My eyes rake over her, noticing how her heart races even quicker before she swallows, and I smirk. “There are plenty of ways, but none will help you leave that bed… and since I’m in a good mood, how about you join me for dinner?”
“Dinner?” she asks. I nod.
“Yeah. If you want to take a shower, feel free to do so. I’ll order us some food.”
I turn, about to leave the room, when I pause. “What’s your name?”
She stares at me with those large eyes before she answers. “S-Siralaine.”
How does a simple word sound so fucking good from those lips?
Dining with the Enemy
Siralaine
Ishake my head, trying to remove the thoughts of the sexy man-beast. Who is he?
My mind wanders to the wave weavers. Are they still searching for me? Why would they try to kill me? That couldn’t have been Father’s orders. I refuse to believe it. No matter how angry he is at me, he wouldn’t do that to me.
We had argued after my sisters accused me of crimes I didn’t commit, and then things got worse when I mentioned my mother.
I look at my skin under the running water of the shower; the faintest hue of iridescent blue is beginning to appear. I’m going to have to shift soon. However, once I do, I will have to remain in sea siren form for an hour. I can’t risk that here, not when I don’t know whose side this man is on; he isn’t human, even I know that much. If he’s in alliance with the sky sirens, then he’ll kill me the moment he realises what I am, and maybe even more so when he realises exactlywhoI am.
And then there’s a risk of him desiring more. Sea sirens not only draw men in with their voices, but our appearances can also render men senseless, and a man can easily become a sexual monster with no self-control.
And with my scales being the darkest in the ocean, the fuchsia pink that becomes the blackest of black, everyone would know I’m none other than the daughter of Morcant, the Sea King. Some think my tail is a unique miracle, but the majority think my mother practised dark magic. That’s why she was brutally raped and killed.
I push away the anger, hatred and bitterness I feel towards those who were never brought to justice; her killers swim free to this very day, and my father allowed that, letting them do what they wanted to her. I vowed to find and destroy them, and I will.
Sighing, I look at my skin. As long as the lights remain dim and he doesn’t look too closely, he shouldn’t notice it. I hope he doesn’t, anyway.
Drying myself off, I put on the shirt, grateful for something proper to wear. The one I had on previously, I found discarded in an alleyway when I crossed the veil onto Earth. I return to the bedroom, limping towards the door.
He’s on the sofa, arms spread out across the back of it, legs parted, head tilted back, revealing his bobbing Adam’s apple, as a brown paper bag sits on the table in front of him. His tan skin is beautiful, with a scar that runs across his face, only adding to his charm. His deep brown hair looks thick and glossy. The itch to comb my fingers through it niggles at me.
I drag my attention away from him and to the brown paper bag.
Oh, it smells amazing! Looking back, I can’t even remember the last time I ate.
His eyes rake over me, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. My core tingles just from his gaze. We sea sirens do lust for sex, too, and right now the idea doesn’t sound so bad. He smirks, as if knowing exactly what kind of effect he has on me.
“I see you’re feeling better,” he remarks as he gets up, saunters over to the refrigerator and takes out two bottles of drinks. He then drops onto the couch, stretching his long, muscular legs out once again. Reaching for the brown bag, he opens it, taking out two pots of hot noodles. “Sit,” he commands, passing me a pair of chopsticks and picking up a pair for himself.
“Thanks,” I say softly. I pry off the steaming lid, making sure not to cut myself in my hurry. I’m ravenous.
“So, where are you from?”
I stiffen at his question before shaking my head. “Nowhere.”
“Everyone’s from somewhere, even if it’s from the slums.”
I glance up at him as he begins eating. Despite his casual posture, he holds dominance and power. There’s also a hint of grace in his movements as he eats. Is he from a noble family?
“Well, I did come from somewhere, but my father and I had a huge argument, and I can’t go back. I broke his most important rule…”
“Rules are made to be broken, darling.”
“Not when they are my father’s,” I reply softly, looking up at him. Should I risk it and tell him I’m not from this world? It would mean letting him know I know he isn’t human, but he might already know that I’m not either, and he may be trying to get information out of me.
