lengths to acquire it. Phoenix love artistry in all things, whether it be peace or war. Storm Dragons are as varied in their temperaments as the skies, from smooth and sunny to deeply stormy. Blood Dragons love to feel heat rise in their blood for the fuck or the fight. You’ve not interacted with Ice Dragons, but they enjoy clarity and calculation of the mind above all things. But Sirens… we are the most passionate of the lot. Our passions run so deep and strong, they can shipwreck others. And even pull us down to the deeps sometimes. And when a Siren goes fully into those wild oceans… it’s not necessarily a good thing.”
“Like the few times you’ve let yourself go.” Layla understood, recalling Reginald’s memories of how he drowned an entire Blood Dragon village when his first beloved was killed. He gave a slow nod, watching her as he let her feel the edge of his memories.
“I was a monster that day,” he spoke, his grey eyes stormy like the springtime ocean. “Fury has done as much and more in his passionate rages. He lives on an island by himself in the North Sea because being around people is too much for him. He cannot control his passions, and his baser instincts are magnified when he has company.”
“But he and Leni work together.” Layla frowned, cocking her head.
“From afar.” Reginald spoke pointedly. “Over the phone, the internet. They work on projects together because my twin brother is brilliant and only Leni has a mind sharp enough to interpret his often wild ramblings that are so far above anyone else’s intellect that they get lost into madness.”
“Wait. Hold up.” Layla blinked. “Twinbrother? Fury’s your twin?”
“Born in the same moment from my mother’s waters.” Reginald spoke with a dire sigh. “I am the golden twin, he is the silver. We echo each other’s powers, but where I have a brightness like the sun in my magic, he has the dark pull of the moon. Golden Sirens are born every few hundred years, though only a handful ever mature to their fullest abilities. Silver Sirens are born only once in a thousand years or more, and all who are born become phenomenally strong. Fury is as mad as he is powerful… and only my mother was ever able to calm him, rest her soul.”
“But when Hunter masqueraded as Tempeste, he had silver hair. Léviathan has silver hair also.” Layla frowned, not understanding.
“Tempeste was of mature age when Hunter killed him, and my father the King is of greatly advanced age also.” Reginald spoke with a gentle sadness. “Sirens will silver in their hair and scales when they are quite mature. But a true Silver Siren – silver from birth – is different, Layla. You’ll see the difference when you meet Fury.”
“Okay.” Layla leaned back on the bed, processing. “So Fury’s more powerful than you?”
“Yes, but I have better control, and have gained much in power since my first shift, and you and I becoming Bound.” Reginald answered honestly. “But Fury and I have always been like the yin and yang to each other. I have less power with far higher control and precision. He has far more power with very little control at all.”
“Was he always like that?”
“Yes and no.” Reginald frowned. “He was much better when we were younglings, though my mother named him Fury for a reason. It got worse when I was banished after the Blood Dragon incident; I think my leaving Deep Harbor destabilized him. But when our mother died… he was with her alone for a time at her deathbed. Afterwards, he went so badly insane that father had no choice but to sequester him someplace he’d do less harm. He only ever caused the deaths of Sirens, so the Intercessoria weren’t involved. But Deep Harbor was a bloody place for two weeks after mother’s death – before Fury could be captured and sent north.”
“Shit.” Layla blinked, having known none of this. “Is he still… murderous?”
“No.” Reginald chuckled, sad but amused. “And he wasn’t then, either. His power was simply so great and so unhinged that it caused vast accidents. My twin is not a vengeful person. He is magnetic, wild, and willful, but not vengeful. Again, we are opposites in that. I am far less wild, but I have the vengeance between our duo. He mourns all the people he’s killed. I do not mourn the lives I have taken, though a part of me is damaged by the way it was done.”
Layla was about to ask another question, when a low foghorn-style alarm suddenly rang through the yacht. Perking, Reginald downed his whiskey and set it aside on the tray. Sliding to the edge of the bed, he stood in a flowing movement, and Layla was suddenly rolled by his beauty again as she watched that lean, elegant body. Pulling up cobalt silk underwear with his trousers, he did up the fly in a smooth motion, then bent to retrieve his shirt from the floor. Pulling it on, he said, “I have to attend the sea now; we’re approaching the White Deeps. Icebergs have been detected by our monitoring systems and I need to float them out of our way from here on.”
“May I come watch?” Layla spoke, sliding to the edge of the bed.
