As the reality sank in—that Morgana and I would soon be diving deep beneath the waves and swimming to the Mediterranean—a restless urge to see Parker had begun to gnaw at me.
I returned my gaze to the house in the distance.
Maybe I didn’t have to leave with Morgana; perhaps I could slip inside, use my powers on Parker, and curl up against his muscled chest like I used to.
We could be happy.
If I stayed with him, I would never have to take that weird, scaly, birdlike form again. I couldn’t deny how much I enjoyed magic-wielding lessons, and the attentions Aranare gave me, but the thought of claiming my beastly form filled me with dread. Like, once I embraced it again, everything would become permanent.
If I used my new powers of allure or ecstasy inducement on Parker, he would love me and only me, and he would never hurt me again.
We could be happy. I repeated the notion to myself.
The wind picked up as I gazed out over the ocean. The sun hung low on the horizon. Sunset was near. That was when I was meant to meet Morgana and Aranare, when we were supposed to go beneath the waves.
I swallowed but couldn’t bring myself to move. This was all I’d ever wanted—this life with Parker.
I returned my focus to his home. It was smaller than Finn’s further up the cliff, but equally luxurious. My walk-in closet, my patent leather Christian Louboutin boots—the things Parker bought for me were things I could never afford on my own, and I didn’t want to give them up.
I brushed the space beneath my eye where he had punched me. The bruise had faded, but the gesture brought an unwanted thought curling into my mind.He tried to kill you.
Perhaps he hadn’t meant to. It had all happened so quickly on the boat. And if I used my powers, it would never happen again. He would love me the way he had when we first met.
I had clung to that feeling. It was what kept me waiting through all his nights away, what pulled me back even after he bruised me. How he had treated me when we first met—like I was the only girl in the world, like he needed me more than air. The feeling had quickly faded, yet I had always hoped we could find our way back to it.
And now, we could, if I used my powers.
I made my way down the drive, which wound through therich grass on the cliff top to the front entrance. Parker’s electric Porsche Taycan was in the driveway, and my chest hollowed out at the sight of it. He was home.
The dark wooden door I’d come to know so well was ajar.Strange.
Stepping inside, my shoulders hunched as a crash rang out. The noise was coming from the dining room. I rushed down the familiar stone walkway, the floor-to-ceiling windows wrapping me in ocean views and afternoon light as I reached the expansive living and dining area.
A cold sweat prickled at the back of my neck, and I froze in the doorway.
Aranare.
He was shirtless, back muscles flexing as he prowled back and forth, circling Parker, who was sprawled on the shattered dining table.
“What are you doing?” I cried, lifting my hands to my mouth in horror.
Aranare didn’t notice me. His Siren form was barely contained beneath his bronzed skin; scales were beginning to spread across his forearms and gleam under the kitchen’s downlights.
My lips parted, but no more words came out as he continued pacing.
Parker pulled himself from the wreckage, fists clenched, his sleek hair disheveled and blue eyes wide with fear. “Get out of my house, you fucking freak,” he spat, but his voice was trembling.
Aranare lunged forward, ramming into him. Back and forth they went, a tangle of grunts and limbs, until they both crashed into the marble kitchen island. A bar stool clattered to the ground.
I clamped my hands over my mouth again, unable to move, the scene unfolding before me as if at lightning speed. Parker shoved Aranare from him and scrambled to his feet, swinging wildly. His knuckles connected with Aranare’s cheek, but the Siren barely flinched. He bent Parker’s arm behind his back, pinning him against the counter.
Terror clawed its way into my core as a wine glass exploded beside my feet.
No! They are going to kill each other.
Muscles taut, scales rippling, Aranare bared his teeth—sharp now, notquite human—as the leathery wings ripped from his back. This wasn’t the man who’d trained with me on the cliffs, laughing in the wind. This was something else. Something beautiful but deadly.
Parker writhed, shouting, but Aranare pressed harder.
